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I used to work for a company called Speedfam. They built Capital Equipment, it was one of the best jobs I’ve ever had. Back when the electronics industry slowed down, we ran out of work. The company didn’t want to lay us off because replacing us was tough. You literally learned to be a specialist in this field.

So with no work we literally had a lot of time on our hands. To fill the time we started playing dominoes. Now I’ll admit when we first started we weren’t all that good. But we had lots of time to practice. By the time we’d been playing for a couple of months we’d gotten pretty good.

One morning we’d gone to the Papillion’s Too in Mesa. We drank there a lot of mornings but never really paid attention to what else went on there. A domino game was going on in the back. We kind of laughed about this and when they asked we admitted that we played. There were four of them playing three men and a woman. They finished their game and asked us to play. We said sure they split up. The catch was that we each had to pony up twenty bucks. All four of us agreed and took them two straight games bodrum bayan eskort before they quit playing. All in all it was fun.

We had even started playing on line. Yahoo has a dominoes section and 15 of us would spread out over the company and play all night. We had some fairly good competition and it was a great way to get paid.

One night our boss Eddie lets out a screech. We all came running over to find out what was going on. He looks around at all of us and it’s easy to tell he’s just stunned.

“Guy’s I’m having cyber sex.” Eddie exclaimed.

We kind of looked at each other and there was a mad scramble to get behind Eddie so we can read his computer. Sure enough someone named DominoGal was going to town.

‘Oh take me Eddie, I can feel you stroking me, your hands running over my tight body and your mouth at my breasts. Oh big dog just stroke me, stroke me, stroke me.’

Eddie just sat there stupefied; he had no idea what to do.

“Ask her if she’s naked” I supplied.

And Eddie dutifully typed it in.

‘Oh yes big dog yalıkavak escort I’m sitting here naked imagining your hands caressing my tender body, feeling my tender flesh. Oh you’re such a man.’

“Ok I’m done I’m exiting this game.” Eddie said.

All of us were kind of enjoying this, so Dan grabs the keyboard and the rest of us rolled Eddie and his chair out of the way. Dan sat down and began some serious typing.

‘Hey girl lick your fingers I want you to taste yourself, then play with those beautiful tits.’

Now this really got her going.

‘Oh big dog I knew you could do it I’m licking my fingers and oh I love the taste. Now I’m caressing my tit’s. Oh I can just imagine it’s you feeling me up and squeezing my nipples. Oh I’m so hot.’

‘Just think of me with my fingers deep inside you stroking back and forth my tongue invading your mouth.’

The speed of her typing seemed to slow but she kept going.

‘Oh big dog, I can feel you inside me your fingers twisting me about exciting me. Your tongue in my mouth tasting mumcular escort me and forcing me to silence.’

I looked around and all of us had our eyes glued to the screen. Adrian shoved Dan out of the way and took over the keyboard.

‘Tell me what you look like, I want to know what I’m looking at.’

She was into this. ‘I’m five foot seven inches, I have a 36-24-38 body with C-cup breasts. I’m Latino and I have long dark curly hair and fiery brown eyes.’

‘Play with those nipples girl I want them rock hard I want them to hurt they are so hard I want them to want me.’ Adrian typed.

There was a long pause but then she came back. Okay I’ve twisted my nipples and “m now rubbing them. Oh please I don’t think I can take much more.’

Adam shoved Adrian out of the way and typed in. ‘Oh I’m stroking, stroking, OH YES, cum with me girl.’

‘YES’ she typed in and then gave us a good description. ‘Oh baby I came so hard I was sitting on a towel and now it’s all soaked.’

‘Well it should be, after all you’ve just pleased us all.’ Adam typed.

‘All of you?’ Came the response.

‘All of us babe. Eddie is at work and we tossed him of the computer 10 minutes ago. You’ve been cybering with 15 of us all at once.’

We all read the response and just laughed.

‘You bastards!’

I have to admit I don’t feel guilty at all. After all we were just playing Dominoes.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Author’s note: This is more pornographic than erotic. There are no characters, this is essentially two pages of largely nondescript: bodily fluids (including urine), female genitalia, underpants, and hands for some reason. It’s certainly not everyone’s cup of tea. Undoubtedly it also has no relation to actual female psychology, anatomy or sexuality. Enjoy.

***

Alice is a camwhore, 24 years old, and despite her initial reservations, after three years of this, perfectly happy to let anyone with money look at her naked body. She was barely over five feet tall, with long black hair, and a perfect hourglass figure. Her B cups were small for her job, but perfectly proportional. She had always been somewhat self conscious about how puffy her nipples are, but plenty of people had told them how lovely they were to suck on, and given how nice a warm mouth felt on her tits, she was glad to have them. She kept the sides of her vulva waxed, but sported a neat patch of jet black hair above her pussy. Her cunt’s meat was nice and tucked away most of the time, but would swell to the size of a butterfly, and drip like a faucet, under the right circumstances.

She was doing a special request today, and keenly felt the pressure of the cold steel bathtub on her feet. But it was still nothing compared to the pressure growing in her stomach and guts. Two and a half hours ago, she had drunk 3 liters of water, and it now filled her bladder to what increasingly felt like the point of bursting. She was standing naked except for a pair of white panties that struggled to contain her pussy as much as she now struggled to contain her piss. The only other thing in the room was the pitiless lens of a camera, impartially documenting her body’s struggle, her face, and it’s increasingly ridiculous and undignified contortions left out of frame. No amount of clenching her abs, or doubling over was effective in reducing the unbearable fullness. Her breathing grew heavy and tense, she was gasping now. *Hhhhuuughhg…*

In an instant, her muscles slipped, she felt hot urine gushing out of her cunt, for a few seconds she desperately escort bodrum tried to halt the flow, but there was no hope. She was left with nothing to do but gently tremble with relief that the ordeal was over. Within seconds her panties were soaked through, and a path through the fibers was made by a thick stream of clear pee as another stream pushed through the side and trailed down her leg. She placed one of her slender hands against her thigh, and the other flat against the tile wall. After thirty seconds of release, all of the tension of her condition was gone, replaced with a faint sense of hollowness within. The hot wet fabric of her underwear was now wrapped tightly around her cunt lips. She instinctively reached down to touch herself, and upon contact gave an involuntary moan. But also found her panties in the way of her fingers. For a moment she rubbed her wet mound over the fabric, feeling the delight of her thin hard digits against her soft flesh. She took her other hand from the wall and moved it to the side of her thong’s waistband, briefly regretting the loss of the pleasure, she put her other thumb through the opposite side, and slowly slipped them off. Gingerly pulling each leg out she held them in her hands looking down at them for a few moments, before bending over slightly so that her mouth was visible to the camera and popping them inside. The salty warmth of her piss filled her mouth, the cool air of the room swirled around her now bare vulva, and she now felt herself start to become wet for very different reasons.

She let the thong fall out of her mouth, it hit the ground with a faint splat. Returning upright she now ran both of her hands down the sides of her body before bringing them to bear on her wet little pussy. She started to hump her clit against her strong hand, and began to slowly probe the first few inches of her insides with the other. Within minutes her vagina was outright drooling, as several strands of viscous pussy juice slid out of her and onto the piss soaked floor of the tub. Her thrusting slowed. She stupidly hadn’t brought any bodrum sınırsız escort toys with her, but desperately needed something to fill her up. She looked around for a moment, and hesitantly picked up the conditioner bottle. It was a luxury brand, and came with fairly thin girth, but it was still at least six inches around. She had never taken a cock, much less a random object that big before. Still, she ached to have something inside her. She spit on the top of the bottle, taking her other hand off her pussy to smear her saliva over as much of its surface as she could, before timidly raising one foot to the lip of the bath. Her gash split open slightly.

With both hands she eased the tip of the bottle into her entrance. It slowly slipped in. Centimeters at a time. Each one eliciting a slightly higher pitched and more desperate gasp. Despite the slow pace, she quickly felt her walls swell to wider than they had ever been, the feeling of lukewarm plastic on warm flesh was unsettling, but the pleasure of being so close to splitting open, so completely full, was intoxicating. She reached around and rimmed her asshole with a finger, briefly slipping it into her pussy with the bottle. The feeling was excruciating. But an agonizing second later it was withdrawn, and slick enough to penetrate her tight rosebud. She painfully repeated this feat with two of her other fingers.

Slipping them in, she thrust it in and out as quickly as she could manage, her most delicate hole being roughly violated by her own hand. She had almost now taken the entire bottle inside of her. Suddenly her foot slipped off the edge, her holes involuntarily clenched, and she wasn’t at all spared from the massive girth. The pressure in her guts was even more overwhelming, and the bottle quickly slipped out. She tried once again to recover in the last few moments, once again too late and the massive opening between her legs, quickly retracted to a narrow slit, and she felt the true extent and fullness of the three fingers in her ass. Every part of her body tensed as her orgasm bodrum otele gelen escort swallowed her. The air was sucked from her lungs. Every drop of piss and nectar poured out, and she crashed full speed into a wall of pleasure.

Nearly losing her balance, she tottered around, barely remaining upright as waves of ecstasy washed over her. She regained enough control to shove a few of her fingers, back into her twat, and she furiously fucked herself as her other hand now gripped at her breast. She rubbed as fast as she could until her climax finally dissipated. She slowly retracted her hand from her vagina, gently tracing up her crotch, spending a moment to caress her belly before bringing it up to her other breast. She cupped her boobs, feeling her heart still racing beneath the supple flesh. After a few minutes of this, her ragged breathing returned to normal. She let go, and bent down to give the camera a smile, before reaching over to switch it off. She pulled the shower curtain closed, and still trembling opened the taps. The hot water rushing over her body felt incredibly comforting, and she lathered every part of herself allowing the water to wash all of her mess away.

Now cleansed, she stood under the head of the shower and turned her face up into it, after such an intense session, this, the nearly scalding water, was nothing. Her body was too exhausted for her brain to work. Numbness, a perfect absence of mind, a beautiful feeling at the end of sex, but this time, imperfect without the warm body of another to cling to. She stepped out of the shower and wrapped her body in a towel. She felt a dull ache between her legs, and briefly considered how much more severe it would be tomorrow, but her thoughts, her full personality, for the moment were campfire ashes. This is what it is to be fully used up. She took a few staggering steps before flopping down on the bed. She looked up at the dying evening sunlight streaming silently through the blinds, but within minutes had drifted off. The next morning she had pancakes, with syrup and butter and stuff. It was quite nice. After that she joined a polyamorus compound, took 18 lovers each one prettier and more interesting than the last, mothered 6 intelligent and successful children, and lived happily up to the age of 97 when she peacefully died in her sleep the day after her birthday celebration, in which everyone who had wanted to see her was able to do so one last time.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

You can find Part 1 of this story under County Fair Voyeur Chapter 1

Where was I…

I had left the seating area of the arena. I knew I had to be quick, but what I wanted to do wouldn’t take too much time. My goal was to feel the inside of this beautiful clarinetist’s bra. I wanted to touch the portion of the bra that held and supported her beautiful breasts and nipples. I can’t tell you how nervous and excited I was.

I walked out of the building and looked at the entrance to the changing tent. People were milling about, but no “guards” were posted. I was running through my brain searching for an excuse why I should be in the tent in case I was asked. At the same time, I was hoping to slip in and slip out. I walked through the empty instrument cases and pulled back the opening flap of the tent. There appeared to be no one inside and it seemed darker than I remembered. I didn’t pause or look around before I entered because I was fearful the indecision would give me away. I stepped inside the tent allowing the flap to close behind me.

I stood there for a moment, letting my eyes adjust to the dimmer light. The band was playing in the background. As I looked around, I saw all of the open bags the girls had brought to use for their change of clothes. The side panels of the tent were all cinched down, so it looked like this was the only entrance and exit. I looked across the tent to the area I had been hiding behind and started to walk in that direction. I had walked about half way there when some light entered the tent and I heard a voice.

“Excuse me. Should you be in here?” A woman had opened the flap to the tent and asked the question. I turned and said, “Well. My sister motioned to me from the band stage that she forgot her glasses. She has a solo in the last number and I think she needs them. I just need to find her bag.”

“Hurry up, then. They’re finishing this one and are only playing four songs,” she yelled back at me. “Okay. I’m hurrying as fast as I can. I’ll be out in a jiffy.” I said. With that, she closed the flap and I was alone again. My heart was racing 200 beats a minute and felt as if it had relocated to my throat, but I was alone.

I reached my destination and dropped down to one knee in front of her bag and opened it up. Her skirt lay on top and I moved it aside. There it was. Her beautiful lace bra. Nicely folded, the cups were stacked within each other. I looked back at the entrance. All was clear. I felt the fabric of the bra, both inside and out. What a rush this was. Feeling the coarseness of the outer lacy material and the smooth softness of the inner material.

After looking back again, I pulled the bra out of the bag in its folded state and brought it to my face. I took a deep smell. Whatever perfume she wore was so delicate. To this day sometimes I will walk past a cosmetic counter and it brings back this moment to me. The inside material touched my nose. I kissed it. I touched it with the tip of my tongue. Another deep inhale through my nose.

It was still all clear behind me. My back was to the entrance. Without another thought, I jammed my right hand holding her bra down the front of my pants until I felt my penis and balls brushing bodrum escort bayan against the soft inner material of her bra. I wrapped it around the head of my penis and then withdrew my hand just as fast. Quickly dropping back to one knee and placing the bra inside her bag (so as to hide it should someone enter), I inspected it. No pubic hairs, no apparent spots or anything. Only I knew where the right cup of her bra had been.

I carefully placed it in her bag and as I did so, I saw an envelope in the bag. I moved aside the clothing and saw it was hand addressed to Lori something (I forget her last name). I now had a name for my clarinetist. I carefully replaced everything in her bag and slid her skirt back over the top of her bra. I adjusted the top of the bag to look just about as open as I had found it. Then I started back towards the entrance, desperately looking around for a pair of eyeglasses. I spotted an eyeglass case and opened it. No eyeglasses inside. A quick look around found me nothing better, so I left the tent holding the empty case.

I had hoped to exit and head back around to my secret spot, but when I emerged from the tent, I paused for a moment to let my eyes adjust. I looked to my left (my preferred easy escape) and then to my right. I then saw the lady who had spoken to me in the tent. She was standing outside of the concert arena watching the concert from down the aisleway. Resigned to have to see this through, I walked over to her and quickly past her into the arena while holding the eyeglass case. As I did so, she said, “Hurry. They’re just about done,” referring to their third song of three.

I walked into the arena and quickly turned right to get out of the aisle of her vision. I walked along the far right side wall towards the stage. I was afraid the woman was still watching me as I delivered the glasses, so I figured it best to walk down to the stage to act as if I was delivering the glasses to my sister. The stage was just platforms set upon the floor, so I walked around to the back of the band by the drum section. As I did so, the band ended its third number and the audience applauded. I paused for a moment, unseen by anyone at this point, and placed the eyeglass case on a trombone case. Then, as a proud brother that had done a good deed, I left via the side door.

The side door took me outside the arena on the opposite side from the changing tent. I looked behind the stage area to my left, but the whole area was fenced off. I could go straight back up to the front of the arena, but I would have been confronted again by the guard lady, so I opted to walk straight away, although it was in the opposite direction of the tent. I had to figure out how to get back over to the tent without being seen by this woman. I wanted to be there when she got out of her uniform.

Chapter 3

Unfortunately, there was no easy way back to this tent. I’d have to draw you a map to fully understand, but I had to walk around the horse track and cut through the carnival rides (midway for you mid-westerners) to get back over to the right side of the tent. It took forever and as I approached the tent I could hear talking already. bodrum otele gelen escort I figured that by the time I got there, she will have already changed. I found the overlap of the tent, looked around to make sure the coast was clear and slipped between the canvas tent walls again.

I stooped over and peaked inside the hole. She, or shall I say Lori, was kneeling by her bag digging through it. She still had her band uniform on and this time was by herself. What luck. She found whatever she was looking for and walked back across the tent and outside. A mind can play some crazy games on you in this situation. I started to wonder if she had come back to her bag and found something I had left or noticed something amiss with her clothing and was now telling the teachers or police about it. Should I dash? I checked for my wallet. No. It was there. I could envision her talking with the police along with the woman at the entrance. Could they read the fingerprints off of the eyeglass case I had laid down? Was a manhunt in progress? Should I leave the fair? Which exit? They’re probably all guarded.

Just then, she walked back into the tent and towards her bag. I still thought this might be part of their trap so I would stay in place and not panic and run. She walked up to her bag and started unbuttoning the uniform. Would the police really ask her to strip for me to hold me in place? Wouldn’t she feel scared or at least uncomfortable? I looked at her and she seemed as calm as could be. No fear. No hesitation. I began to relax.

She unbuttoned her band jacket and slid it off her shoulders revealing her upper body except for her bra. She kicked off her shoes and unzipped her pants, stepping out of them and folding them neatly. As she reached for the hanger, she wore only her socks, blue panties and bra.

She placed the pants on the hanger and then slid the shoulders of the jacket on. She then walked a few paces over to a uniform rack and reached over and hung the complete uniform on it. I gazed at her complete body as she walked back towards me.

She kneeled down in front of her bag on one knee as I had done. I had an incredible view of the front crotch of her panties. She searched in her bag for a moment and laid her pretty lacy bra on top. She reached behind and unfastened her simpler bra, and like the first time, with a slight shrug of her shoulders had released her breasts from their keeper.

Her breasts were so pretty and looked so soft. Her nipples were not erect but they were such a beautiful shade of flesh. She unfolded her bra and reached behind her back to pass the bra strap to her other hand. With a fastener in each hand, she looked down and fastened the bra in front of her and rotated the fastener around her side to her back until the cups to her bra were under each tit. She put her right arm through the shoulder strap and raised the strap until the cup covered her breast. She then slipped her left arm through the shoulder strap and did the same. A little adjustment was made and her bra was on. I looked at her right breast (to my left as I faced her) and had the very satisfied thought that some cell of gümbet escort my penis or balls were rubbing against her skin. Indirectly, I was fondling her breast and nipple. It was an incredible feeling.

Then, to my total surprise, she moved aside the fabric of her panties covering her crotch and slid her middle finger inside or at least over her pussy. I say this with some uncertainty because for one I was shocked and surprised. Also, I didn’t have the best view of her in this one knee down position. Thirdly, she had a pretty good bush down there and her finger just kind of disappeared. I’d like to think she slid it inside of her, but she may have just run it over her pussy.

I hadn’t thought that I might see her bush. Her pubic hair was as brown as the hair on her head and there was quite a bit there. Right after this one stroke, she slid her panties back over and stood up, pulling her skirt out of the bag as she rose. I guess she figured that while she was down in that position, nobody could see what she did so quickly. She stepped into her skirt and zipped it up. She bent down and pulled her blouse out of the bag and put it on. With each button, more and more of her skin was disappearing from view.

She slipped on her shoes and knelt down to arrange the contents of her bag. If the hole in the canvas was a bit lower, I would have had a great view up her skirt. I dared not move, though, afraid I might change some shadow, make some noise or otherwise disclose my presence somehow. Today had been a home run and I have never been greedy in a peeping situation.

She applied some make-up in this kneeling position, but she soon stood up and gathered her bag and purse and walked toward the tent entrance.

I debated approaching her once more, because I wanted her to smile at me again, but I decided it best not to. Too much risk of drawing attention or running into the guard lady again.

I looked around and saw other co-eds in various stages of changing, but they were all too far away to see anything too revealing. I decided to leave my secret spot.

I went back to the County Fair a couple of more times with my great-aunt and great-uncle that year. On one evening, there was going to be a college cheerleader/spirit squad competition, but no matter how much I begged, my great-uncle needed to get home before five o’clock to take care of his chores. When we got home, his “chore” was watching the Merv Griffin Show. I have often fantasized about the things I could have seen that night.

In my mind, I thought about how to be sure one of the cheerleaders changed near my secret spot. I thought I could win a few bottles of Pepsi and squirt them around the lawn area under the tent so that the only dry place would be over by my secret spot. I’d leave the bottles littered on the ground so they would know what it was under their feet. But alas, it was not to be. In all, I was never lucky enough to see anything again through the hole in the canvas tent panel. But the few times I did go back and check, I always saw the faint naked ghostly breasts and smile of my brunette clarinet player, Lori.

Epilogue

All was not lost at my great-uncle’s house that summer week in 1966. Out in the country, the neighbors have no fences and the girl two houses down didn’t always get her shades completely closed at night. After confirming no dog was penned up there, I went out for a walk around nine o’clock that night, ostensibly to catch some fireflies. While she wasn’t as pretty as Lori, she was far from ugly.

We’ll save this for another time.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

My wife loves to dance; unfortunately, I have two left feet. I tried dancing, even took lessons, but couldn’t follow the rhythm of the music and ended up tripping more often than not.

She hadn’t been out dancing in years and since it was her fortieth birthday I, being a loving husband, took her out to a club so she could dance. I told her to find someone or several someones and dance her heart out.

We secured a small table near the dance floor so I could watch, and off she went in search of a dance partner. She had dressed for dancing, wearing a soft lavender silk blouse and a flared deep purple skirt. The skirt wasn’t too short, but shorter than what she normally wore and moved well when she walked. I could hardly wait to see it move when she danced.

She checked in often, saying how much she loved me and that she was having a wonderful time.

I watched dancing on TV on occasion and found it really sexy. I thought it was because of the costumes the women wore, but seeing my wife out there dancing told me it was more in the movement. She used her clothes and hair as an extension of herself, making the skirt move in time with the music.

I soon became aroused watching her move against these men, especially her new favorites. Two men in particular danced especially close to her, their bodies as one. One or the other of them danced with her often and she seemed to like them. The way she caressed their bodies with hers, specifically their groins, made it certain they would like her too. They were both in their late twenties or early thirties and it was obvious to me that she liked the attentions of these younger men.

I noticed more than once that a hand stroked her ass. This sight caused heat to surge through me and I was disappointed every time I saw her move that hand. It seemed that she left those hands on her ass longer each time before she moved them away. One man, the taller and slightly older of the two, apparently took that as a sign she was saying no. That is until halfway through the dance when she lowered his hands and left them there. She only moved them back up to her waist just before the song ended.

Watching her move that guy’s hand to her ass aroused me more than I would have thought. He was close to six feet tall and had to lean in slightly to cup my wife’s ass with his head resting on her shoulder. Was it wrong for me to become aroused seeing another man’s hand on her ass? I was taught that men don’t share their possessions. Women, in general, want men to protect them from other men’s advances. What about when the woman encourages those advances, as my wife seemed to be doing now? Is it wrong that it’s turning me on watching her out there with these men?

A half hour later she returned to our table, slick with sweat.

“You seemed to have found a couple of guys that like to dance with you,” I said, smiling.

“Yeah, they’re tag teaming me and I’m having a blast. They may be getting a little too friendly, though, so if you want to go, we can.”

“What do you mean? You’re having a good time. We can stay as long as you like or until the bar closes.”

“Well, these two guys are putting their hands on my ass. I’ve been moving their hands, but…”

“Isn’t that part of the fun of dancing?” I didn’t say that she encouraged their hands on her ass, even moving one from her waist to a lower point on one occasion. Neither did I mention that just watching her with another man’s hand on her ass aroused me.

“Yes, and I expected it, but I’m starting to want to leave their hands where they are. So if you’re uncomfortable, we can leave. This has already been the best birthday ever.”

She had decided not to wear a bra tonight. Her breasts were not too large so she went braless often. It was something I enjoyed especially when she was aroused. Now, I noticed that she was enjoying herself. bodrum escort

I had already seen that she had been leaving the men’s hands on her ass for longer periods of time and only moving them when she thought I was watching.

“No, stay. I’m not jealous if another guy has his hand on your ass. If you enjoy it, then leave it there.” I didn’t tell her how seeing another man’s hand on her ass affected me. It was her birthday and I wanted to encourage her to feel free to do what she wanted. It didn’t hurt that I liked watching.

She kissed me and went over to one of the men with whom she had been more friendly. This man was closer to her height, maybe five foot ten or so. She was five foot six and with this man they danced as one.

She grabbed his hand and led him out to the dance floor. She turned towards him and, with a sly grin, placed his hands on her waist. She moved her hips slowly and seductively, pushing his hands lower onto her ass. Staring into his eyes, she let her grin widen as she pushed his hands down until they cupped her ass cheeks. He gripped her ass and she raised her hands, placing them around his neck.

She knew that I wasn’t upset about someone else’s hands on her ass and she took full advantage of that. She often leaned forward to speak into his ear. This resulted in laughter from both of them. He returned the gesture by speaking into her ear. This time there wasn’t laughter; instead she took on a sultry smile and spun around in his arms.

His hands never left contact with her body and once she completed her turn, they rested on her hipbones. It appeared as if he was pulling her close to his groin, but she didn’t need the extra pull. She wiggled her ass as if trying to find a way through his jeans. His hands traveled up and down the side of her body as she swayed against him in time with the music.

He cupped her breasts and pinched her nipples through the thin top she wore.

I thought she was about to come when she glanced over at me, and then quickly turned around, forcing his hands from her breasts. The song ended and the other man took his turn with her.

My erection had grown to full length just from seeing this man’s hands on my wife’s breasts. I was disappointed when she turned around.

Another half hour later, my wife came back to the table, red faced. “I think I’m getting into this too much, and can’t stop myself. The guys are starting to get more intimate out there, with their hands exploring deep between my legs. I moved their hands several times, but I’m afraid if I dance with them again, I won’t move their hands. It just feels too good.” I knew she didn’t want to leave. The condition of her nipples told me that. She was afraid I’d be jealous and I was afraid to tell her how much watching her with these two men was turning me on.

I wanted to encourage her to go further, much further, and allow their hands to caress her ass and breasts. Maybe even under her clothes, but guilt hit me right between the eyes. What kind of husband gets turned on watching another man fondle his wife?

I decided to be the loving husband and just encourage her to have fun, hoping that she would lose control out there on the dance floor.

“I told you I’m not jealous and as long as you’re enjoying yourself, you should go for it. When is the next time you’ll get the chance to dance like this?”

She kissed me and ran back to continue dancing. I watched her grab one of the men she had been dancing with, the taller one this time, and drag him out to the floor. She had my assurances that I wasn’t getting jealous. She had to know that I had seen at least some of her actions out there.

She seemed bolder now. She danced facing the man with his hands on her ass. She slipped her own hands between their bodies as they danced close searching lower to turgut reis escort that spot where his legs joined his body, all the while smiling up at him. She leaned in close to speak in his ear then leaned back. His hands left her ass and traveled up to find her breasts. They danced this way for several minutes until she turned around and pushed her ass onto the bulge between his legs.

This dance was repeated with the shorter man. It seemed to me as if she was trying to hide the fact that the men were playing with her breasts. After all, either her body or his hid that fact from all but those closest to her.

I can only assume that her hands were between the man’s thighs, as they danced too close for me to see clearly. My only hint was the brief glimpse of the man’s bulge when my wife turned around before covering it with her ass.

I wanted to see more and had to find a way to tell her that.

Forty-five minutes later she returned to the table with the two men in tow. She introduced them to me and took a sip of her drink. The taller man was Jason and worked in the building trades. The shorter man was a software engineer named Brian.

The four of us chatted for a while and I liked the guys. They both said how much they appreciated my allowing them to dance with my wife and I told them that they were doing me a favor.

The next song started and Jason reached for my wife. She refused saying that she needed a breather. He then traced the neckline of her blouse over the swell of her breasts, begging her to dance with him. She got even redder and, as his finger strayed under her blouse, she grabbed his hand and led him onto the dance floor.

I almost exploded in my pants watching this stranger’s finger trace the upper swells of my wife’s breasts. I wanted her to open her blouse a little, but couldn’t think of a way to suggest it.

I had a great conversation with Brian and convinced him that I wasn’t the jealous type. The song ended and he got up to dance with my wife as Jason took his place at our table.

The fondling increased and became more intimate now that they all knew I wouldn’t be getting mad, and when my wife finally returned to the table with her blouse open, she had the widest smile I’ve seen on her in years.

She excused herself to the bathroom, dragging me with her.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” she asked. “We are going pretty far out there.”

“I’m fine with it and I can see that you’re letting their hands under your skirt now and inside your blouse.”

“I told you that I can’t control myself out there. Do you want to leave?”

“No, I’m enjoying watching you with those two.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes, but I’m wondering what it would be like if you went out there without panties next time.”

I expected her to be shocked at my suggestion, thinking that I really didn’t love with her or something. I was so aroused by watching her make out with two different guys that I didn’t think before I said it.

She smiled at me, bent down and removed her panties. She handed them to me saying, “Want to find out?”

A smile split my face as I took her moist panties. “I’d love to find out,” I said. As I kissed my sexy wife, my hard-on pushed against her communicating my excitement.

She looked down at the bulge in my pants. She squeezed me and smiled. “You should have told me how much you liked this. We could have done this years ago. Give me another hour here and I’ll make sure to take care of you, any way you want.”

She gave me another squeeze and walked back towards our table.

I went into the bathroom. I needed cold water to splash on my face. I was so hot right now I wasn’t sure I could last another hour without coming in my pants. I had told her how much her actions had turned me on türkbükü escort and now knew she wouldn’t be trying to hide them from me anymore.

I walked back to our table and with each step I took, felt my erection growing. My wife sat there with Jason, laughing with him as he stroked his finger up and down the opening of her blouse between her breasts. Her blouse was open almost to the waist.

I reached the table and sat down. Jason immediately removed his hand from my wife’s chest. She grabbed it and placed it flat against her chest, palm down right between her breasts, and then shifted her gaze from him to me. She smiled broadly at me as she slowly moved his hand under her blouse and onto her breast.

I smiled back just as broadly as my erection hidden by the table grew to full length.

She then turned her gaze back to Jason and said, “I have a surprise for you next time we dance.”

The shock he had been showing when she moved his hand onto her breast in front of me vanished as he realized I was enjoying this as much as he was.

“Oh? I love surprises. What is it?”

“I’ll give you a hint,” she said, spreading her knees and placing his other hand on her inner thigh. She looked back over at me, making sure I saw what she was doing as she pushed his hand higher under her skirt.

Her smile widened as did mine the higher his hand went. She blew me a kiss just before she closed her eyes and threw back her head.

She opened her eyes and looked at Jason.

“Ready?” she asked, removing his hands from her body and standing up.

Brian had just come back from the bar with a drink in his hand. My wife grabbed his hand just as he set down his drink and led both men out to the dance floor.

I watched the three of them dancing together, my wife sandwiched between two men. She, with her hands low between the legs of one man, allowed him to play with her breasts. She let her ass dance with the other man.

She glanced over at me, smiled, and then pulled back from Brian just enough to show me his naked cock in her hand. She then turned around and, lifting the back of her skirt, sank her ass onto his groin.

A voice shocked me from the vision in front of me.

“Would you like another?” the cocktail waitress asked.

“Yes, please,” I said, shifting my focus away from my throbbing erection.

“Your wife is very hot out there,” she said. I looked up at a smiling face looking down at me.

“Yes she is,” I replied noticing that the waitress wasn’t looking at my face, nor my wife out on the dance floor, but at my erection striving to burst forth from my pants.

“She makes me hot just watching her out there,” she said, never moving her eyes.

“Like now?” I asked. We looked out at my wife who was now bent at the waist with her skirt bunched high on her ass. She was grinding her ass hard against Brian, steadying herself with her hands on Jason’s hips.

“She’s not going too far, or dancing too erotically for this bar, is she?” I asked.

“There haven’t been any complaints and I’m enjoying the show as much as you apparently are.” She again looked past my face to points lower.

“Just make sure she keeps her clothes on,” she added before leaving to get my drink.

My wife was now upright between the two men. Her skirt was still bunched up high, both front and back. Everyone’s hands were low. She looked over at me again and mouthed a kiss, then pulled away from Jason to show me his naked cock in her hand.

She then lifted one of her legs to his hip, wrapping it around him. She put one of her arms around his neck for balance as she settled in closer. He bent his knees slightly and she lowered herself onto him then put her other arm around his neck. He now supported almost all of her weight. Her eyes closed.

The waitress came back and set my drink on the table in front of me with an extra napkin. I looked at the writing on it, Nicole and a phone number.

“I get off at two,” she said, again looking down. She then grabbed a couple of napkins and reached down. “In case you need these,” she said, stroking my cock with the napkins. “If you need any help, just wave my way,” she said as she walked away.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

The cyber café was crowded tonight as Eliza slipped into a comfortable seat behind a computer terminal. The cubicle she was sitting at wasn’t that secluded, but no one would see any of the nasty things she typed while she sipped her cappuccino and visited her favorite adult chat rooms.

As the twenty three year old red head wriggled to get comfortable into her seat, she started up one particular chat program that would connect her to a real time roleplaying game. There were no pictures, only ‘rooms’ people could do ‘scenes’ in. And everything was talked about or done through typing and through text.

Eliza cracked her knuckles and typed in her login name and password, making the room’s ‘bot’ acknowledge her character name and that she was now indeed ready to play.

The first room she entered was an inn, an old and lonely inn that was more of a tavern to its regular patrons. Inn slaves wandered back and forth between the tables, and Eliza could imagine them exactly as they were ’emoting’ themselves to look like.

Buxom blondes and nasty brunettes, all laughing and giggling, sashaying between patrons with trays of ale and food.

Eliza used an emote to reach out and pinch one of those round bottoms, in a role-play sense. Her character was a dark elf, basically an elf with blue skin and white hair, and known for being more of a warring race than the usual peace-loving elves of fairy tales.

The serving wench squealed and dashed off, out of Eliza’s character’s reach, and Eliza smiled at the monitor.

She really liked this room. She loved the idea of being a powerful and dangerous warrior queen, carrying an axe and a sword around, being loud and obnoxious and too tough for anyone to do anything about.

All around Eliza, the evening crowd of the café was coming to life. She eyed the various people around her, sitting at their own cubicles, paying for time on the internet much like herself.

Except Eliza had a deal with the manager.

She grinned, making her character get up and chase after the serving wench. The manager of the café was a friend of Eliza’s from college. He lived in the area and was kind of cute, but not Eliza’s type at all. She liked her men large and gruff. And this guy was quiet and shy, for the most part.

One thing he liked, though, was cyber. Eliza had indulged him a few times on a messenger service they both used, but she had bored of that so easily. It was kinky thinking of him in his office just above her, right where she could look up and see his head looking through the viewing window as he surveyed his domain. He told her he liked to watch people, and he loved to watch people cybering.

So, they had struck a bargain. Eliza would get a pass code and could use any computer she wanted, whenever she wanted. But only on the condition that sometimes, she let him watch her cyber. He had the power to tap into any computer in the entire network within the two story café; and he would sort of listen in as Eliza did the dirty deeds she did so well.

She looked around now, her green eyes checking to see if he was around. She didn’t see him though. Maybe he was busy with something.

She went back to the inn room she was playing in, and finally made a big deal about her character going for a bath.

It would be nice if someone would follow her into the bathing rooms, a sub-room of the main inn chat room, she thought.

She would have to bodrum escort bayan wait and see.

And she lucked out.

Using the cyber commands of the ‘bot’, Eliza found out that the person who followed her into the baths was a high elf.

Good, she smiled to herself. Her character had a sick penchant for making high elf males writhe underneath her. Maybe she could indulge that fantasy.

She began to type emote-actions now, showing how her character was slowly undressing, peeling off the layers of her armor to reveal a sinewy and slender body resplendent with large breasts and an ample bottom. She typed that her character was climbing into one of the large glass tubs of water, one foot, then the other, then sinking beneath the waves.

The high elf character walked in and began to undress. Eliza shivered, reading the player’s description of his lengthy white body and long black hair, and of course, the way he describe his high elf cock.

It was erect, he emoted, standing at attention.

Eliza looked around, squirming on her seat in the café. This could get really good. Too bad if her friend was missing out.

Then suddenly, someone was standing behind her. Eliza could feel a tall slender man’s presence just behind her shoulders and cascading red hair. Someone was looking over her shoulder, reading her screen.

Should she be insulted? Annoyed?

She looked up to the viewing window where the café manager usually sat. He wasn’t there. It could very well be him behind her. Most likely it was.

So Eliza sat back and continued her scene.

The high elf character noticed her dark elf and asked if he could join her in the same tub. She grinned evilly at him and beckoned him over, not saying a word.

And as he climbed in, Eliza had her character float slowly over to greet him.

Before the other player had even sat down, Eliza’s character was eagerly straddling his thighs.

The person behind Eliza gasped lightly, and the girl smiled. She had always been a good writer. Cybering and role-playing were natural for her, very easy. She loved being able to twist words to her whimsy.

She continued to type.

Now the high elf was slightly afraid by the bold dark elf female in his lap, but still, his member was erect and stiff. Eliza moved her character forward more, grinding over the high elf’s cock with her privacy, rubbing him with her sex while she made her character grin ‘deliciously’ at her new victim.

Hands touched Eliza’s shoulders just then, barely the touch of fingertips. For a moment, she wanted to turn around and ask him to stop. But the high elf was about to try and scramble out of the tub. The player behind the high elf likely expected a quick response. Men in cyber worlds loved to have their egos stroked, and who was Eliza to disappoint?

She continued typing, ignoring the now more firm feel of fingertips against her shoulders and neck. The man behind her was pulling her hair aside gently, so that he could touch over her neck.

Pretty bold, Eliza thought. She’d told the manager many times she would never have sex with him, that cyber was as far as he would ever get with her, and even that had passed.

But if he was that excited by what she was typing, that he would openly touch her like this, well! That was a compliment.

She continued to type.

The dark elf character bitez escort now squeezed the high elf’s thighs with her own, her hands on either side of his head and effectively pinning him to the side of the tub. Eliza’s character was several levels higher than her new playmate’s character, and so he had to concede and give in to her greater strength.

Slowly, Eliza began to rock her dark elf’s sex over the high elf’s cock, blatantly, until the full penis slipped inside.

She gasped, imagining the feel of it as if it were real.

And the man behind her gasped.

She could hear a chair now; the person behind her was dragging a chair over so that he could sit directly behind Eliza, watching the screen over her shoulder. As he sat down, his lips graced over her neck. Eliza scooted further into the cubicle. But the man followed with his chair. Now she was the one pinned.

She continued to type.

The high elf tried to help Eliza’s character rock hard over his groin, but she was having none of that. Eliza liked to rule her scenarios, and she quickly reached for the coiled length of her whip on a nearby bench. She coiled it tightly around the high elf’s wrist, holding his hands fast together and behind his head, tightly.

And then she began to move.

Eliza typed about how deep his cock was inside her, and how tight she felt to him. The player behind the high elf character sent her a personal message, saying how hot of a role-player she was and how glad he was he had come into the baths with her.

Eliza ignored it. She wasn’t here to talk about role-play or cyber. She was here to do it!

The man behind her kissed Eliza’s neck again, but she was so hot, it didn’t really matter. She continued to type furiously, causing the high elf to cum twice before she was releasing him without her character being satisfied.

Hands slipped up Eliza’s sides, swiftly coming to cup her breasts. She almost squealed out loud, but she had been having such a good time in the bathing room, it would be a shame to draw undo attention to her activities.

As the hands squeezed her generous breasts, Eliza got her character dressed and then walked back into the inn’s common room. She had her dark elf look around with dark elf eyes. Finally, she spied a serving wench she had known on previous encounters to be pretty loose. Eliza walked over to her, propositioning the girl.

And the hands on her breasts squeezed her in delight. Eliza wriggled in her chair, glad she wasn’t wearing any panties. She would have soaked them by now with all this stimulus and excitement.

As if reading the girl’s mind, the hands went lower on Eliza’s stomach, long fingertips slipping beneath the loose band of her skirt and rubbing over her lower belly.

Eliza had her character offer a few gold coins to the serving wench if the girl would do a dance for her – a private dance in her room. Shyly, the smaller nymph serving girl nodded, smiling up at Eliza with “delighted eyes of forest green”. Eliza grinned openly, reading the text that said the girl followed the dark elf up the stairs obediently.

Once inside a sub room of Eliza’s creation, Eliza had her character viciously attack the serving girl. And though the girl screamed and whimpered for help and assistance, no one of course came to her rescue.

Eliza picked up her whip again, forcing gümüşlük escort the girl to spread her thighs with it. And as she did that, the hands on her own real life body spread her thighs beneath her skirt and dipped into her sex. They pulled apart her labia, and played with her clitoris.

In the game, Eliza’s dark elf violated the serving wench ruthlessly, until the nymph gave in with screams of delight and orgasmic pleasure. Then, right on cue, the girl begged to serve Eliza’s every sexual whimsy.

Usually, Eliza would have said no. She liked domination scenes, but wasn’t into true lesbianism. But those hands, pulling deftly at her now swollen lips, so insistent and determined, were making Eliza so wet in real life. She finally agreed to let the girl please her, but only if she returned the coin Eliza’s character had given her.

The nymph character agreed happily and returned the coins, and just as Eliza began to let her undress the dark elf, those fingers slipped up inside of her sex.

Eliza couldn’t stifle the moan that escaped her lips and she found herself leaning back, letting go of the keyboard as those fingers played within her furiously.

But the man took both her hands in his suddenly, and placed them back on the keyboard.

Eliza gulped, ashamed at herself for becoming so lost in the fantasy she was having in real life that she almost forgot the one she was role-playing. She began to type again, quickly, fervently.

The nymph lay Eliza’s character back on the bed, parting the dark blue skinned thighs of the warrior and dipping her head down and over her wet cunt. As the nymph emoted that her tongue came out and flicked over Eliza’s character’s clitoris, those hands in Eliza’s real life lap moved to attend to her pearl, her bud. They flicked in tune with the nymph’s role-play attentions, and the whole idea was so sexy, Eliza began to wriggle against those hands. She couldn’t help but buck against them.

Then the nymph was parting her own thighs and moving her legs in between Eliza’s, until their two pussies were pressed together. She emoted moving her character so quickly and furiously that Eliza’s swollen labia, excited clit and aching tunnel were all stimulated at once.

As the nymph did this, emoted this in the room, the hands on Eliza’s real life puss mashed her lips together and thrust two fingers deep inside her tunnel. They stretched her and she ached for it, imagining it was a real life cock. She emoted cumming in the room, then leaned back into the person behind her.

It was amazing that no one was watching them as she did this, no one around them had noticed what was going on, just a couple with two really close together chairs. Eliza supposed it had to do with the fact that no one would question anything the manager of the café did, and she smiled.

Soon, she was cumming, giving in to his fingers playing and swirling inside her delightfully. Her walls tightened around his digits and she rocked and bucked with her hips. Then she put her hands behind her, reaching back to hold his head.

Only, it wasn’t his head of short blonde hair that she felt.

Eliza opened her eyes, looking with horror at the viewing window above the café’s first floor. The café manager sat there, quietly typing away at his keyboard.

The girl whipped around just as the hands released her and removed from her skirt.

Sitting behind her was a red headed man she had never seen, a total stranger! And he had just made her cum in a public place without even so much as her knowing his name!

As Eliza blushed red, her emotions moving from shame to fury, the man stood up, closing his coat around his chest, and walked off.

“Good story,” he said over his shoulder. And he was gone.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

By the time I pulled into our apartment complex, I was feeling pretty sick to my stomach. I wasn’t sure if it was because I was nervous about seeing Don, getting fucked well by a huge cock, or simply the result of having a full-body orgasm that refused to subside.

I looked in my review mirror to make sure I was still the same girl I was before the events of this crazy day. A car pulled in next to me. It was Ronnie and Kris, the two guys who lived at the end of the complex. We all got out of our cars at the same time. “Hi Kim.” Hi Kim!” They said.

They had a third guy with them I’d never seen before. “Kim, this is my cousin, Bradley. He’ll be staying with us for a few days. He’s a painter,” Ronnie said.

“Hi,” I said as I tried to shake his hand. He lifted my hand to his lips and softly kissed it. “enchanté,” he said. Like Ronnie and Kris, Bradley was hot. Not Midwestern boy, hot. More like big city, European hot.

We all parted ways and I nervously walked to my door. What was I going to tell Don? Would he be able to tell I’d been completely and thoroughly fucked? As soon as I walked through the door I ran into him.

“Hey Kim! I’m running late, but as soon as I get back, I want to hear all about your day. Bye Babe!” He gave me a kiss and quickly went out the door. For a split second I was afraid he’d notice that my lips had been around another man’s cock, but he didn’t. *whew!* I lucked out. I’d have time to compose myself before having to face Don again.

I felt considerable wetness between my legs. My paranoia was telling me it was Terrance’s cum. I reached my hand down my pants to check. I was shockingly wet. I put my fingers to my tongue and took a taste. Nope, this was all me. I needed to take care of this.

I went up to my bedroom and quickly removed my clothes. I jumped into bed and reached my hand down to my sopping wet pussy. I started replaying in my mind the events of my day. Did I really get impaled by an exquisite huge black cock? Did I really get to suck that beautiful cock and let it cum in my tight pussy? These thoughts were sending me to a near instant orgasm. I slowed down. I wanted this one to last.

I removed my hand from my pussy and reached both hands up to pinch my nipples. The harder I pinched them, the harder I needed them to be pinched. I pulled hard at them. I loved the pain and desperately wanted more. *AAHHH* I relaxed my head against the pillow, soaking up this sexual bliss. I felt transformed as I pulled and squeezed my nipples.

Suddenly, there was a knock at my door. *Oh shit!*

I quickly threw on an old tee shirt and my pajama shorts and hurried downstairs. I opened the door to find Bradley standing there.

“Hello Kim. Sorry to pop over unannounced. I hope this is a good time.”

I invited him in and he continued. “So, like they told you, I’m a painter. Kris said you’re a model. I actually love your look and I’d really love to utilize your modeling services. I’ve got a spot in a gallery in Chicago next month and I feel I’m still one or two works away from being where I want to be.”

“You want to paint me?” I asked. I was flattered.

“Yeah. I know you don’t know me, but I’m a serious painter. I brought over my portfolio so you can see my work.” He handed me a big black book. I opened it to find page after page of reprints of his beautiful paintings. They truly were amazing. All nudes.

“Bradley, these are gorgeous! But umm, all nudes?”

“Yeah, haha. I specialize in nudes. Is that a problem for you?” He said, looking me up and down.

Still riding my sexual high, I said coyly, ” No Bradley. Nudes are not a problem for me. When and where do you need me?”

“Great!” He said. “I’d like to start as soon as possible. The boys let me set up a studio in their living room, so it’s basically a 15 second walk for you. We can start right now if you’re free.”

“Give me thirty minutes. I’ll meet you there.”

“Perfect!” He said and headed out the door.

Once again, my mind was spinning. I didn’t even know Bradley, so being naked in front of him didn’t stress me out. The question that kept going through my mind was; where were Ronnie and Kris going to be the whole time? Surely I wasn’t expected to be naked in front of them!

I went back to my bedroom to finish what I’d started. The thought of posing nude for Bradley was turning me on almost as much as getting fucked by Terrance. I took off my clothes, got into bed and resumed my slippery pussy massage. It only took me about a minute to reach a massive orgasm. I was free to be as vocal as I wanted since Don was gone, and let me tell you, I let it all out. Who was I becoming?

I did my hair and makeup and threw on the same tee shirt and shorts outfit I’d pu on for Bradley. I wrote Don a note: DON, WENT TO ANOTHER MODELING GIG. I’LL BE BACK TONIGHT.

I had loads of butterflies in my stomach taking that short walk over to Kris and Ronnie’s. He’s a pro, I thought. And I’m a pro. Kim, you’re a pro…

Kris bodrum bayan eskort met me at the door and led me to the makeshift studio in their living room where Bradley was preparing his tools. His easel was set up a few feet in front of the couch. “OK, Kim, this will be really easy for you. You’ll be facing me with your fingers laced through your hair behind your head. I’d like your back slightly arched and your head leaning back. Anytime you need a break, just say the word. Ready when you are.”

“Oh, OK…” I said. I took a deep breath, walked to the middle of the room, took off my shirt and shorts, and tossed them onto the couch. I tilted my head back, laced my fingers behind my head and arched my back.

“Perfect, Kim!” Said, Bradley. “Just like an early morning stretch. Just be natural.” He dipped his brush in some paint and went to work on the canvas.

Off in the distance I heard a voice. “Hey Bradley, you need a beer?” Ronnie yelled.

“Please!” Bradley answered.

Oh my God! He wasn’t seriously coming into this room!

I heard voices coming closer. Sure enough, Ronnie and Kris walked in, handed Bradley a beer and plopped down on the couch to watch the show. “We’ll be quiet.” Kris said to Bradley.

I was facing my two neighbors while completely naked. They drank their beers alternating looks between my breasts and my pussy. Inside I was dying but outside I was the picture of a calm professional. I couldn’t believe the balls on these two, sitting there comfortably staring at me in this state. I was getting aroused from my two voyeurs and could tell moisture was building in my pussy. I hoped it wasn’t too obvious.

Ronnie stood up, adjusted his obvious erection and disappeared down the hallway. He returned a moment later holding a bottle of whiskey and four shot glasses. “Shots!” He announced. “Bradley, let Kim take a break so she can join us.” Bradley motioned for me to join the boys on the couch.

So, stark naked, I sat down between them and was immediately handed a shot of whiskey. As soon as I threw it back, they filled my glass again. As soon as I threw the second one back, they filled it a third time. I was a lightweight, so three shots was about my limit.

“OK, last one!” I said, throwing back number three. The whiskey was hitting me pretty fast. Thank God, because I was completely naked in a living room with three young men.

It wasn’t nearly as awkward as it would have been had I been stone sober. In fact, thanks to my increasing buzz, I was becoming more and more aroused. I wasn’t the only one. All three guys were making frequent adjustments to their pants.

Full of liquid courage and arousal, I said, “You know, this whole situation is unfair. A gentleman would never permit a lady to be the only naked person in the room.” I looked at Ronnie and Kris, totally naked with with raised eyebrows.

“Done!” Ronnie answered. He stood up, removed his tee shirt, socks, and unbuckled his jeans. He pulled them down, stepped out of them and quickly remove his boxer briefs, leaving him completely nude. Ronnie had a beautiful athletic body. His semi erect cock was of average length but veiny and quite girthy.

Then all eyes were on Kris. He threw up his arms saying, “OK, ok…” He disrobed revealing an average body, sporting an unremarkable, average penis.

I don’t know if it was just the whiskey, but having these two boys join me in my nudity definitely relaxed the atmosphere.

“OK Bradley, you’re turn,”said Ronnie, surprising everyone.

“I’m the painter!” Bradley answered.

“Don’t be a pussy. We all did it,” said Ronnie.

“You guys are assholes,” Said Bradley, as he started removing his clothes. When he got down to his briefs, it was clear why he was hesitant. Bradley was trying and failing badly at hiding a massive erection.

He pulled down his briefs, revealing a beautiful hard-as-a rock cock. It wasn’t as magnificent as Terrance’s, but it was flawless. Longer, thicker, and harder than most, it was as perfect as I’d ever seen. I just stood there posing for the painting, unable to avert my gaze from Bradley’s extraordinary cock.

I started to imagine it inside of me. I started to imagine getting gang banged by all three men. Then I felt it. Ever so slightly at first, but unmistakeable. My soaking wet pussy started drip. First, down one leg, then soon after down the other. Could they see it? Did they know? Stop staring at his dick, you idiot!

I glanced over at the boys. They were still standing there watching, but now their penises were totally erect. Three rock hard cocks stood before me as I posed drunk and nude for the painting. I kept catching myself staring at their dicks.

Kris announced he had someplace to be and left the room. Ronnie only hung around a few more minutes before doing the same, leaving only Bradley and I in the room. Bradley was very focused on his work, but still very, very bodrum escort erect. “Kim, I’m really sorry about this. It’s really unprofessional and seriously, the first time I’ve ever gotten turned on while painting a nude.”

“Sure Bradley,” I teased. “Don’t worry about it. You’re not the only one turned on.”

Bradley continued painting me until well past dinner. Even though I’d been given several breaks, I was definitely ready to call it quits.

“OK Kim, that’s enough for today. If you’re available tomorrow, I’d love to continue this.”

I got dressed and headed home. Don was waiting for me. “Hey Babe! I’m sorry I had to leave before hearing about your day. Tell me everything!” He grabbed a bottle of wine and led me to the sofa.

I started replaying my day for him. The more I talked, the more he seemed to get turned on. I told him nearly everything, leaving out only the unintentional penetration and the amazing fucking. He sensed my hesitation as I told him about being naked at Kris and Ronnie’s.

“Kim, understand something. You can do whatever you want with your gorgeous body. I don’t care if every guy in town sees it. It’s yours and I’ll always support you. In fact, I only consider it cheating if you have feelings. Anything else is just masturbation, using another person as a sex toy.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I personally don’t have any interest in anyone but you, but Babe, you’re my person and as long as we’re together I want to to experience everything in life there is to experience. That include sexual experiences. As long as I feel like I’m your guy and you’re my girl, I’m cool.

” You’re an interesting guy, Donald. So you’re saying that if Terrance called me right now and asked me to come over for sex, you’d be ok with it?”

“Do you have feelings for him?”

“No!” I answered.

“Have fun,” he laughed.

I was so turned on, I shoved my tongue down his throat as I ripped his clothes off of his body. Once he was naked, I grabbed his cock and devoured it like a starving animal. Except it wasn’t his cock I was sucking. It was the cock of every guy I’d ever wanted to fuck.

I brought Don up to our bedroom and fucked him harder than he’d ever been fucked, as I imagined fucking about a dozen different guys. As hard as he tried, I just couldn’t get enough. It wasn’t his fault; I was insatiable. The next morning I awoke with thoughts of fucking every hot guy in town. Don left for the day and I walked over to Kris and Ronnie’s place. Ronnie answered and invited me in.

“So what did Don think of you hanging out with us yesterday?” He asked as we sat on the sofa.

“He was fine with it.” I said. “In fact… No, never mind.”

“In fact, what??? Tell me!” He pleaded

“In fact, Don is fine with me being naked in front of anybody I want,” I said.

“And casual sex with guys I don’t have feelings for. All good.”

“Bull. Shit!” He said with a big smile.

“I know!” I smiled back. “Crazy, right?”

“And how would a young man like myself get on your list of casual partners?” He asked.

“I don’t know Ronnie,” I flirted back. “Just play your cards right.” I winked.

“KRIS!” He yelled. “BRADLEY!”

“What are you doing, Ronnie!?” I asked.

“Relax, Kim. We’re all friends.” He answered. My arousal was now mixed with high anxiety.

Bradley and Kris arrived in the living room together. “What’s up?” “Oh, hi Kim!”

“Kim here, was just telling me some VERY interesting things.” Said Ronnie. “Apparently, she has a free pass to have as much casual sex as she wants. And the three of us are on her list!”

“I DIDN’T SAY THAT! I exclaimed. “Oh my God, Ronnie! Jerk!” I said, as I punched his arm. I could feel myself blushing and looked down.

Kris took my hand and brought it to his lips. “Well, whether it’s true or not, we’ll always be her for you, Kim.”

“Thanks Kris,” I said, rolling my eyes.

Ronnie stood up and gently took my hand. “How rude of me, Kim. I’ve never given you the upstairs tour.”

I sheepishly stood up and let him lead me out of the room, avoiding eye contact with the other boys. I climbed the stairs behind Ronnie with a healthy mix of shame and anticipation. I wanted this. My God, how I wanted this. The previous day’s events left me so horny, I simply needed to be fucked.

Ronnie led me to his bedroom, then turned toward me and started kissing me and pulling his shirt off. I reached down to feel his already erect, fat cock. I got on my knees and softly bit the bulge of his cock through his jeans.

He unbuttoned them and in one quick motion, pulled them down with his underwear. I aggressively grabbed his beautiful fat cock and brought it to my mouth. I started sucking furiously. I wanted to taste and swallow his cum, but more than that, I needed his cock in my pussy. I released it, stood up and finished removing my clothes.

Once I was completely naked, I bodrum bayan escort said nervously, “Ronnie, I need you to fuck me as hard as you can, and don’t hold back.” I couldn’t believe what was coming out of my mouth. I fell into the bed and opened my legs, while pulling him to me. He placed his tip at my sopping opening and one hard thrust, slid balls deep inside of me.

“Yes, Ronnie!” Fuck me!”

Ronnie started slamming into me for all he was worth.

“Harder, Goddamn it!” I yelled.

“Do I need a condom?” He asked.

“No!” I yelled. “I’m on the pill. Fill me with your cum!”

He picked up the pace and started fucking me harder. Harder and faster, but I wanted more!

“Ahh! I’m cumming!” He yelled. And I felt rope after rope of cum fill my pussy. Ronnie collapsed on top of me with his cock still inside of me.

I whispered in his ear. “Thanks Ronnie. Go get Kris. It’s his turn.”

He seemed disappointed when he pulled out of me. He put on his briefs and pants, and headed downstairs. Meanwhile, I just laid there naked, legs open, slowly leaking cum.

Kris walked into the room. I didn’t bother to cover up. What was the point? I needed him. “Come here, Kris.” I said. “I need to suck a dick.”

I slid off of the bed and from my knees, unbuttoned and unzipped his pants. I yanked them down with his briefs, grabbed his semi erect cock, shoved it into my mouth and started going to town. Sucking an average sized cock is a hell of a lot easier than sucking a big one. I eagerly took every inch of him in my mouth.

I generally enjoyed sucking cock, and even though I always swallowed, I was usually lukewarm about it. I’d have to be super turned on to actually desire cum. But in that moment, I was SO turned on that I couldn’t see straight. I desperately wanted him to fill my mouth with his cum. I wanted to guzzle it by the gallon. I moaned and whimpered as I sucked. I grabbed his balls with my free hand and started to squeeze and pull.

“Oh my God, Kim! You’re amazing!” He moaned. Sucking, stroking, squeezing, and pulling, I gave Kris a world class blowjob. I could tell he was getting close. I squeezed and pulled harder and harder. It HAD to hurt. I wanted it to hurt. “OH GOD! OH GOD! YES! AAAHHHH!!”

I was not disappointed. The size of his load more than made up for the size of his cock. He filled my mouth and I enthusiastically drank down every drop. I continued to suck and milk his cock long after he was done. I looked up at him from my knees and said, “Can you please send up Bradley?”

“Sure,” he said, pulling up his pants and walking out of the room. I caught a glimpse of myself in the full length mirror on Ronnie’s bedroom wall. Look at me. On my knees, naked and freshly fucked by casual partners. Who was this girl looking back at me? I didn’t know and at that moment, didn’t care. All I knew is I was about to get fucked by a gorgeous guy named Bradley.

“Sounds like you’re having a good time, Kim.” Said Bradley as he walked into the room.

“Mm-hmm,” I said, motioning him to come to me. “Bradley, I’m dying to suck your dick. Are you OK with that?”

“Umm, is that a trick question?” He said with a laugh, walking over to me. He unbuttoned and unzipped his pants. Still on my knees, I reached up with Both hands and slid down his pants and underwear. When I did this, his impressive cock popped out and hit me in the face.

“Oops!” I said, popping it quickly into my mouth. I love the feel of a cock getting rock hard in my hand or mouth. He was thicker than I’d remembered from the day before. My fingers couldn’t meet my thumb as I stroked him. It was also surprisingly long. I stroked him with both hands as I sucked the head. Once I had him fully hard, I let go of his dick and got down on all fours.

“Fuck me from behind, Bradley.” I said with just the slightest hint of shame. He got on his knees behind me and brought the head of his cock to my pussy. He slid the tip up and down my wet slit. He pushed in the tip, then grabbed hold of my hips with both hands. He pushed in a couple more inches, stretching my opening. He withdrew to the tip, then pushed again, getting about half way in. He withdrew again. He felt amazing, but I needed more!

“Give it to me, Bradley!” I shouted.

I felt the strength in his hands as he powerfully pulled me to him while burying his cock as deep as it could go. He filled me up, but the pain once again, ripped through my body. He’d bottomed out into my cervix.

“OH! Fuck!” I yelled.

“Oh my God!” Said, Bradley. “I’m sorry, Kim! Do you need me to stop?”

“No,” I said, trying to gracefully manage the excruciating pain. “Just do what I say.” I need you to bottom out with soft thrusts at first, then medium, and then hard. But I’ll let you know when to pick up the pace.”

He did as I instructed, and started with soft thrusts. It hurt like hell, but I’d learned from Terrance the pain would soon subside. After a minute or so, the sharp pain subsided and was replaced my a dull ache and warm tingling that started deep in my belly and gently radiated outwards.

“OK, Good! Now medium thrusts.” I ordered.

Again, he did as I instructed and knocked against my cervix with medium thrusts. The pain was gone now and the tingling grew stronger.

“Yes! Just like that!” I could feel something big building inside me.

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It was mid-afternoon on a Saturday and I had worked several hours to clean up our swimming pool after a spring thunderstorm. First I had to brush the pool sides and bottom, sweeping the twigs, leaves and other junk to the deep end so I could vacuum it out. Then I took the filter apart to clean each cartridge with a high pressure hose. Once I had the water looking good I set about cleaning up the deck around the pool. A leaf blower made that fairly easy, but I had to do it carefully so I wouldn’t blow more junk into the water. The last step was to reverse the leaf blower and use it like a vacuum cleaner to suck all the trash into an attached canvas bag.

Dumping the bag and putting my tools away only took a minute and then I was able to take advantage of all my hard work. I stripped naked and dove into the water. My wife, Pamela, and I live in the middle of seven-plus wooded acres so I wasn’t worried about anyone seeing anything they shouldn’t. Our house and pool are not visible from the road or from other houses, and skinny dipping is normal for us. In some years the calendar is well into July or August before we have visitors and one of my swimsuits gets wet. I absolutely love it.

I was tired and hot from my work, so I just sat in the shallow end and waited until I cooled off a little. Then I hopped out of the water and set about arranging the deck furniture. That only took a few minutes and then I dove in again. I like to train my body for all the snorkeling I do when we go to the ocean, so I spent several minutes holding my breath and swimming laps underwater.

I would have enjoyed the pool more if my wife had been there to skinny dip with me, but she was putting in some extra time at work to beat a looming deadline. That’s what I thought, anyway. When I came up for air I looked over and saw her sitting at the table — and she wasn’t alone. Stephanie, one of my wife’s co-workers, was sitting next to her. They were both watching my every move.

“Hi, Mark,” Stephanie said with a beaming grin.

“Hello, Stephanie.”

“How’s the water?” my wife deadpanned.

“Perfect,” I replied as I took stock of the situation. My wife had obviously been home long enough to change clothes, since she wasn’t wearing what she had on when she left that morning. She had changed into a green t-shirt dress that she often used as a swimsuit cover. Stephanie was wearing what she usually wore when she came to visit us: a t-shirt and a pair of knee-length basketball shorts. I looked around the deck area for something with which to cover myself, but there was nothing. My work clothes were not where I had left them and all the towels were still in the storage closet. “Sorry about this, but I didn’t hear you drive in.”

“You were using the leaf blower when we got here,” Pamela told me. “It was noisy so we just stayed in the kitchen. And then you got naked!”

“We watched your show from inside,” Stephanie laughed. “I told Pam I thought you looked pretty good, so she suggested we come out here for a better view.”

“So, how about giving us a closer look?” said my wife, obviously delighted by my embarrassment. “We want the Full Monty.”

“How nice,” I grumbled.

I stayed in the water and talked with them for a while, keeping close to the wall of the pool so all they could see of me was my head and shoulders. I practically begged for a towel or any sort of clothing, but it was all in vain. Pamela and Stephanie knew I had to get out of the pool eventually and they were waiting patiently for the show. I was embarrassed but also excited that both my sexy wife and her attractive co-worker wanted to see me completely exposed.

They had me and they knew it, so I stroked my cock a few times to make sure it was big. Giving them what they wanted, I made no effort to hurry or cover myself as I climbed the steps out of the pool, giving them a good look at my bare ass. Then I turned and walked straight towards them, ten steps that seemed like a hundred.

“Very nice, Mark,” Stephanie said in a slow drawl. “I’d say you’ve been working out, huh?”

“Uh, yeah,” I mumbled before I turned to address my wife. “Okay, show’s over. Can I have my clothes back now?”

“What do you think, Stephanie?” said Pamela. “Should we give them back to him?”

I felt like a mannequin on display in a store window. Stephanie looked me up and down, taking her time. I remembered how I had looked at her a few months earlier when I saw her in a pair of very short running shorts, and I wondered if she thought I had stared too long. Her gaze lingered on my growing cock for a long moment before she spoke.

“Nah, I don’t think so,” she finally said. “I like things just the way they are.”

“You’re clothes are kind of dirty anyway, Mark,” Pamela told me. “So why don’t you pull up a chair?”

I weighed my options. Pamela or Stephanie had obviously taken my clothes and trying anything physical to get them back was just going to cause me even more embarrassment, especially if I lost. They were both very fit women who would not give up easily. escort bodrum I decided to sit on one of the deck chairs, pulling myself close to the table to hide as much as possible. I also decided not to beg because that might egg them on even more. I have read too many stories where someone promises to “do anything” and things usually just get worse. It was better to let the situation play itself out and hope for the best.

Meanwhile, Pamela and Stephanie were watching me, probably trying to stay one step ahead of me.

“It’s locked, Mark,” Pamela said when she saw me eying the door to the house. “They’re all locked.”

“Okay, I don’t mind staying out here a while,” I said. I reached for the pile of mail I had collected earlier and opened up a magazine. After a while, my two tormenters apparently lost interest and began to talk about work. Evidently, letting me get dressed was not very high on their priority list.

“Is it hot out here?” Stephanie asked after a few minutes. “Or is it just me?”

“It’s not just you,” Pamela replied. “This is the warmest it’s been all spring.”

“Why don’t you go for a swim?” I offered. “The water’s nice and cool, and it’s no fun being the only one who’s naked.”

“That’s too bad,” said Pamela. “You’ll just have to get used to it.”

I was going to have to get over being naked around the two of them, at least for a little while. I was ashamed and humiliated by my situation, but also flattered and aroused. Obviously there was no way they could have anticipated these circumstances. They might have had a few minutes to make a plan before they came outside, but they had improvised fairly well. Given their advantage of numbers, and clothes, I had to accept the idea of them being in charge.

I couldn’t concentrate on the magazine so I got up and jumped back into the pool. When I came up for air I saw Pamela and Stephanie peeling off their clothes. My hopes for a skin show were dashed when I saw they were wearing swimsuits, but they were nice ones. Pamela was wearing a red and brown bikini that I had seen many times. I liked it because her nipples always stood out under the thin fabric of the top. Stephanie had once boasted of not owning any kind of swimsuit other than thong bikinis, and she didn’t disappoint me. Her blue string bikini top and thong bottom left very little to the imagination. Only the cool water kept me from getting an immediate erection as they joined me in the pool. We raced a few laps, played keep-away with a rubber ball, and wrestled over control of an inflatable float. I tried to “accidently” pull off their bikini tops a couple of times, but I was met by icy stares and a level of resistance that told me it wasn’t going to happen. I did manage to cop a feel of Stephanie’s ass a couple of times, but I felt her hands on my butt and my cock even more.

After a while I went under water so I could come up under the float and try to dump Stephanie. I managed to turn her over but she clung to the float and resisted my efforts to take it from her. We wrestled and laughed for a minute or two with neither of us gaining an advantage. Meanwhile, Pamela had gotten out of the pool and retrieved a towel from the storage closet. Stephanie gave up on wrestling over the pool float and let me have it so she could follow Pamela out of the pool. I figured our pool play was over for a little while, so I climbed onto the float and lay on my back, no longer concerned that my cock and balls were fully exposed.

It wasn’t until I stopped moving, and thus squeaking my skin against the vinyl float, that I heard voices and realized that Pamela and Stephanie were not the only ones on the deck. They had been joined by two brunettes. I didn’t recognize the women, but Pamela and Stephanie apparently did. The four of them were lined up beside to pool so they could all get a good look at me. I must have missed the sound of their car coming up our long driveway when I was horsing around with Stephanie. I rolled over into the water and used the float to shield my nakedness.

“It’s too late, Mark,” Stephanie announced. “They already took pictures.”

I looked at the newcomers and saw that one of them did indeed have a small digital camera in her hand. Most of those things have a zoom lens, so it was likely the pictures had captured me in all my glorious naked detail.

“Come here, Mark,” said Pamela. “Our friends want to meet you.”

I thought about it for a second and then waded toward the steps, pushing the float in front of me. I wasn’t quite sure what to do, but my strongest urge was to run away and hide. They had me surrounded, however, and all I could do was go with the flow. I climbed out of the pool, still clutching the float and keeping it between me and the two newcomers.

“Mark, this is Jamie and Jordan,” said my wife.

“Nice to meet you,” one of them said as they both extended their hands. (I wasn’t sure which one was which.)

I didn’t know what else to do so I put out my right hand while I still clutched bodrum sınırsız escort the float with my left.

“They’re joining us for a little party,” Pamela told me as the strangers shook my hand.

The newcomers looked at me and smiled. One of them seemed more timid than the other, but I could relate to that. I was unsure of myself in front of them and I avoided looking at them. Pamela told me their names again and I did my best to act natural. The younger one was Jordan and the older one, the one with the camera, was Jamie. Both were lean brunettes and were well above average in the looks department. I learned that they had been working with my wife and Stephanie earlier in the day and had accepted Pamela’s invitation to spend an afternoon in the country.

“But that was before I knew my husband would be putting on a skin show,” Pamela said to them as she concluded the explanations. “I hope you’re okay with it, though.”

“We were surprised, of course,” said Jamie. “In fact, I was afraid Jordan might run back out to the car.”

“I didn’t want to intrude,” Jordan said a bit coyly. She was obviously embarrassed and was blushing as she spoke. “I’ve never seen anything like this. I hope you don’t mind that we stayed to watch.”

“No problem,” Pamela replied. “In fact, the more the merrier, right, Mark?”

“Uh, yeah,” I said.

There was an awkward moment of silence while they looked at me until Stephanie diffused the situation by asking Jamie to take a picture of me with Pamela and herself.

Jamie agreed but I objected. Pamela ignored my protests and gently took the pool float from me. Everything I had, including my growing cock, was now out in the open. Pamela and Stephanie then lined up with beside the pool me, positioning me so that I was in the middle. They turned sideways a little so they could each pose with one hand on my cock while they waved at the camera with the other.

Two can play that game, I thought to myself.

I put my arms around them and slid my hands down until I had two handfuls of butt cheeks. They weren’t expecting that, and they made me pay for it with more pictures. Pamela took a turn behind the camera as I posed with Jamie and Jordan, and then I posed with each of the four women individually. The session ended with them setting the camera on the table and using the camera’s timer so all four of them could be in the pictures with me.

The photo shoot ended and I now faced the prospect of being in the company of four women while I was not only still naked, but also with a raging hard on. Not that I minded. In fact I wanted Jamie and Jordan to put on swimsuits so I could check out their bodies. Just the opposite happened, however. Pamela put her dress back on while Stephanie wrapped herself in a big beach towel.

“Come, have a seat,” Pamela said, urging everyone to the table. “We have plenty of beer and wine.”

I momentarily forgot about my nudity as I fetched an extra chair so the five of us could sit together. I tried to get next to my wife for a little bit of security, but I wound up between Stephanie and Jamie. They were about the same age, I now noticed, and I wondered how long they had known each other.

“This is fun,” Stephanie said. “I’ve always wanted a naked man at my side.”

“Well, you’ve got me here,” I responded. “What are you going to do with me now?”

It was Jamie who spoke up, interrupting any reply from Stephanie.

“We watched the three of you cavorting in the pool for a while before we came outside,” she said to Pamela. “Do you do this sort of thing a lot?”

“No,” Pamela replied. “But there’s a first time for everything.”

“What did you think?” Stephanie asked, taking control of the conversation. “Did you enjoy the show? Did we excite you?”

“Yes,” Jamie said with a grin as she glanced at Jordan. “We certainly did enjoy it.”

“I’ve heard about this sort of thing,” Jordan added, “but I’d never been to one.”

“One what?” Stephanie asked.

“A party for women where there’s a naked man,” Jordan replied. “But I kind of like it.”

“Haven’t you ever been to a bachelorette party?” Pamela asked. “Or gone to one of those male strip joints?”

“We had a stripper for my sister’s bachelorette party,” Jordan said, “but he kept his g-string on.”

“Well, when you get married we’ll make sure to get one who goes all the way for your bachelorette party,” Stephanie told her. “Some things should just be done right. If a stripper doesn’t strip then he’s just a dancer.”

“Here, here!” Jamie agreed.

“Maybe Mark will do it,” Pamela offered. “What do you think about that?”

“I, uh… sure,” I stammered. “If the pay is good, I suppose. I don’t come cheap, but I’d certainly consider any offer over thousand dollars.”

“Like that’ll ever happen,” Stephanie laughed.

“Don’t forget about the pictures,” Jamie interjected. “We can use them to blackmail you.”

That certainly pressed my panic button. bodrum otele gelen escort Stephanie and my wife had an extensive network of friends and I was worried about who might eventually see the pictures. But another part of me was thrilled beyond belief that I was naked in front of my wife and her friends. I was more aroused than I had been in years, and although I was definitely embarrassed and even somewhat humiliated, I wanted to experience more. It was very confusing.

While I was brooding over my situation, Stephanie suggested we move our little party inside.

“The cooler’s just about empty,” she declared.

“We also need to go over our presentation,” Pamela added. “And the bugs will be out before long.”

Stephanie gathered her clothes and slipped into the house ahead of the rest of us. Jamie and Jordan collected the empty bottles while Pamela picked up the towels and the mail. That left the cooler for me to carry into the house.

“Are you okay with this?” Pamela asked when we lagged behind the others for a moment.

“I’m fine,” I told her. I was pretty sure she expected me to remain naked, but when we got to the kitchen I decided to make a play for my modesty. “I’ll just run upstairs and get dressed. This little game has gone on long enough.”

“Oh, no you don’t,” said Pamela. “What do you say, Stephanie?”

“I vote Mark should stay nude,” Stephanie replied. I noted with disappointment that she had gotten dressed, trading her thong bikini for her t-shirt and basketball shorts. “After all, he hasn’t got anything we haven’t seen already today.”

“Jamie? Jordan?” Pamela said, addressing the others.

“Naked,” Jordan agreed. “It’s more fun.”

“Skin City,” Jamie said. “Definitely.”

I felt my erection returning as the four women looked on. Out by the pool I was frequently nude, but the inside of our house with its polished wood and leather furniture was much more formal. The addition of four fully-clothed women to the setting made me feel much more naked than I had for the previous hour. I wondered what was going to happen next and how it was all going to end.

“We’re going to make ourselves comfortable in the den,” Pamela said to me. “You can make yourself useful by bringing us all a drink.”

I took their drink orders and went to the kitchen for three glasses of wine and a beer. I couldn’t carry it all at once and the women enjoyed themselves as I made two trips, since it gave them more chances to ogle my naked body. I made another trip to the kitchen to fix a drink for myself and when I reentered the den Stephanie and my wife were recounting the events of the day, explaining in detail to Jamie and Jordan how I had come to be naked. They giggled as Stephanie and Pamela related how they had watched me strip down, swim, move the deck furniture and then swim some more.

“We grabbed his clothes when he was swimming underwater,” Pamela concluded. “Then we sat at the table and waited for him to notice us.”

“He actually came up for air twice and didn’t see us,” Stephanie said. “I got a good long look at him.”

“Lucky you,” Jamie replied. “But now we can all have fun.”

“Sit down with us, Mark,” Stephanie said. “Jamie and Jordan have been helping your wife and me with our project at work, and we thought we’d invite them over to celebrate now that we’re finished.”

“Pam tells us you do most of her computer work for her,” Jamie said to me. “It’s nice to know that you’re not just a naked hunk. You’re a naked hunk with some brains.”

“Thanks, I guess,” I said. “Just as long as you know I’ve never done anything like this before.”

“Yeah, sure,” Stephanie said teasingly. “I happen to know you’ve done a striptease or two in your lifetime. Pam showed me the pictures.”

“That was for an audience of one,” I objected, looking to my wife for support. “It was foreplay.”

“He’s right,” Pamela said with a smile. “He did strip for me a couple of times before we were married and he’s done it a few times since then, usually on Valentine’s Day or our anniversary. But this is the first time for anything like this.”

“Well, be sure to invite me if you ever do it again,” Jamie said. She was looking at me intently when she said it and I knew she was serious.

“Me, too,” Jordan laughed. “And I’ll want to invite all my friends!”

Everyone had a good laugh at that and I hoped that she, at least, was not being serious. I took a big sip of my drink and began to get more and more relaxed as the conversation started to pick up. The women talked about work and I was glad that for a while I was not the center of attention. I went for another round of drinks while Pamela went to change clothes. When she came back downstairs she summoned me to the kitchen to help prepare some food.

I wanted to rip off her clothes and jump her bones right there, party or no party, but I managed to control myself. Instead I helped her set up a buffet line in the kitchen. Pamela took care of the lettuce and tomato while I shredded cheese and cooked up some taco meat. Then I stood to one side as the four women filled their plates and settled into chairs around our dining room table. There was only room for four chairs, so my job was to fetch and carry whenever anyone wanted anything. In the meantime I sat on one of our bar stools, well above the level of the dining table where the women could look at me if they wanted to.

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A few years ago, I was a senior manager for a company with retail branches in major North American cities. Since Christmas was a very slow time for us, and we wanted to build a sense of comradery among the far-flung employees–most of whom had never met each other in person–I proposed to my boss, the CEO, that we bring everyone into our headquarters city Dallas for a big Christmas party.

He thought it was a great idea, and allocated me quite a hefty budget to plan and implement the party.

“Spare no expense. Let’s do this thing right,” he said.

Having had our most profitable year by far, it was really a celebration of success with a Christmas theme.

Well, the party date arrived, and what a party it was. At a fine restaurant near the Galleria, I arranged for a kick-ass live band, 6-course steak and lobster dinner, and an open bar.

For legal liability reasons, I had warned my boss against an open bar, but he was insistent, thinking that employees would perceive us as cheap if we limited them to two drink tickets and then leaving them on their own to drink or not, as I had recommended. I finally backed down when he agreed to furnish a shuttle bus to take anyone home.

OK, so we’ve got a bunch of people from out of town at Christmas time celebrating our biggest year ever, and they can drink all they want. Do you think people got pooty-faced? Ahhh, yeah.

The evening started with the sales department making a presentation and giving out all kinds of awards. They took triple the time allotted, so we did not eat dinner until after 9:00 PM. With everyone seated ten to a table during the marathon presentation, what do you think we did? Drink. Alcohol. A lot.

I intentionally assigned seating and mixed people together from different functional areas and from different parts of the country, as the whole intent was to build teamwork.

At my table was the newly promoted Denver Branch Manager I had talked to on the phone several times before, but was just meeting in person for the first time that evening. Sylvia was in her late 20s, medium height, with light brown shoulder-length hair framing a very smiley, cheeky face with a few freckles. Very cute.

She had a really sexy body, too. The short black leather dress she wore was skin-tight and certainly displayed the lovely contours of her ass effectively. I knew she was a runner, and her smooth, muscular legs, accentuated by the black high heels, left no doubt that she had killer gams.

She was wearing a bright yellow satin blouse, unbuttoned one more button than professional, revealing the cleavage of freckled D-cup bosoms supported by a matching yellow bra. Every time she would move, those boobs would jiggle. While satin material certainly accentuates the jiggle on any woman, her tits had the maximum jiggle factor. Jiggle is good!

Her whole demeanor that evening telegraphed, “I am available,” though the large diamond ring on her left ring finger clearly indicated that she was married.

One of my employees, who had been with the company for many years, told me that evening, “Better keep an eye on that Sylvia.”

My eyes bodrum escort bayan were already on her.

Though we were all having a large time, Sylvia appeared to be having the best time of anyone there. Dancing, talking, laughing, drinking, flirting.

Another blouse button became undone, and I could then easily see that the bra was a lacy, semi-transparent one that cut diagonally across her boobs, exposing just the edge of her areola. When she was in the right position, I could see her scrumptious nipples. Tasty!

I noticed that she would be dancing with someone, then disappear for a while. She seemed to be a bit more disheveled each time she’d return, you know, hair mussed, make-up not quite perfect, a few more wrinkles in the blouse that began the evening immaculately pressed. Just what was Sylvia up to, anyway?

I was drinking quite a bit myself, gulping Jack Daniels and soda. Knowing that I was the guy who would sign the voucher for his tip check, our personal bartender I think was making sure my drinks were extra strong.

I needed some fresh air, so I stepped out front with the CEO where we smoked cigars. We, of course, carried our drinks with us. Even he commented that Sylvia looked particularly good that night.

When we came back up the elevator together back into the restaurant, he went one way and I the other. I needed to piss like a muthah, but there was a long line to the men’s room, mostly our employees, so I began to hunt around for another. I couldn’t find one, couldn’t wait, and considered but quickly dismissed the notion of using the lady’s. So, I wandered back through the kitchen, grabbed a tall iced tea glass, and decided to duck into somewhere private and pee in it. A bunch of whiskey will do such things to one’s usual inhibitions.

I exited the kitchen from another door on the far side and found myself in a hallway, quiet and empty. I tried a utility closet door, but it was locked, so, with the coast clear, I just whipped it out, filled up the glass to the very top, and carefully set it down on the floor. Some employee would surely pick it up and take it back to the kitchen and hopefully think it was just diluted tea and not strong pee.

Though relieved, I suddenly felt bad–that I’ve-had-too-much-to-drink-and-just-smoked-a-Cohiba-too-fast feeling. I realized that I did not want to go back to the party, that I didn’t want to see anyone else that evening, that I was done partying for the night. I just wanted to get out of there in a hurry.

I sat down right on the hall floor in my suit and collected my wits. It was a long way to where I parked my car, but if I went back the way I came in, I would run into many employees, and it would be forever before I got out of there. There must be a way outside from where I was.

I took a deep breath, gathered myself, and stood up. “Exit” with an arrow pointing left read an overhead sign down at the far end of the hall. I walked down that way and made the turn–another long hallway. There was an “exit” sign at the end of it, and a crash door below the sign. The fire exit. Good, my escape ortakent escort route. I’m outta here.

I quickly made my way to the door. When I got there, I very slowly pushed it open, afraid it might sound an alarm, and ready to sprint out if it did. But what I heard was no alarm. I was in a stairwell, and it sounded like some people were below. I carefully let the spring-loaded door ease back shut with only a little click. I listened intently. Hmmmm.

“Suck that cock. Suck it real good, now,” I heard a male voice say, followed by noisy slurping sounds.

“The better I suck, the better you fuck, right?” I heard from a female voice.

These voices were coming from the landing just below me. I had to get a look, so I tip-toed down a few more steps, squatted down, and craned my neck around under the hand rail for the visual ID.

Well, well, well. It was none other than Sylvia and our West Coast Sales Director! I had a nearly perfect view, only ten or so feet away. With her blouse down around her waist and her front-snap bra still on but open, I could see those perfect, nippley freckled boobs just a jiggling. Good!

The lower part of her face was wet with saliva, and she was staring right up at him as she cupped his balls in one hand, choked his chicken with the other, and made deep thrusts up and down his cock with her mouth. Suction sounds and concave cheeks left no doubt she was sucking for all she was worth. Very good!

From the moment I met him, I always thought Ross, the sales guy getting the BJ, kind of looked like a male porn star. He had hair long in the back and short in the front and sides, an obvious fake-bake tan, artificially whitened teeth, and wore cutting-edge clothes more appropriate for the music industry than our business. I chalked his look up to the fact that he was West Coast.

But what completed the porn star image was the guy’s cock. That sombitch musta been 10 inches long and thick as a kielbasa, accentuated by the fact that he was a small guy, only about 5’6″ and maybe 140 pounds. Sylvia was having no trouble sucking it all the way in and out of her mouth, though.

“Finally found the man at the party with the big dick,” she said.

I realized then that she had probably been taking her dance partners to this spot throughout the evening in her quest for The Big One. That’s why she’d looked increasingly, well, fucked!

Ross’ pants and shorts were already down around his ankles, and Sylvia proceeded to unbutton his shirt, twist his tie around to the back (funny!), and kiss his very hairy chest. His massive member nestled between her considerable mounds of jello, and she drooled saliva down on his cock as he vigorously titty-fucked her. Very, very good!

After a few minutes of that action, she stood up and turned around. Afraid I’d be spotted, I quickly ducked back, grazing the top handrail with the back of my head. “Bong” went the metal rail.

“What the fuck was that?” asked Ross, concern apparent in his voice.

“Oh, nothing, probably pipes warming up,” explained Sylvia, obviously gümbet escort not the least bit worried and anxious to get fucked.

She was correct; my pipe was definitely warming up!

I heard a zipper and some rustling. I pictured that zipper on the side of her leather dress, so I gingerly eased back where I could see. Holy moly! She was bent over the rail, back arched, tits hanging down, and was reaching between her legs with two fingers to part her pussy lips. Her skirt, blouse, bra, and panties lay on the landing beside her, so she was nude but for the high heels. Very, very, very good!

Looking over her shoulder at Ross, Sylvia begged, “Shove that big cock in me and fuck the shit out of me.”

And so he did, plunging that slab of meat all the way in on the first stroke. He gradually picked up the pace until he was pistoning her like a 455 V-8 at redline, her luscious runner’s buns rippling with every stroke.

“Fuck…me…hard…with…that…big…dick!” she veritably shouted in time to his thrusts.

And so he did.

In a while, her face flushed, and she came, “I’m cumming, I’m cumming, I’m cumming.”

She may have broken some kind of record for orgasm duration. Very, very, very, very good!

I could tell by the look on Ross’ face he was close.

I guess Sylvia could tell, too, for she announced, “I want you to cum in my mouth. I want to drink that cum down.”

She spun around, grabbed his cock and steered it towards her mouth, but was a second too late.

His first spurt, with ballistic force hit her on the cheek and ricocheted into her hair. She had his big cock in her mouth the next second and started swallowing for all she was worth, but cum drained in quantity from the corners of her mouth anyway. Ross was just full of cum; I’d always thought he was full of shit! Sylvia continued to milk him over and over with mouth and both hands until he couldn’t take any more and actually pushed her away. Very, very, very, very, very good!

She stood up, hiked her boobs up, slurped off the sperm overflow, and turned completely around, naked but for her high heels. That was the best view yet I’d had of her–360 degrees of big firm tits, shaved pussy, perfect ass, and runner’s legs. Flawless! What a piece of ass!!!

“That was the best fuck I’ve had all night,” she declared.

“You’re the best fuck I’ve had all night, too,” he lamely replied.

“Ross,” Sylvia clarified, “Thanks, but the difference is I’m the ONLY person you’ve fucked tonight, whereas I’ve fucked most of the senior sales department, and I’m not done yet, so somebody just might knock you out of first place before the night is over.”

They began to put on their clothes, and I went from pleasure to panic. Oh shit! How could I get out of there without being found out? I, the paragon of corporate virtue? I decided to pretend that I had just come through the crash door as they ascended the stairs towards me to go back in.

“Oh, hey, y’all. I got a bit turned around. Can you get out of the building this way?” I said in my most sincere tone.

“How long you been in this stairwell?” asked Ross.

Before I could say a word, Sylvia answered for me, “About half an hour,” squeezing my comparatively small, though rock hard penis as she passed.

I handed her my handkerchief. “Here, you may need this. Gotta little somethin’ on your cheek and in your hair there.”

She had known I was watching them the whole time.

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“At the risk of sounding rude,” I began meekly, fidgeting with the sleeves of my floor-length robe, “when exactly can I expect—“

“…Payment?” Mr. Clark, the college’s drawing professor, finished. I nodded. He wore a kindly smile on his face, and it offered just enough comfort to keep me from running, screaming, from the building. I was all nerves and dread, bottled up like a vigorously-shaken soda and ready to pop at a moment’s notice. “Not to worry,” he continued. “It’s all right here.” He withdrew a thin envelope from the back pocket of his woebegone blue jeans, stained here and there from various pigments, and I pinched the edges to chance a peek inside after he pressed it into my hands. Once I spotted the mildew green of the six twenty-dollar bills, I placed the envelope gingerly into my purse.

“Thank you so much.” I tried to keep the resigned sigh from creeping into my voice. “You don’t know what a lifesaver you’ve been. I really needed this. If it hadn’t been for your ad…”

“Really, I should be thanking you,” he assured me. “Our other model dropped out so soon, I was sure I would have to reschedule the class. It would have made a mess out of the rest of the semester. You’ve done me a big favor by showing up at all. Maybe if it goes well, we can give you a call for the life-drawing class in spring,” he added cheerfully, and I felt the color drain from my face.

“Oh, I don’t know,” I said.

“Well, are you about ready? Did you try those stretching exercises I sent you? I won’t ask you to do handstands or anything, of course, but staying posed for so long can be straining…”

“I did, thanks.” He inclined his greying head in a grateful nod, and I fell into step beside him as he began to trot towards the classroom door. I suddenly felt cold all over. Something like a scream was building up in the back of my head, and I could hear it just as clearly as if it was erupting out of my mouth. Self-consciously, I found myself touching my lips with my fingertips, making sure my lips were firmly shut. “And how long am I standing again?”

“Two hours. It would be shorter, but this is their midterm. We’ll take a fifteen minute break after the first forty-five minutes.” The door handle creaked with the rotation of his wrist, and a waft of cool air flitted over my skin from the next room. I caught the waxy, heady scent of paint and the warm smell of old wood. “Are you sure I can’t get you some tea?” he asked suddenly, and when I looked back up at him, worry had tainted his features. I quickly tried to banish the dread from my expression.

“I’m fine,” I lied. He gave me another warm smile, and I returned it as best as I could before he moved through the doorway and gestured for me to follow.

The room was enormous and furnished only with tall cupboards and a line of wide, white drawing tables, (tilted at varying degrees for the artists), that encircled a raised platform. Each table was inhabited by a student perched in a stool. I tried not to make eye contact with any of them, and I could tell that they were trying to do the same out of courtesy. The lighting was dim save for a few hanging lights that were angled at the platform, bathing it in a warm glow. I hoped that the glare of the lights would blot out their faces, like being on stage. That would make the whole experience go by much faster.

Feeling somewhat like a virgin ascending to a sacrificial pedestal, I wound my way dazedly around the ring of desks and into the middle of the circle. There was a chair on top of it, draped with swathes of orange fabric in a lovely, haphazard sort of way. Swallowing, I clambered onto the platform and stood awkwardly in the middle. First, Mr. Clark would introduce me to the class—something I found completely unnecessary but that he insisted would make all of us feel more comfortable.

And then, off went my robe. I wasn’t wearing anything underneath it, and—right then, for the first time, at the most inconvenient moment—I wondered frantically how the class would react to my full-Brazillian wax job. The term “nude model” conjured an image of ludicrously stereotypical hipster women who were, doubtlessly, much hairier than I could ever dream of being comfortable with.

I was probably just being ridiculous. I hoped I was.

As if from far, far away, I heard Mr. Clark announce, “This is Lila, everyone. She’s been gracious enough to pose for us today, and with very short notice.”

“Thanks, Lila,” the class intoned. The mesh of adult voices sounded eerie in its monotony. Very Children of the Corn. I could pick out a few that were trying their hardest to be reassuringly chipper, and I wondered how terrified I looked.

“No problem,” I croaked out.

“We’ll begin whenever you’re ready,” Mr. Clark said gently, and I gave him a little nod. “Class, if you haven’t prepared your supplies, now’s the time to do it. There’s tape on my desk if you’d like to secure your paper.” A soft scuffle of activity followed, brought bodrum escort bayan upon by a handful of students rising from their desks and making their way towards the front of the classroom. To my dismay, I could still make out everyone’s faces, but they did seem a little dimmer outside of the light.

After a few moments, when the rustling had died down slightly, I took a deep, deep breath that seemed deafening in the silence, and then I began to remove my robe.

I did it quickly, despite my trepidation. Taking it off slowly would feel too much like a striptease, and I was already uncomfortable enough. Once I had balled it up and tossed it to the side, I lowered myself shakily into the chair. Taking care to cross my legs, I reclined, and then trained my stare carefully on the rooftop window at the back of the classroom. There was a moment of hesitation from the class as I wiggled slowly to make myself comfortable, but when I finally let my limbs droop, I heard the rustle of paper and fingers and the clatter of chalk pastels.

The first fifteen minutes went by very slowly. Ignoring the dozens of eyes that were playing over my figure—pausing at my navel, my hip, the slow slant of my shoulders—was a daunting task at first, but to my surprise, I began to find that the feeling wasn’t quite as invasive as I had imagined it would be. There weren’t any whispers or giggles, and by the time the professor was announcing my shift into the second pose, I was nearly at ease.

But when I rose to my feet to change positions, I felt it.

It was gentle at first; soft, teasing, like a stray hair on the side of my neck. But when I reached up to scratch, it persisted. A buzz. Carefully, I let my eyes stray throughout the classroom, and through the sea of heads that were ducked down to prepare a new sheet of paper or pick out different colors, I saw him.

He was tall and lanky, all elbows and shoulders and lean muscle. A portrait of a starving artist if there ever was one. His skin was tan in a way that hinted at wild summer concerts and debauched evenings, and his slightly scruffy face was haloed by closely-cropped dark brown hair. It did a good job of framing his eyes. His eyes, green and stung with veins of golden brown. His eyes, trained right on my face. Shamelessly. Something inside of them seemed charged, and when they lowered to my mouth, I felt them tickle invasively across my lips like static.

Before he could drag those wicked eyes back up to meet mine, I wrenched my face back towards the other end of the classroom and swallowed. Then, trying my hardest to ignore the feather-soft touch of his gaze, I shifted my weight to my left hip and crossed my arms gently over my chest. My right hand rose to touch my cheek. After a moment, I willed my body to relax, and the room was filled again with soft scratching noises.

But, to my horror, I couldn’t seem to shake the sensation of him watching me.

Maybe it was because I was so utterly aware of him, but I felt his stare skim my body like so many hungry tendrils. My heart leapt into my chest as his eyes dragged down my calf, scrutinized the plump curve of each of my toes. It paused there for what felt like an eternity, and then it ascended. From the many skritch-scratches of dozens of sticks of chalk, I thought that I could hear his loudest of all. Mapping out the curve of flesh just above my knee in a quick stroke, pausing, rising with excruciating slowness to the swell of my thigh. His stare lingered there, painstakingly diligent in capturing the dimple beneath my hip, and then I felt my breath catch as it dove between my legs.

My cheeks stung with a faint heat. I was being incredibly inappropriate, and I was positive that it was beginning to show. I let my eyelids flutter shut and tried to concentrate on the even rush of my breathing. That seemed to be working. But, even still, I could sense his eyes skittering over the sensitive flesh of my belly like an army of ants…

“…Lila?”

My eyes snapped open and I looked down at Mr. Clark in surprise. He lifted his eyebrows, a careful expression of inquiry.

“The next pose, please,” he said. “Then we can take a short break.”

Trying my damnedest to banish the flush from my cheeks and steady my breathing, I fidgeted in place and stretched my arms. I was very careful to keep my face from straying back towards the man with the green eyes. From the corner of my vision, I could see him bent over his box of supplies. Looking for new colors, maybe. New hues to invade new parts of me.

A slow heat unwound in my stomach, and I arched my spine and brought my arms high over my head. My fingers clasped together behind my neck, thrusting my bosom forward and putting the milky valleys of my torso on perfect display. I let out a shaky breath. And, like a persistent itch, the fingers of his scrutiny returned to explore my flesh.

God, I loved it.

I revelled in the hot bitez escort graze of his eyes on my ribcage, rising slowly to taste the swell of my breasts. And then, (and I had to fight hard to resist the urge to bite my lip from sheer glee), it plucked curiously at the flushed peaks of my nipples. I finally let my gaze flit towards him. His lips, a full stain of pink in his face, were opened just slightly, and his arm seemed unsteady as it descended to cast a leisurely curve onto the paper in front of him. He had such long fingers. They curled delicately over the stick of chalk, worked it with lazy, broad strokes. His spine curved as he knelt a little closer to the paper, and the chalk paused, hovering at the tip of a gentle arc. The dip above my hip bones, maybe. Or the nape of my neck. Carefully, his face tilted up to observe me again, and a jolt of electricity crackled through my nerves as he met my stare.

Those green eyes were veiled by a wild, disoriented blur. Something hot writhed in their depths. And, when he caught me watching him, the right corner of his mouth lifted into a lopsided smile of delight.

I had to bite back a moan.

“And that concludes our last practice pose,” Mr. Clark said, wrenching me out from my daze. Quick as a flash, I dipped down and snatched my robe back up. “We’ll return in fifteen minutes for your final sketch.” And, to my horror, “Let’s all give Lila a hand—she’s been just great.”

I looked down at the floor as the classroom rewarded me with a smattering of applause, then forced a smile and descended from my perch, jerking the tie to my robe shut along the way.

By the time I made it into the adjacent room, he had vanished from behind me. Probably to go to the bathroom. I wished I could do the same, but I didn’t want to wander the halls clad in only a bathrobe and I certainly didn’t want to delay the class. Instead, I shut the door behind me and knotted my fingers into my ponytail, trying to compose myself. I needed to get a grip. I could still feel the dregs of lust teasing at my insides, warm and delicious and needle-sharp. When Mr. Clark came in, I quickly released my lower lip from the confines of my teeth and tried to chase the languor from my expression. Judging from the startled look on his face, I hadn’t acted quite quickly enough.

“I hope I’m not interrupting,” he said carefully, and I gave him a panicky smile.

“Just getting some water,” I lied, glancing over at my water bottle, which was five feet away from me and propped up against my purse.

He cleared his throat. “Alright. And you’re…comfortable, so far?”

Too comfortable. “Yeah,” I said instead. And then, after a moment’s pause, “Do I…get to see what they’ve drawn…?”

“If you’re interested, I could send some pictures once I’ve documented and graded the work,” he said, and then he chuckled. “You’re not the first to ask, but I ought to warn you—you might find a some to be less than flattering.”

“That’s fine. I’m just curious.” I finally crossed the room and plucked up my water bottle, then turned back to him after I had taken a swig. “So, uh, for the final pose…”

“Whatever’s comfortable for you. You’ll want to be sitting, of course—it’s an hour long, after all—so I’d recommend that you stretch your legs a bit now, while you can. The rest of the building is nearly abandoned this time of the day, so if you’d like to go out into the halls, I’m sure—“

“I’ll just stay in here,” I said quickly, terrified of the prospect of running into my new acquaintance with the probing eyes. Thankfully, Mr. Clark only shrugged.

“I’ll knock when we’re ready for you,” he said, and I drooped with relief as he made his way back out into the classroom.

Ten minutes later, after I had drowned myself in water, circled the room a dozen times and smothered the stubborn embers of desire that were still glowing deep in my stomach, I heard a gentle knock. Newly emboldened, I opened the door with my shoulders squared in determination. I was going to be the epitome of model-dom. I was going to be an focused, efficient, unfeeling machine. I was—

Oh, fuck.

As I strode into the classroom, I saw that the seating arrangement had been slightly…altered. Instead of perching himself safely out of my field of vision, Green Eyes had found a new spot. Directly in front of my chair. He was facing the table, hunched over his toolbox, but I could feel green irises tracking my movements from the corners of his eyes. I squinted down at him as I climbed back onto the platform, and while he didn’t quite look at me, his eyebrows rose slightly in response.

“Everyone, take your seats,” Mr. Clark announced. The rest of the class clambered back into their chairs, and my hands hovered over the ties of my robe. Dread was puddling like ice in the hollows of my bones, as well as something…else.

The class had gone patiently quiet, and, after gümüşlük escort some hesitation, I shrugged my way out from my robe. Swallowing, I lowered myself back into the chair, shifting this way and that as I struggled to find a position that I could imagine staying in for an hour. A pang of anxiety strummed my nerves as the man with the green eyes lifted his head to watch me squirm, and he seemed to lean forward ever so slightly with anticipation as my legs crossed. Something about his eagerness sent new waves of warmth unspooling into my bloodstream, thick and sweet and sluggish as molasses.

I met his eye challengingly, memorizing the fan of his lashes and peering deep into the void of his pupils. His lips quirked up into the faintest of smiles. Feeling completely lost, I sank down into the chair, stared weakly at the back wall, and let my muscles unwind. My head tilted gently to the side. I lifted my arms, exposing the panes of my torso, and let them rest just above my head. And then, with a dry, nervous swallow, I slowly parted my thighs, just a little. I think the professor might have coughed.

When I dared to glance back down at my new acquaintance—only for half a second—the look in his eye could have made even the most lascivious of ladies blush crimson.

I continued to stare hopelessly at the wall after that, listening to the scrawl of chalk and repressing shudders as he greedily drank in every nook and cranny of my flesh. From the corner of my eye, I saw him select a pale pink stick of chalk, and my eyelids felt drowsily heavy when his gaze raked over my chest.

I imagined his hands in place of his stare, crawling languidly over my stomach, pinching my thighs, lazily rolling my breasts in their palms. When his eyes delved in between my thighs, I imagined him filling me up, fucking me slowly with those long fingers. With every brush of his chalk, he jerked me, tugged me, urged me, never minding that I was unwinding in front of him. He drew me like he wanted to conjure me up in front of him, close enough to graze with his fingertips. He echoed the way he yearned to touch me with each slow, violent stroke; lazy and rough all at the same time.

God, I wanted those hands on me.

After one last flick of his wrist, he brought his thumb to the paper and blended a spot gently, scrutinizing the hollow of my collarbone as he did. Static fluttered over my throat like a hungry mouth. His other hand was gripping the edge of the tilted drawing table, and as I watched, his fingers constricted in a slow squeeze over the corner. It was secretive, something just for me, and the yearning in that gesture sent a surge of heat blossoming between my legs and rising into my body like ribbons of ink in water. I was hot, wet, throbbing in front of him, and every brush of his eyes tongued sweetly at the sensation and manipulated me further towards the edge. I hoped frantically that my arousal wasn’t prominent to the students sitting in front of me. My breathing was becoming heavy, and my efforts to hide it were becoming more and more futile.

He lowered the stick of light pink chalk and paused with his hand hovering tantalizingly over his toolbox, and I watched him with breathless anticipation. After a minute, he selected two sticks: a creamy lavender and a darker pink. He let the stick of pink flit over a confined spot, and when his thumb came up to rub the pigment so gently into the paper, I knew where his fingers were. His eyes drank up the swell of my inner thigh, probed my lips, darted upwards to tease at my clit. The lavender came next, and his gaze lapped at the little crease between my thigh and my hip. It traveled up and up—rubbing the outline of my waist, fluttering briefly below my breasts—and suddenly, he stopped. The chalk went back into the toolbox, and he withdrew another color. Blue.

He seemed to hesitate, but then, he let his stare wander slowly towards my face. And then he was looking right into my eyes and I was looking back. His face was slack, his lips were parted, and his shoulders quivered with a delicious unsteadiness as he gazed unapologetically up at me through drunkenly heavy eyelids. His eyes were hopelessly bright and slitted with want. He inhaled richly when he caught me looking, and a pang stung my insides as he leaned just a bit closer. The tip of a pink tongue rasped briefly over the corner of his upper lip.

And for whatever reason, that was my undoing.

Hot, heady pulses bloomed and throbbed inside of me and squeezed the air from my lungs. The walls of my passage, wet and tortured from his indecency, constricted sweetly as I struggled to keep my thighs slightly parted and repressed the urge to writhe in my chair.

I coughed, trying to mask the heaves of my chest. It might not have worked as well as I’d hoped. Two women to the left of me looked mildly horrified. In front of me, the man with the green eyes let out a faint, shuddering exhale of appreciation. Somewhere beneath the glowing haze of my post-orgasmic bliss, I hated him for having a desk to hide under while my arousal was put up on display like a statue. It wasn’t fair. But his fingers continued to manipulate the blue pigment in brief little strokes, and when he dipped down to pluck up a stick of teal, my stomach lurched with realization. He was drawing my eyes.

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Camilla replaced the bed-sheet that had been drenched in her come from her previous masturbating and put the can of pencils in front of the hidden camera hole. “Don’t worry, my voyeur next-door neighbour, I’ll let you see more later,” she said. Then she went to bed and slept for an hour.

Candice returned at noon with some medicine. She had Camilla take some cough mixture and spray some nasal mist up her nostrils; then Candice made lunch for both of them.

“Sorry I’m late coming back,” Candice explained as they ate. “I ran into my boyfriend and had a coffee with him in Starbucks. We made plans to get together for the afternoon. I’ll be going as soon as we finish eating, but I promise to be back around 5 or 6 PM to check up on you. Are you feeling any better?”

“Yeah, don’t worry about me,” Camilla said. “The medicine is already working.”

After Candice left, Camilla went back into the bedroom and got on the bed. She took the pencil can away from the hole in the wall and noticed the camera move slightly. “Does this guy ever turn it off?” she asked herself of her next-door-voyeur neighbour. “Oh, well: I guess I’ll give him another show.”

After putting some paper towels on the centre of the bed, she lay on it on her back with her head at the foot of the bed and her legs spread wide apart so her vulva and anus would be visible to the voyeur. She started masturbating.

*******************************

Those holes were visible to him, indeed. Jim, 42, had the camera move down and zoom in on Camilla’s spread, but included her head so that, on his computer screen, he could see her looking straight at the camera as she touched herself.

“I can’t believe it,” he said to himself. “She wants me to watch!” He unzipped his pants, pulled out his hardening penis and started stroking it.

*******************************

Camilla started remembering her first strip show at Luvlee’s. Those fond memories would be ample fuel for masturbatory fantasy.

On that day, Camilla was eager to display herself, but unsure if the men would like her. None of the men watching her were attractive. She heard a few cheers as she got out of her white T-shirt and pink miniskirt at the end of her first song, ‘Single Ladies’, by Beyonce. Some more cheers were heard when she removed her pink bra and panties during her second song, Beyonce’s ‘Sweet Dreams’. She took off her running shoes and socks for her third song, ‘Flashing Lights’, by Kanye West. A man in his mid-forties came up to sit at the tip rail with a similarly-aged friend of his. He was not all attractive in any conventional sense: somewhat overweight and bald, with all grey for the remaining rim of hair around the sides and rear of his head. He had a bushy grey moustache, and wore a short-sleeved light-blue dress shirt and navy blue dress pants. He smiled at the sight of Camilla’s sweet nakedness on the stage.

Encouraged by his smiles, she spread her upraised legs wide open for him (Camilla’s spread for Jim was an exact imitation of this spread: both holes in plain view). He rested his head on his left hand and stared with his eyes and mouth wide open in lustful amazement. His friend laughed at his total loss of control, for the bald man could hardly contain his admiration for the delicious beauty she was showing him, and his penis quickly became rock-hard. Though most girls would be annoyed at such a blatant expression of lechery, Camilla was touched by it: thanks to him, her confidence increased tenfold. She assumed he was salivating at the sight of her liquorice vulva, though actually he preferred her brown anus, which looked like pursed lips that wanted to be passionately French-kissed. She lewdly looked back into his eyes while pursing her bright red lips, an appropriate variation bodrum escort on what he saw below. Then she rolled over on all fours and crawled toward the back of the stage, where the mirror showed the man’s reflected reaction, which was all lascivious awe at the sight of her still-clearly exposed vulva and anus. She was nervous to know a man wanted her so voraciously, but she was also excited by his ogling; for though he wasn’t her first choice for a lover, he was assuredly an available lover. She breathed heavily as she alternately looked at his reflection in the mirror, and turned her head around shyly to look at him directly.

*******************************

As Camilla remembered the events of that day in Luvlee’s, she tickled her hard clitoris with her index finger and massaged her G-spot with her middle finger. She moaned audibly so the microphone that she correctly assumed was in the wall could pick up the sound of her voice. The whole time she had been on her back with her upraised legs spread wide open so Jim could see both anus and vulva. Then she rolled over on all fours as she had been for the bald man in Luvlee’s, now showing herself off exactly the same way for Jim’s camera. Her legs were wide open, and her behind pointed out toward the camera, exposing her vulva and anus. As she continued fingering and stroking her wet vulva, she looked back at the camera with salacious eyes that asked the viewer if she was pleasing him.

*******************************

She was! Jim vigorously slid his hand up and down his shaft as he watched the image on his computer screen, zooming it in to see her holes in better detail.

“Oh, that candy cunt!” he groaned as he played with himself. “Oh, that pretty asshole! Keep moaning, you little bad girl!” His eyes and mouth widened exactly as those of the bald man in Luvlee’s had.

*******************************

Masturbating Camilla continued remembering that first day in Luvlee’s.

As soon as she finished her floor-show, she got off the stage with only her purse, and, still naked, went up to where the bald man was sitting with his friend at the tip rail. “Did you enjoy my show?” she asked him with a smile.

Looking up and down her nude body, he panted, “Did I ever!” He couldn’t take his eyes off her large breasts and pubic hair.

Shyly giggling and blushing, she asked, “Would you like me to give you a lap-dance?”

“Yes, I would like several,” he said. “I don’t think I’ll be back for quite a while, Hal,” he said to his friend. “You may want to go home without me if I’m not back after an hour.” He and Camilla then went into a private room. “So, your name is Camilla, as the DJ called you?” he asked as she sat on his lap.

“Yeah,” she giggled shyly. “What’s your name?”

“Wayne,” he said, and they shook hands as if he and the naked 18-year-old were meeting in a church. “How long have you been working here? I come here often; I’ve never seen you here before.”

“This is my first day,” she said with a giggle. “I just turned eighteen, so I’m barely legal.”

“My goodness,” Wayne said as he looked down at her body again. “You’re just a little baby.” He cradled and rocked her in his arms as if she were his baby daughter. She enjoyed his tenderness. “A little baby.”

“Yeah,” she giggled shyly. The next song began. “Shall we start?”

“Sure,” he said, and she started grinding on his crotch. He grunted in a call-and-response to her sighs of pleasure. She was impressed by the size of his erection: guessing it at seven inches (it was actually six-and-a-half), it was also thicker than any penis she’d ever known before. She imagined how good he’d feel inside her. Furthermore, though he wasn’t good-looking, turgut reis escort he was good-feeling: he had magical, electric fingers that gently touched her, with great sensitivity to her erogenous zones. He intuitively knew exactly where to caress her to drive her wild with desire. She was definitely willing to sleep with him.

He cupped her breasts in his hands, and gently tickled and pinched her nipples. She squealed with pleasure. He put his hand on her vulva and rubbed his finger against her clitoris. She sighed her appreciation to him. She got up and bent over; he opened her buttocks to see her wrinkly brown anus. He stroked it and opened the hole. Now Camilla realized what he must have been looking at when she’d spread her legs for him on the stage. Very well, she thought, I’ll indulge him because I want to please him. When he moved his hands from her behind and started fingering her vagina, she moved her bottom around in circles and, looking back at him, watched his eyes as they followed it. Since her legs were wide open enough for her anus to be still partly visible, she correctly assumed his eyes were following that brown spot between her buttocks, so she opened her right buttock so he could see her anus better. He was delighted at the sight of those swirling wrinkles as they widened and became more clearly visible; he appreciated her encouraging him to indulge in his fetish. On a pretty girl like her, a dirty hole like that was always beautiful.

She then turned around and sat on him, this time facing him. He gently pushed his left long finger deep inside her rectum, then rubbed his right index finger around her vaginal opening. She responded with a gravelly moan. After a few seconds of moving his long finger in and out of her rectum, he pulled it out to smell it. It was very faecal-smelling, but he liked the smell, because it was her smell. He then slid his long finger back inside her rectum. She liked the sensation as much as he did, and squealed in response while looking approvingly in his eyes. The feeling of the bulge in his pants rubbing against her genitals was particularly arousing for her. As his right index finger started sliding inside her vagina, he would soon come to a surprise…

*********************************

Camilla was still on all fours with her behind pointed at the camera. As she continued vividly replaying images of that day in her mind, she slid her own fingers deeply in and out of her vagina and anus, all the while moaning and making sure what she was doing would be clearly seen by her neighbour with his camera. Both fingers touched the upper walls, massaging her G-spot and the rectal wall neighbouring her lower vaginal wall. She was dripping wet, and moaning and squealing like a wild animal.

*********************************

Jim quickly moved his hand up and down his hard phallus as he, amazed, watched her masturbating on his computer screen. Watching her was better than watching a video of Taylor Rain (one of Jim’s favourite porn stars) fingering herself, because Camilla wasn’t doing it for the money–she did it because she liked it, and she did it all for him.

“Yeah!” he grunted. “Jam your fingers up your cunt and asshole! She wants me to watch. I can’t believe it!”

*********************************

To continue with the memory of Camilla’s first-ever lap-dance…

When Wayne continued sliding his finger inside her vagina, he was surprised to hit a bump: it was a hymen!

“Camilla,” he said with his eyes and mouth agape. “You’re still a virgin?” She blushed and turned her head away in embarrassment. “My sweet little innocent baby! How could such a beautiful, sexy girl like you not have sex yet?”

Though türkbükü escort he was now more excited than ever, she now felt much less attractive. “My mommy controls my life too much,” she said with beginning sobs. “I hate her. She never lets me do anything.” She was crying, and he held her in his hungry arms.

“Well, if your mommy is so controlling, how did you get work here, sweetie?” Wayne–much harder than ever before–asked with a gentle, avuncular voice, rocking her back and forth as a father would his daughter.

“She doesn’t know I’m working here. I told her I’m staying at my friend Candice’s house tonight. I wanna lose my virginity so badly. I wanna be a woman, not a little girl, as my mommy wants. She put me in an all-girls’ Catholic school so I’d be ‘safe’ from boys. That’s just as well, since I don’t like boys my age; they’re so immature and rude; that’s why I like older men.” She continued crying as he cradled her in his arms. He rubbed his bulging crotch against her clitoris; as she sobbed, she moaned with excitement. “I’ve been with a few boys, but I only jerked them off or tried to blow them. I got naked for them, and they said I should be a stripper. But they didn’t like how I do fellatio; they were so mean. They said I ‘suck at sucking’.” She put her head on his shoulder and sobbed loudly between sighs of pleasure. He put his hand on her head and stroked her hair.

“Oh, don’t cry, sweetie,” he said as he stroked her clitoris with his other hand. He also fingered her adorable hymen from time to time. “You just need a man to practice fellatio on, and to teach you how to do it.” Obviously, he was hoping to be that man.

Though she wanted to be with him that night, she’d already made other arrangements, so he would have to wait until next time. “Well,” she said between sighs of pleasure, “I’m sleeping with my boss, Mr. Chen, tonight. I offered him my body to make sure I got a job here, because I really want to be a stripper. I wanna be desirable to men, not be just a chaste little mommy’s girl. Oh!”

“You’re desirable to me,” Wayne groaned as he continued to finger her clitoris, her G-spot and her rectum. “I’ll give you a little sexual experience here, for what it’s worth.” They both sighed as he fingered her. She put her hand on the bulge in his pants and squeezed it gently; then she kissed him hard on the mouth, ignoring his bad beer breath. His left finger slid in and out of her rectum while his right finger rubbed against her G-spot, sometimes also tickling her hymen. “That you’re a virgin…makes you all the more…desirable.”

Squealing with pleasure from his touching, she got up, then suddenly orgasmed. Her whistle register almost deafened him, but her copious spewing astonished him.

*********************************

Camilla continued fingering herself, more frenetically now. She went back onto her back and raised her legs up so Jim’s camera eye could see her wet, pink vulva lips and brown eye. Her fingers were now quickly pumping deeply in and out of them, and her squeals and screams were getting higher and higher in the soprano range.

*********************************

“Yeah!” Jim growled as he continued choking his phallus. “Finger-fuck those holes! Go deep inside!” He was nearing ejaculation, but trying to delay it as best he could.

*********************************

Camilla’s anus-finger went in as far as it would go, while her index finger rubbed vigorously against her clitoris. She stuffed her long finger deep inside her soaking vagina to reach for her A-spot; it was difficult, but eventually she got there with a partial fisting of herself. She reached deep inside, curved her long finger around the corner and found it. Her soprano screams went higher and higher until they reached the whistle register, and her orgasm spouted like Old Faithful, then splashed all over her vulva and hands.

*********************************

“Incredible! Oh!” Jim ejaculated two seconds after she did, also spouting like a geyser all over the floor between his legs. “That girl and I have to be formally introduced.”

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