Lust For Luciano
It had been three weeks since my incredible session with the hottest bear I had ever encountered and I couldn’t get him out of my head.
For three weeks I had been celibate: it was longest time I had gone without sex in ages but I just couldn’t bring myself to look at anyone else, let alone think about making out with them. Luciano had promised to call but of course he hadn’t and I felt too vulnerable to make that call myself at first; when at last I did make the call I got a voice telling me that my call could not be connected. So every night I wanked myself crazy thinking about Luciano’s sexy eyes and that deep, husky voice of his and his juicy big thighs and firm, full butt. Every night he came to me, in my imagination, and overwhelmed me with his masculine presence and his charm and good looks before flipping me over onto my belly and drilling me deep until the cum just about flowed out of my ears.
So imagine my surprise when I was strolling along in a shopping mall and I saw the ass of my dreams lazily rolling about in a pair of faded denims. I would know that ass anywhere and I felt panicked. What the hell was I supposed to do, Go up to him and casually ask how he was or turn on my heels and make a swift exit? My head said leave but my heart said no. The sight of those beefy cheeks quickened my pulse like nothing in the whole wide world ever had before. Memories of his sweet kisses and gentle caresses flooded my brain. I could no more leave the mall that cut my arms off. I needed this big butted man back in my life so I had to take the chance and face rejection.
I quickly walked past him, shielded by other shoppers, and then pretended to be look in a shop window. As he drew close I quickly drank in the beauty of his handsome face and admired the way his big goose eggs had worn the fabric in the crotch of his jeans to the point where it looked like it might just give up the fight to stay intact. And then he saw me and his face just lit up. I had never seen anything like it and I felt absolutely elated.
‘Dan, Dan!’ he cried. ‘Is you, no?’
‘Yes Luciano, it’s me.’ I stupidly replied and he pumped my hand in his beefy paw.
‘My phone is lost.’ He said. ‘I don’t got your number.’
‘So that’s why you didn’t call.’ I said.
‘Why you didn’t call me, huh?’ he demanded.
‘I tried,’ I told him ‘but I couldn’t get through. Maybe I took the number down wrong.’
‘You show me this number.’ He said.
I had to fight back my laughter. There was something about the way he spoke that just got to me. I felt like I was being chastised, but I’m sure he didn’t mean it. I took out my cell phone and showed him the number I had stored there.
‘Aah,’ he said ‘is missing the seven.’
He took out his cell phone and took my number down again. I was pleased to see that it wasn’t the same one that he had had last time so it wasn’t just some lame excuse not to call me. When we got done taking down numbers, and double checking them, there was a moment of awkward silence between us. Was this all a big act, I wondered. Did he really want to see me again or was he trying to let me down gently. Suddenly Luciano leaned in close and whispered in my ear.
‘Do you want to fuck?’ the magic words, that only I alone could hear, rushed straight into my brain and hungry cock.
I smiled and told him that I did. I asked him to lead the way out of the mall because I wanted to check out his big, beautiful bum and he chuckled and did exactly as I asked. I noticed that he had his bunched fists pushed into his pockets which drew the fabric even tighter around the pleasure mound. I thought of all the tiny asses I had known in my time and realized that I would never again stray from the beefier side of town. There was just so much visual pleasure to be had from Lucian’s ass before I even got my hands on it. I had to put my own hands in my pockets to hide the stirring beast that lurked down in the cotton cage of my underpants. How it longed to be out in the fresh air and feeling the sexy bear’s hands and mouth working its shaft. I could almost see the headlines in the newspaper if I gave in to the base thoughts that jangled through my brain: man arrested for fucking in a car park.
My hands trembled as I inserted the key into my front door. My knees were like jelly as I opened it, let us in, and shut the door on the world. Luciano picked me up in his massive arms just then and kissed me and I clung to him like my life depended on it. He carried me through the house to the bedroom where he lay me down on the bed and just about ripped my clothes of me. As soon as I was naked my hard cock disappeared into his warm mouth and I reached down and held his large head in my hands while he nursed on my cock. It had been too long and I’m ashamed to say that my cock exploded within five minutes, blasting fountains of my joy juice down his throat.
‘I’m sorry, Luciano.’ I said as he came off me licking his lips.
‘Nothing to be sorry for.’ He said. ‘All these three weeks I am thinking of drinking your juice.’
He lay down on the bed, fully clothed and held me in his arms while we talked. And all the time he talked he stroked my arm. I had never felt so loved in all my life. What was it about this big dude that got under my skin? Although I was still horny I felt peaceful enough to just lie there and enjoy his caresses.
In time those caresses grew ever more ardent. My hungry bear was unfulfilled and feeling the power of his lust through his warm hands and horny tongue was starting to get me ready for round number two. I let him know this by reaching back and grabbing his thick cock through his jeans. He got up off the bed and asked me to put some music on. I quickly turned on my bedside radio and was amazed as Luciano began the most sensual strip I have ever seen performed. His eyes sparkled and those cherry red lips looked so inviting. My eyes were out on stalks and my throbbing cock leaked a river of precum as I watched him slowly reveal his multi colored rug of chest fur. My mouth ached for those juicy nipples that he had teased into erection. In a lust fuelled daze I watched his hands slide down his belly and undo his fly buttons; he now turned around and wiggled his fat ass at me and I had to restrain myself from prematurely ending his sexy strip.
I sat on the edge of the bed and stroked my cock the way it demanded me to. He tuned around to face me and smiled at me now as he slowly slid his jeans down his big, furry thighs. They slid down to his ankles and he stepped out of them and he was now clad in just his socks and underpants. His big thick cock peeked out of the waistband of his undies, trapped against the dark fur that grew there. It was a rosy red color and so fat and juicy I almost had to sit on my hands. He danced up to me and pressing his large right hand behind my head ground my face against his full and furry crotch. I caught a whiff of the stinky cheese that had zapped its way through my taboo barrier and straight into my brain last time. My hands instinctively reached for his warm thighs so that I could steady myself as I nuzzled his crotch but he had other plans. With surprising speed he turned around and pressed my face into his beefy butt crack and I inhaled his intoxicated musk. I was so far gone I just had to have this man now. In my eagerness to get him undressed I ripped his underpants to shreds and buried my face in his deep, masculine crack as my hands stroked up his thighs and searched out his big, fuzzy nuts.
Luciano groaned and bellowed like a love-sick bison as I ate out his hot hole. He held his massive cheeks apart for me as I tongue dived into his love chute. His was begging me to fuck him but I had other plans. My hands teased his massive balls before sliding on up to his leaking, overheated cock. I relished his sigh as I spread his cooling gel over his flared cockhead. I knew the little guy needed a home and I was just the man to give it to him. I asked Luciano to lie down while I quickly lubed my asshole. Then I kneeled over my big bear and once more just gazed in lust and total awe at this mountain of a man with the big heart. He smiled at me and I could feel all reserve melting away. I wanted him completely; I wanted – and needed — to be taken by him and used for his pleasure. But first I wanted to please him a little more. I kissed his brow and then down his face, soft little nibbly kisses that he appreciated. He turned those juicy lips toward me and my tongue plunged into his mouth and writhed pythonesquely against his horny tongue. I felt his hand reach down and squeeze my little bubble butt but I was not quite ready to give it to him.
I broke free of Luciano’s kiss and licked down his neck before pushing his arms above his head and licking his luscious pits. He writhed and cooed as I licked his salt and sweat and I could tell my poor beefy bear was almost close to the limit of his endurance; I could feel his hard, thick, slippery cock prodding me in the belly. I licked down onto his nipples and teased each one in turn. Next I kissed down to his belly button and let my tongue slither deep inside it before traveling lower still. I could feel his anxious fingers digging into my shoulders as I nibbled the creamy pale, silky smooth place where his left leg met his torso. His big balls rolled around in their sack as he waited for me to move a little higher and take his hungry cock into my mouth. I quickly peeled back his foreskin and rubbed the pungent cheese off the underside of his cock ridge. I sniffed my fingers and drove myself crazy over the horny scent as I moved back over his prone body and impaled myself on his fat cock.
We both gasped: me because of a twinge of pain as his fuck flesh slid all the way home and Luciano because at last I had given him the release he so desperately desired. His big hands grabbed hold of my slender hips as he started thrusting into me. His forehead and eyebrows were knitted in concentration and I wished I had a camera just then to capture that horny look on his handsome face. He fucked me slowly and steadily and my protesting ass soon relaxed and adjusted to his girth. Now it was my turn to ride the wave; I could feel pleasure emanating from somewhere deep inside me and spreading out to every single cell and nerve in my body. I was being taken by the man that had tortured my brain with longing these past three weeks. I had given up hope of ever seeing him again and yet here he was deep inside me, slowly fucking me and mumbling things in Italian that I couldn’t understand but that I guessed were in appreciation of the tight, warm vice-like grip that I held him in now. My big, soft cock flopped against his belly; I was in no hurry to do anything with it as this was all about Luciano.
I braced myself against his strong, hairy arms as I snuggled down deeper onto his fat hog so that his pubes were now mashed up against my ass. I wanted this moment, and this intense pleasure, to last forever. On and on he fucked, with so much tenderness and yet so incredibly passionately; it was as if this man had been born to fuck. I felt something akin to love as I looked down at his handsome face all screwed up in concentration and lust. His magic stroking soon had my cock back on the bone and he reached for it now and began to gently milk it in his beefy paw. I looked down at the fur on his fingers and felt incredibly turned on by seeing my cock massaged by that massive, bear paw. It was as if I was stroking my own cock; he seemed to know exactly what to do to turn me on. He alternated concentrating on my inflamed cockhead with jerking just the base of my cock and he was starting to drive me crazy. My ass took on a life of its own as it gripped Luciano’s cock tight as I started to ride his throbber. His bass groaned rumbled through the quite of my room as he felt my asshole grip his cock so insistently.
We were locked in lust: him thrusting and me ridding and both of us groaning. I could feel the soles of my feet start to tingle and I knew I was done for. I started bucking against Luciano’s stiff prick and begging him to give me his jizz. His hand flew faster and faster over my over stimulated dick and suddenly it all became too much. I think I must have blacked out for a second or two and when I regained my senses I saw a massive rope of thick cum spray out of my cock and land on Luciano’s chest. It was followed by a second and third jet of spunk that landed in the dense fur of his belly. And then I felt myself being pushed higher into the air as Luciano strove to get every last bit of his cock deep inside my ass. He whimpered as orgasm washed over him and he blasted a geyser load of hot spunk up into my satisfied chute. I collapsed on his broad, furry chest and lay panting as he wrapped his arms around me as I savored the feel of his deflating cock slide slowly out of my well used hole.
He kissed my nose and smiled and I knew then that my lust for Luciano had turned into love.
Katie’s Muscle Journey
Chapter 1: Katie and Ryoko
As I enter the apartment I share with my boyfriend Jim, I pause for a while at the door. I notice that the door is ajar, and Jim’s shoes are outside. He must be home early from the gym. There’re some muffled sounds that I can hear even from the hallway.
“Jim?” I called out. “I’m back, honey. Are you there?”
There is no reply. I walk into the living room, and I see something I never thought I would see. Jim is sitting on the couch, with his pants down. What I am looking straight at now, though, is the woman standing in front of him.
She has short hair and is topless, wearing only a pair of jeans, and she is muscular. Not like a bodybuilder, or even the ripped physique of a fitness competitor, but extremely strong-looking. Her muscles are shapely and make her very curvy in a feminine way, but her back is ridged with impressive muscle development, as are her abs, which are six solid-looking sections. She is still relatively narrow-waisted. Her deltoids, which are flexed right now because she is holding up her arms in a double-bicep pose, are round lumps of solid flesh. Her bicep peaks can be seen from behind, like small tennis balls. In short, she is almost the perfect woman, even though her thighs cannot be seen.
She turns around and sees me, and gives me an arrogant smile. I take a few steps towards them, not knowing how to react.
She says to Jim, “So this is your girlfriend Katie? Hmm. She doesn’t look as strong as in that picture you have of her.”
The woman gestures towards something Jim is holding in his hand. I ignore his guilty expression, and look more closely. It looks like a photograph. Then I recognize it, when Jim sheepishly holds it up for me to see.
It is a photograph of the two of us, about five years ago, when I was 20. In the picture I’m doing a bicep flex while putting an arm around Jim’s shoulders. I’m wearing a sports bra. At that time I had just won an arm wrestling tournament, defeating a total of six other women. In the picture we both look proud and happy, and my arm looks nice and strong.
But since then I have not been to the gym as much, as I’ve become busier with a new job. I’ve lost quite a bit of weight since that time, and I look leaner now but also flabbier, not as toned as before. For a while Jim kept assuring me that he didn’t mind, and our sex still seemed just as good. But now… I can hardly believe what this looks like. “Jim,” I ask softly, “can you explain what this woman is doing here?”
But instead of Jim replying, the response comes from the woman, who walks slowly up to me and stands offensively close.
“My name is Ryoko,” she states. “Jim and I have been meeting each other at the gym for a few weeks now. Today, I decided to get to know him a little better, if you know what I mean. However, he seems very loyal to you, for some reason.”
Jim is pulling up his pants hurriedly as Ryoko speaks, and at this he looks up at me and nods eagerly, saying, “I didn’t want any of this, Katie!”
“That’s not what your erection is saying!” Ryoko smirks. She looks back at me and continues, “So, I decided to show him directly, why I am the better woman. I asked him to show me the best picture he had of you, and then I showed him my body and asked him to say who the better woman is. Well, I must admit I was impressed by your photograph. But it seems you aren’t as hot as you used to be.”
Slowly she raises her arms and flexes in front of me, staring at me challengingly. She is still wearing her heels — which is why I didn’t see them outside the door earlier. In them, she is able to look down on me with a few inches’ height advantage. Barefoot she is probably the same height as me, almost. Now it just adds to the overall effect she is having on me.
I take a deep breath to calm myself. Not only am I upset at this woman just coming in to cause trouble and go after my boyfriend as aggressively as this, I am also feeling a bit intimidated. As Ryoko flexes in front of me, her muscles moving seductively underneath her skin, I can see immediately that she is much sexier than I am now, and looks a lot stronger — in fact, even five years ago I may not have been a match for her.
Still, I cannot back down from this challenge. I step back and strip off my tank top quickly, and unhook my bra to stand topless too in my jeans. As Jim gapes in amazement, I step up to Ryoko until our nipples are almost touching, and throw my own arms up in the most powerful flex I can manage!
We hold the posedown for a few seconds, and then Ryoko laughs. I still have some lean muscles on my body, but it is a far cry both from what I used to look like, and what Ryoko looks like now. I lower my arms and hang my head. Without a doubt I have been crushed in this posedown.
Ryoko walks over to the slack-jawed Jim, who is now breathing more quickly at the sight he has just seen. She takes the photograph from his unresisting hand. Turning back to me, she holds it up for me to see, and then slowly tears it straight down the middle, separating the sections containing Jim and myself.
Her message is clear. I glare at her, fists clenched. She smirks and glares back, then points to the coffee table. I give a quick nod to accept her unspoken challenge.
No words are needed. We both step slowly to the coffee table, still holding each other’s gaze. I go down on one knee, on one side of the table, and she copies my pose. The coffee table is small and circular, so we end up using our right knees to brace it between us. Still with slow deliberate movements we raise our right arms and plant them on the table, and hook our thumbs, preparing to arm wrestle.
Still not saying a word, Ryoko raises her left hand and crooks a finger at Jim, to come over. He does, looking at the both of us in awe, obviously trying to drink in as much of this sight as possible. Then Ryoko speaks again.
“Jim will be the referee for this contest between us. The winner will give him a blowjob. During the match, he can choose to motivate us by letting whichever of us pleasure him with our hand, mouth, or any other part of the body. Now, get ready to be shamed in front of him!”
“The relationship we share will give me the strength to beat you in front of him and make sure you never come after him again!” I reply firmly, clenching her hand as hard as I can. I will not lose to a bitch like her!
Jim holds our hands and makes sure our starting position is equal, and then releases his hands to let us begin. We both lean forward and start pulling. My bicep bulges nice and round, and I feel encouraged even though it is obvious her muscles are bigger. So far I am keeping her even.
Then I look up into her eyes, and my heart sinks as I realize she is feeling much more relaxed than me, barely straining compared to me. She may be just toying with me. I press my lips together grimly, not letting her see my anxiety, and concentrate on just pulling as hard as I can, increasing my force until I am nearly using my full power. But she is matching me strength for strength. Our hands begin to tremble in the middle between us with the sheer force of our battle. I can see her starting to strain a little bit, but she still has that small mocking smile that I would dearly love to wipe off.
Meanwhile Jim has taken off his pants completely, and is starting to masturbate. He moves closer to us, and seems to hesitate for a moment.
“Choose me, choose me…” I urge him in my thoughts.
Yes! He’s moving towards me. Now he’s rubbing his cock against my shoulder and upper arm. I am even more heartened when I see the frustration enter Ryoko’s eyes. It feels so good against my sweaty skin… My arm begins to feel stronger, and with a loud grunt, I manage to gain on her a little bit, the first progress either of us has made in this match!
But she manages to counter my effort, and hold me only at a slight advantage. Looking up at Jim, she smiles in a sultry way and says, “Are you sure you won’t rather have this instead, Jim?” pointing to her larger and more defined arm muscles, now put on full display because of the angle. “You know you want it… come on, put it right here… come and find out how a really strong arm feels like…”
I can’t believe it, Jim is actually falling for that! He’s moved his cock away and is now pointing it at Ryoko… I can’t stand it, she’s smirking at me! I pour more strength into my arm and pull as hard as I can, but I make only a little bit more headway. This actually makes her showcase her bicep even more, and she angles her body to the side so that Jim has space to move in… and put his penis against the round, solid lump of muscle, beaded with sweat… it even has a vein showing slightly near the elbow…
I pull with all my might, but somehow I can’t give it my all. My spirit is being sapped by the sight before me, my boyfriend’s cock just inches away from me, so near yet so far. It’s as if he is giving strength to Ryoko instead of me, and widening the disparity between Ryoko and me. Because it’s true, I can feel it: Ryoko is definitely stronger than I am.
Ryoko’s face is rubbing against Jim’s stomach, and she moans and rubs her cheek against him, seeming to enjoy herself very much, as if she were not arm wrestling with me at all. She says, “Jim, move back. I’m going to beat your girlfriend now, and I need space.”
He complies. I brace myself for the effort that I can feel is gathering behind Ryoko’s hand. She takes a deep breath, and looks me straight in the eye as she begins to ramp up her effort. I look back, trying to keep my expression neutral, but my trembling arm gives away the fact that slowly she is overpowering me. The crushing force of her grip is starting to actually hurt my hand, and easily she pulls me back to the centre, losing me all the ground I gained. We stare at each other as the match continues, beads of sweat pooling visibly on our faces. I can feel the sweat drops on top of my upper lip, and also starting to run in rivulets down my chest.
Slowly, with excruciating slowness as if she is purposely prolonging it, Ryoko pulls my arm down steadily until I am more than halfway down. It’s only in movies that people can make a huge comeback from this situation. Maybe sometimes in real life but the person has to be extremely strong. As I am now, I simply cannot manage it against her.
Yet, with Jim watching, I cannot afford to give up. I refuse to give up, and I keep straining with all my might, trying to pull back up again. Jim approaches, holding his cock. I turn to him and open my mouth hungrily, but it is to Ryoko that he turns. Ryoko obligingly opens her mouth, and right in front of my eyes, Jim inserts his throbbing dick into her face, moving it in and out.
I give a sob, heartbroken. I cannot believe I am being so humiliated right now. Crying out, I give a jerk on Ryoko’s arm and try to use my body weight for leverage, but Ryoko simply holds me out and rides out my surge for the few seconds it lasts. Now my hand is mere inches away from the tabletop.
I call out, “Jim, please, give it to me… put it here, on my bicep… I will squeeze it hard as I pull up… please Jim, honey… I can do it… I can do it…”
Jim hesitates, and as I look up I see the conflicted look on his face. Then he pulls his cock out from Ryoko’s mouth, and she looks disappointed. I feel some hope again as he bends down and fits his cock snugly in the crook of my arm. I take a deep breath and flex my bicep as hard as I can, letting the full strain show on my face, not bothering to hide it. Ryoko snarls and says, “I will not let you do that, little Katie. Jim, she’s just going to disappoint you. I’ll show you!”
The seconds tick pass as Jim waits patiently, giving me a chance to prove myself. I am flexing with all my might, my vision blurs as my eyes are screwed almost shut, my muscles are burning with effort as I flex as hard as I’ve ever flexed. I keep my eyes fixed on Jim’s penis, nestled between my forearm and my bicep, and I want so much to curl my arm up around it, and let him feel the strength of my bicep directly on his cock…
I’m not sure but I think almost half a minute has passed. Ryoko has kept my arm down, and not let me move up even a little bit. Both our arms are trembling with effort, but my arm is burning with fatigue. This match has already lasted a few intense minutes. I’m so out of practice, and out of shape, I’m clearly not used to this level of exertion anymore. My arm fails to flex enough to squeeze Jim’s cock even a little. In fact she even pulls my arm down slightly, just a little bit.
Jim sighs and straightens up again, and my heart aches again. Why must I lose this way?
He goes over and runs his hands all over Ryoko’s muscular rippling body, now lubricated with sweat. Ryoko moans, especially when his hands run over her nipples. He begins to fondle her nipples. She shudders with pleasure all over, and I feel her strength flag slightly, but by now I am too tired to take any advantage of it. I am already barely holding on, with the last bits of my strength. My arm is really starting to hurt.
But Ryoko refuses to let me go. She pulls me down to within just an inch of defeat, and there she holds me, content to let me strain and strain, knowing that I will not give up until I really can give no more. She’s right. It’s hopeless, but I simply will not give up, despite the tears of pain running down my cheeks, despite the terrible growing pain in my arm and shoulder. I think I am crying because of the shame as well, it’s hard to tell.
When she is sure I am completely spent, and holding on only by sheer willpower, she grabs Jim’s cock with her left hand, and says, “Now, you are finished.”
With that she slams my hand down on the table, and pulls Jim’s cock towards her. A few quick thrusts inside her mouth is all it needs, Jim must have been holding it in for all this time. She’s not letting go of my hand. I am forced to watch helplessly while across the table this woman gives my boyfriend a victory blowjob.
As Jim staggers back, gasping and groaning, Ryoko turns back to me and parts her lips slightly, letting some of the cum drip out of the corners of her mouth. She plants her left palm behind my head and shoves my face forward to meet hers, and she forces me into a kiss. Her mouth forces my lips open, she invades my mouth with her tongue, and I can taste the salty familiar tang of Jim’s cum, but now mixed with the taste of Ryoko’s saliva. She forces me to taste this horrible combination for several long moments, before letting me go. I am gasping for air, breathless from the exertion and also from the kiss. She’s breathing hard too, but there is the flush of pleasure in her eyes. I slump, rubbing my sore right arm, tears of shame in my eyes. She has outmuscled me in front of Jim, and shamed me with her cum-covered kiss.
As she poses proudly for Jim, her muscular arms raised in victory, I open my mouth to speak.
“I’ll wrestle you.”
Ryoko’s eyes gleam, and she answers at once, “Yes, let’s. I look forward to crushing you totally. You will feel my mastery over you with your whole body. Then, after I beat you, I will make you cum, so that you know you’re just my slut, and you love losing to me. To top it off, your Jim will fuck me from behind while I’m on top of you, so that you know you have lost completely, as a woman.”
Jim looks guilty, but doesn’t say anything. I can tell that he likes what is happening, even if he feels guilty about what is happening to me. But this is not about him. I do not feel that much pain from the fact that he has effectively betrayed me. He cannot help being sexually turned on by all this. He’s just a weak male, unable to resist a woman like Ryoko who is everything he’s always wanted. I guess I used to be that woman too.
That’s why I am going to accept now. This is about Ryoko and me. Woman to woman. Muscle against muscle, will against will. If I cannot defeat Ryoko, then I do not deserve Jim in the first place.
We stand up, and we strip off our jeans, Ryoko kicks off her heels as well. She’s wearing a pair of thongs, which she unhesitatingly strips off too. I match her by stripping off my panties, so we’re both completely naked. Now I have the chance to see her legs. They’re sleek and well-muscles, like dancer’s legs. My legs are less muscular now, and look a bit fatter and less defined. I still have a nice calf bulge, but so does she. We move forward to compare legs, and we parade them in front of Jim.
“Come on, Jim darling, tell us, who has the better sexier legs?” Ryoko says.
“Um…” Jim looks clearly uncomfortable, but in the end avoids my pleading look and mumbles, “You, Ryoko.”
“That’s right, and you’ll get your reward after I beat this weak girl and become your new girlfriend. You’re looking forward to that, aren’t you?” Ryoko says, reaching over to tilt his face with her hand. I reach up and slap her hand away angrily. We both glare at each other, and bump chests.
“Titfight,” she says, and that is all the signal we need — we put our hands behind our backs, to throw our breasts out, and begin bumping and crashing them together, sometimes swiping from side to side. I used to be proud of my perfectly shaped breasts, but they’ve grown smaller over the years and less firm. Ryoko’s are larger and firmer. Within a several exchanges I am gasping with pain from the friction on my sensitive nipples, and on the impact from each breast bump she is dealing me. We bump harder and harder, and she is grunting with the effort, but she doesn’t seem as hurt as me. Some minutes have passed, I don’t know how long, but I finally have to step back, avoiding her breast attack, my chest heaving as I gulp for air and my hands coming up to cover my sore nipples and breasts. I’ve lost this one too… it’s so embarrassing…
“You’re not woman enough for me!” Ryoko screams, thrusting her arms up again in victory. Jim moans and begins rubbing himself. The sight of our struggle is apparently the sexiest thing he’s seen in a long time, because despite his refractory period he’s getting hard again.
My heart fills with rage towards this woman. Giving vent to a scream of anger, I step forward, raising my arms too. Our hands make contact, and we eager clasp fingers, gripping each other’s hands hard. Our arms and bodies begin to tremble as we engage in a test of strength.
We press our foreheads together as we push, channelling all our strength into this contest. Her full power is incredible… My arms are really feeling the strain, especially my tired right arm. Oh no… it buckles. My right arm was just too tired. She’s not showing me any mercy, she’s surging forward full force… my body is now bent awkwardly, my right arm unable to match the strength of her left and unable to straighten. She’s pushing it out and to the side, so I can’t use it fully now.
My left arm is not so good at muscular power, but more for endurance. Now it’s being tested to the limit. Her right arm is a bit tired too, I wonder if I can turn the tables on her. I have to… Jim is watching us wrestle… I must show my strength to him.
We are frozen in position for what seems like long minutes, with me putting all of my remaining energy and strength into this contest, resisting Ryoko with all my might. Every muscle on our body must be sharply defined to the watching Jim, but I cannot spare much attention to look, I can only catch glimpses of the muscles standing out on the body parts I can see. Ryoko’s right arm is like a pillar of strength. My left arm is starting to shake. I will myself to ignore the pain in both my arms, and concentrate on pushing. It is no use. I can feel myself weakening, my strength draining away. Ryoko is overpowering me slowly but surely. My left arm has just given way, and it’s slowly and shakily being forced downwards too. Now Ryoko is leaning forward and pressing her chest against mine, bending me backwards. I bend back as far as I can, but I’m not very flexible. Soon I cannot help my knees buckling, and I start to sink down before her.
I’m now down to one knee, her hands are holding mine down, it’s hopeless, she’s too strong for me. She kicks at my upright leg until I am forced to go down on that knee as well. Now she’s clearly in a position of dominance over me. She leans over, and pushes hard. My wrists are being bent, they hurt! It’s so painful…!
She is telling me to submit. Never! I must not… not in front of Jim like this, and not to her!
“No!” I say through gritted teeth.
“You have no choice!” she grates out, and jerks downwards, letting me feel her crushing force. I scream once in pain, and my hands are pressed all the way down to my shoulder level. She’s now bent over almost double, her face near mine.
“N… No!” I gasp out, tears starting to flow out of my eyes.
She invades my mouth with a kiss again. I try to bite her, but she growls and bites back, causing me more pain than I can cause her, so that I try to break off the agonizing kiss, shaking my head side to side. But I cannot shake her, and she completely violates my mouth before raising her head and suddenly twisting to the side, catching me in a headlock.
Quickly her weight forces me down onto the floor, and I can’t break out of this headlock. She’s squeezing so hard with her left arm, I can feel all the hard muscles all along it. I feel as if I’m blacking out, she’s cutting off my air supply…
I must have blacked out for an instant, because now she’s released the headlock and has me pinned to the floor. She’s locked her hands with mine again, and is pressing them on the floor. I thrash around with my legs, but very quickly she locks her legs around mine in a grapevine. She is not only strong, but also an expert wrestler it seems. I’m completely outmatched.
She has me pinned helplessly. As her legs stretch mine, I grit my teeth, determined not to cry out in pain. The effort makes sweat break out all over my face. My suffering is plain for her and Jim to see as my mouth opens in a soundless scream, and I shake all over underneath her, but still I am not screaming or crying out. The pain is building and building…
“Count, Jim!” I hear her say. Opening my eyes, I look straight into her face, as Jim begins to count to ten. The pain cripples my efforts to try and power my shoulders off the floor, but even if she had not slapped on the grapevine, I think I would still be too weak compared to her to do it. I think she knows it too, she is grinning down at me as Jim finishes a slow count to ten. I have not been able to lift my hands or shoulders even a little bit off the floor.
“I have beaten you at wrestling,” she states. I cannot deny it. “Now I will make your defeat final. I will make you cum.”
She releases the grapevine and shifts herself so that our mounds are touching, and she angles her pelvis so that our clits make contact. Her legs twine around mine silkily as she starts to hump me, clitoris against clitoris, sex against sex. I close my eyes and try to resist, willing myself not to cum, but the stimulation and the struggle have made me very wet. My body is betraying me. Ryoko is wet too, she must be feeling so turned on at dominating me so completely, and yet I am unable to make her cum first. I look away and close my eyes as my body shudders its surrender under her, the spasms of unwanted pleasure making my body jerk back and forth like a marionette under her control.
She rises up onto her knees, still on top of me, and slowly flexes her arms, clearly savouring the moment. I am helpless underneath her. My spirit has been broken.
Ryoko lowers herself over me again, on all fours. Looking into my eyes, she says, “Submit.”
I bite my lip, and close my eyes. I feel a stinging pain. She’s slapped me. “Submit.”
“I submit.” I have lost. I feel it now. I have admitted defeat inside myself.
“Who’s the better woman?”
“You are the better woman.”
“Tell Jim who is the stronger, sexier and superior woman here.”
“Ryoko is the stronger, sexier and superior woman.” I am really crying now, but my voice comes out as steadily as I can make it.
Ryoko groans as Jim takes her doggy-style, grabbing her breasts and fiddling with her nipples as he urgently penetrates her with his shaft. Throughout the whole session, she and I never break our stare, except when I blink the tears away and when she blinks sweat out of her eyes. When Jim finally reaches a long shuddering orgasm inside Ryoko and collapses to the side, it’s as if he doesn’t exist to us, that the fact of sex with him serves only to cement Ryoko’s victory over me. Ryoko whispers to me now, still not looking away, “You will want a rematch.”
“Yes… I want a rematch.”
“You can have one only when you are strong enough to challenge me. Because the next time you lose to me again, you will lose forever. I will keep Jim. More importantly, you and I will both know, once and for all, that I will always be the better woman. Do you understand?”
“Yes, I understand.”
“I will let you challenge me again. But you will not win. I will train too, in the meantime, and stay ahead of you.”
“I’ll train harder than you, and become stronger than you.”
“You can dream on. In the meantime, your Jim is mine.”
With that, she slides off me, and carries Jim in her arms easily, struggling only a little bit. Looking down at me one last time, she walks off with my boyfriend into the bedroom, to fuck his brains out even more, while I am left to slowly recover from my utter humiliation and complete defeat.
Telling Mandy “No!”
When sixteen year old Mandy wants to go to Paris with her girlfriends, her father has to tell her “No!” She’s too young. But how to make her understand what all the men in France would want to do to her? Maybe she’d understand if he showed her…
Author’s Note: I got the idea for this story from one I read somewhere by another author. I don’t remember the name of the story, or who wrote it, or even where it was posted. If it seems familiar, that’s probably why. My intent is not to plagiarize, but I wanted to tell the story in a different way than it was originally written.
Bob didn’t know exactly when he began to look at Mandy and see a woman, rather than his little girl. It happened slowly, over a period of time, kind of like when you lose a pound or two a week and three or four months (and thirty pounds) later somebody says “You lost some weight lately?”
Mandy was still a little girl when her mother just didn’t come home one night. Hours later he was frantic, of course. Any husband would be.
He did all the normal things. He called their friends, (“Bob, do you have ANY idea of what time it is?”) and then called the Police. And they were, as are most public servants, bureaucratic in the extreme.
“I’m sorry Mr. Templeton, we really can’t take a missing persons report until someone’s been gone at least twenty-four hours. If you still haven’t heard from her tomorrow night, give us a call.”
He had all the normal visions of her lying in her mangled car, dying, calling out for him.
The Police called the next day, wanting Bob to come pick up his car from where she’d abandoned it. There was a note in the car, which, of course, they’d read … and probably chuckled over (Can you believe it, the guy thought she was a missing person!”).
It was short and to the point. “Bob, I’ve left you. Don’t try to find me.”
Turned out that a guy she worked with went “missing” the same day. Everybody knew about their relationship except him. And Mandy, of course.
Anyway, Mandy was ten at the time, and being abandoned by her mother was a blow he was afraid she might never get over. He spent a lot more time with her after that, and not just because he had to be both mother and father. They needed each other. A psychologist might have said they were doing the normal thing, trying to give each other the love they were missing from the woman they thought had loved them. It’s complicated when somebody just walks out of your life.
But, in a few years, they had adapted to the point that, if she had come back, they would have probably told her to sit on a parking meter and spin. They didn’t need her any more. She was a little like the old family dog that bit the kids … and then died. They missed her, in a purely historical way, but weren’t all that sad that she was gone.
When you’re a single man there are lots of things about raising a girl that make life interesting. You have to deal with all her “girly” needs, but you have to be a big, tough guy too. I don’t think it works that way for a single woman. Nobody expects her to be a man, or do man things. She may do those things, but nobody EXPECTS her to. A single dad, on the other hand, is expected to be sensitive to his daughter’s feminine needs, and “be there for her,” (whatever the fuck that means.)
And think about it. I mean think about a single mom raising a son. What does she have to teach him? How and why to wear a jock strap? Probably not. The gym teacher will cover that. What kind of underwear to get? No way. She buys him what she thinks he needs and he gets it for Christmas. She doesn’t teach him how to sit on a couch while he’s wearing a skirt, because he doesn’t wear a skirt and nobody cares how he sits on a couch or crosses his legs. She doesn’t have to teach him how to wear a pad, or insert a tampon. She doesn’t have to teach him to be cognizant of when he’s fertile. If anything, all she has to teach him is to keep it in his pants unless he’s ready to marry the girl. She doesn’t have to teach him what to do if he gets horny. Since ALL boys are horny, and everyone EXPECTS them to be horny, all she has to do is teach him to wash his little penis really well when he’s young and everything else will take care of itself years later … while he’s washing his no-longer-little penis.
But a single dad, raising a beautiful young girl. Now THERE’S a situation that is absolutely packed with the potential for disaster. He has to teach her everything her mother would teach her. How to fit a bra, what kind of feminine hygiene products to get and why, tampons versus pads, Midol, or the myriad of other products that handle that problem, how to walk, how NOT to walk, what to do if you feel this way or that way, how to apply makeup, PMS, why everyone else has breasts except her or, conversely, why her breasts are so huge and everyone else hardly has any … the list can go on and on.
So, when you find out what happened between Mandy and her father, and you think back on how many times I used the word “normal” in the telling, I want you to think about raising a girl all by yourself. Then you can decide whether what happened was “normal” or not.
As I said, he didn’t know exactly when he noticed it, but at some point he looked at Mandy and thought “woman”.
He knew it wasn’t when Janet first left them. Mandy was only ten and, after the shock of it wore off, she exploded into becoming “little miss domestic goddess”, taking on the duties of laundry, and house cleaning, and even cooking, though he was a far better cook. It was like she was trying to make up for the fact that the woman of the house was gone. But after a while that evened out and they shared the work pretty much equally, and with pretty good communication.
And it wasn’t when she was almost twelve and had her first period. He had warned her about that in a six week long educational process about her body that was so drawn out and dry that there was no sex left in it, even though what they were talking about was, in one sense, pure sex.
I mean what are periods for, except to remind a young woman that she has failed? Her womb is empty, and all that nourishing blood is now going to waste. The system designed specifically to bear a child and propagate the species did not fulfill it’s destiny, and all that blood and pain is a clear and present reminder to the young woman to find a man and get it right before next month gets there.
Of course that’s not exactly how he explained things to her. The point is that, at the time he was explaining what made her a woman, she didn’t either look or act like a woman.
It probably wasn’t even when she was thirteen and started growing breasts that ended up being nice double handfuls. He avoided the how-to-fit-a-bra problem by the simple expedient of telling her she didn’t have to wear one. She got all upset because she thought wearing a bra would be such a rite of passage, so he took her to the store and looked at tools while she pretended to know what she was looking for. And, of course, she bought a lacy sexy thing that didn’t fit and hurt, and it ended up in the back of the closet and she never asked to wear one again.
They did a lot of things together. They shopped at the grocery store together, planning menus as they went down the aisles. He took her to ball games. She dragged him to the skating rink. They liked the same kinds of movies, and could spend hours at the library together.
When he told me about all this, he finally remembered one incident that I think might be the prime contender for when he began to have sexual thoughts about his daughter.
They had been outside raking leaves and pulling weeds and splitting firewood to get ready for winter. It was still hot out and they were both hot and sweaty when they went inside. She went and took a shower, and, about the time he was going toward the kitchen to get something to drink, she came out of the bathroom drying her hair with a towel. She was naked as usual. Neither of them wore much around the house, and never had. They were both hot blooded, meaning they had a fan going most of the time and almost never got chilled.
He noticed that her breasts were full, and that her nipples had developed to the point that she had both areolas and nipples. She had a cute little patch of auburn hair on her mound. Her hips had widened, and her legs looked longer than he’d remembered them for some reason.
His cock was half hard before he even realized it. She breezed past him with a “Hi Daddy” and he realized she smelled really good. Yes, as he thought about it later, that was the time he began to be aware of his daughter as a woman.
She was every bit of fifteen that summer.
After that, as he sat, reading in the living room, he’d look over at her, doing her homework or whatever. She liked to wear his old T shirts, but she always cut the sleeves off, taking more of the side than just the sleeve. In other words, you could see through the large arm hole. If she bent over, her lovely tits were there for all the world to see. Along with those T shirts she favored gym shorts. She had her favorites, which were from her three years as a cheerleader at her Junior High School. Naturally, they were mostly three or four years old, and who knows how many sizes too small. They fit her like a second skin and made a very visible and identifiable camel toe in her crotch.
They had also let her hair grow since her mother left. That was probably because her mother had cut her hair, rather than taking her to the beauty parlor. At any rate, five years growth of her hair had resulted in a thick mane of brown with red and blond highlights that flowed down her back like a cape. She had a button nose, and high cheekbones. As he looked at her he thought about what a sixteen or seventeen year old boy would think … and he knew he was in trouble.
Mandy and her father had never talked about dating, because they spent so much time together that she had little time to date. That changed the school year following when he noticed he was living with a stone fox sex goddess. She had given up on the cheerleader thing, not liking the political popularity contest that went with it but, ironically, she was still quite popular. She learned makeup from her girlfriends at sleepovers, and heard about dates there too. Then one night she asked if she could go to a movie with a boy.
Now, Bob thought he was a pretty savvy Dad. He knew that the best way to get her to do something was to forbid her from doing it. And, conversely, the best way to get her NOT to do something, was to be excited about it, and to display a great desire to “help” with whatever it was.
“I think that would be GREAT!” he bubbled. “In fact I’d be happy to take you guys to the movie and then pick you up.” he offered helpfully. It didn’t work out quite like he’d expected.
“That’s OK” she said sweetly. “It’s close enough we’re just going to walk.”
He went on reading the paper and peeked at her. She looked all happy.
She was actually home by eight-thirty. Things had not gone all that well. The boy wouldn’t talk. He was nervous and not very good company. Bob was thrilled to the core when she closed the door and plopped down on the couch and said, “This dating stuff isn’t nearly as much fun as I thought it would be.”
She did go out a few more times, but it evolved into group dating, where there were two or three girls, and two or three guys, and people weren’t really paired off.
She grew more beautiful, and even sexier. They spent less time together – she spent more time with her friends. But they made sure to spend some time doing things with each other every week. And she developed a strong independent streak too. She wasn’t afraid of much of anything, and big new concepts didn’t give her pause.
So he shouldn’t have been surprised when she asked if she could go to Paris.
He came home from work one day and she was already home from school. It was only a month until school ended and she’d been doing very well with her grades. They’d gotten into a little game where he rewarded her for that. Sometimes it was buying her a new outfit, or her own computer (so she could study more efficiently, of course). She had been hinting about a car, but he was a little leery of that. She had only just turned sixteen.
Well, when he got home that day and she was dressed like it was already full summer. She had on a spandex halter top that it must have taken her hours to get on. Then he saw there was a hidden zipper right between her breasts. Still, she had to pull like crazy, stretching the fabric, to get that zipper started. Bob never could figure out why women wore things like that, because it just had to hurt to put on. But it cradled her luscious titties like they were some precious piece of art. It also telegraphed the state of her nipples, which showed through as if she wasn’t wearing anything at all. As for the rest of her, she was wearing high rise panties, and was barefoot. She had just made something and put it in the oven. He could smell it, but couldn’t tell what it was. There was a smudge of flour on her cheek.
Bob had a secretary who was married and who didn’t fool around. But she loved to tease him and she’s one of the finest examples of a M.I.L.F. you could ever want to gaze upon. So he was usually fired up every night when he got home. In fact he usually repaired to the bathroom to shower and paint the walls of the shower stall with his semen. Seeing Mandy like that didn’t help things at all, and his balls rumbled.
“HI daddy!!!” she said, very excited, “How was work today?”
“Just another day,” he answered, putting the mail on the counter.
Mandy took a deep breath, straining that spandex. She bit her lip just a little.
“Yes baby?” he answered.
“I need to ask you something but I’m not sure how you’ll answer,” she said, almost in a whisper as she twirled a long strand of her silky auburn hair around her finger.
“You can ask me anything baby, you know that,” he said, giving her his complete attention.
“Denise and Barbara want me to go to Paris with them for the summer, can I go?”
Now it must be remembered that all Dads assume and believe with whole hearted enthusiasm that their daughters are virgins … quite often even after they’re married and return from the honeymoon. And, if you’re a father yourself, particularly of a teenage girl, then you already know what went through his mind. Within seconds of her question, he had this mental image of some slicky-boy Frenchman plying his little girl with wine and an accent, and then rolling over on top of her and going where no man had gone before.
It was not the image he wanted to take into the shower with him tonight.
“Absolutely not,” he answered immediately.
“Why daddy?” she said, pouting.
“Lots of reasons” he answered in true adult fashion. “For one thing you’re only sixteen. For another you don’t speak French.”
“Well that’s true” she admitted, “But Barbara took French this year and she got an “A” in it, and don’t you want me to be happy? Of course you do Daddy” she said. “That’s why you’re going to say ‘Yes’ … because you love me and want me to be happy.”
This was a standard ploy of hers. If he loved her and wanted her to be happy, he’d let her do whatever it was she was asking to do, at that moment. It very often worked, but not for the reasons she thought it was working.
“Mandy, I said no.”
She walked over to the large over stuffed chair that sat beside the fireplace and plopped down, pouting as she threw one leg over the arm. Her panties were cupping her pussy lips and they were screaming at him silently to come and wash them with his tongue.
“I’ll take you to Paris when you graduate.” he tried.
Mandy sat there, silent, a beautiful pout on her face. She had no idea how gorgeous she was, and how she affected men.
“Not going to talk to me, huh?” he asked.
She shook her head, looking down at the floor.
“Baby don’t be mad, I just think that 16 is too young to run off to a foreign country when you can’t even speak the language,” I said. “Besides, you’re so beautiful you wouldn’t even be able to enjoy yourself. While you were there, every man in France would be doing nothing but trying to get your panties off.”
He hadn’t actually meant to say that last part, but it was how he felt. HE even wanted to get her panties off and he was her own father!
Mandy flushed right along with him. Her eyes went to the front of his slacks. There was a tent there, thanks to his secretary and his daughter. And there wasn’t anything he could do about it right now.
“Well, I know how to handle men,” she said, as if she were twenty five instead of just barely driving age.
“Is that a fact?” he asked. He began to imagine her in various situations “handling” men. His cock got even harder. He walked toward her, towering over her as she lifted her sweet face to look at him. He knew that his hard cock was right there in front of her face. He was flaunting it, like she was flaunting her nipples and pussy. But she wanted to be all grown up and, to his mind, that meant dealing with situations like this one.
“Just how do you handle a man, Mandy?”
Now, though he didn’t know it at that time, Mandy thought she might actually have a chance. She had been on several dates with boys who tried all kinds of things with her, and she had fended off all their hands and antics. She’d done what her girlfriends had taught her to do in those situations. She’d even jacked one boy off, thinking correctly that once he had squirted he’d be a lot easier to handle. And he had been, but she made sure she never got alone with him again. There was something about seeing all that hot white fluid spurting everywhere that made her pussy hot and itchy. Thinking of that made her think of the stiff cock an inch away from her and she looked up at it. There it was, and it was quite a bulge. She licked her lips.
“Well, you give them just a little of what they want and then you …” She trailed off as she realized there was no way she could say to her father ‘You jerk them off and they go away happy.’ Instead she said “You make them happy and they’re a lot easier to handle.”
Her dad leaned down. “And just what is it you do that `makes them happy` Mandy?”
Mandy’s heart was thumping. She smelled the after shave her father liked. She liked it too. Her father smelled so … good. He was so close! Suddenly she felt that hot itch in her pussy again.
“Well, you know… you … well, you kiss them.” On a wild impulse she stood up, pursed her sweet lips up and kissed her father’s lips. Her heart thumped in her chest. This wasn’t like kissing those boys!
Bob was caught by surprise. He’d been trying to intimidate his daughter with his size and nearness and when she kissed him he was so surprised he just kissed her back. It had been a long long time since he’d been kissed like that. Her sweet lips parted and her tongue flicked out and into his mouth. His cock lurched in his pants and began to leak. It was a long and passionate kiss, and when it stopped both of them were breathing hard. Both of them knew it wasn’t the kind of kiss a father and daughter were supposed to share.
“Like that,” she said weakly.
Trying to get his thoughts in order Bob blurted out “And what else do you do to make a man happy, baby?”
Mandy, too, was off balance. That kiss had left her panting, and her pussy felt even itchier. She had an insane urge to stick her hand down her panties and rub herself to a glorious orgasm right here in front of her own father! That kiss had shaken her down to her toes and her pussy was actually WET when they broke apart. In her numbed mind this was a man first, and her father second. As if in a dream, she reached for that bulge.
“Well” she said softly, “you play with his peter.” Her hand molded over the lump and she squeezed gently. He was HUGE! Her mouth fell open. She’d touched several boys and that one she’d jacked off had been a handful, but this was something else. She suddenly felt her pussy spritz and realized she wanted to see the cock that was filling her hand to overflowing.
Without asking, Mandy unzipped his pants and began trying to pull his penis out into the open. She had a tough time of it. Bob’s prick was rock hard now, and it was lying to the side of the opening in his briefs. Mandy stuck her hand in through the fly and fished around until she got her hand on his naked cock. Both of them groaned as her teenage hand circled his knobby and veined penis.
It became obvious to Mandy she’d never get it out through that small opening. She withdrew her hand, not noticing her father’s sigh of discontent, and attacked his belt and the hook that held his pants together. As it popped free, his slacks dropped to the floor like they had lead weights in them. As they hit the floor her hands were dragging down his briefs, which were caught on something very long and very stiff inside them. Mandy felt her pussy pulse again.
Boy! She wanted to rub it bad now.
As she pulled, the front of the shorts strained harder and harder until the lump was sticking straight out what seemed like a foot. Then it bent downward as she pulled harder. With a final jerk she pulled them free of the cock she was now frantic to see and it slapped upward like a catapult.
Mandy sat, her mouth open, her eyes slightly glazed. There, in front of her, was something out of a dream. It wasn’t circumcised, and the tip was peeking out at her through a shroud of soft wrinkled skin that looked almost like lips. The rest was a maze of ridges, lumps and pulsing veins. It was more than six or seven inches long, but she couldn’t marshal enough thinking energy to really try to estimate it’s actual size. It looked as hard as a rock. There was a drip of something clear seeping out of the little eye on the tip. It looked like the clear Kayro syrup in the cupboard and she had a sudden urge to lick it up with her tongue. The whole thing was scary and beautiful at the same time. THAT was designed to go inside a woman’s pussy?! No way in the world. As she stared at it she realized it was getting closer and closer to her face. On another impulse she leaned forward and kissed the tip.
Bob’s mind was also foggy. A beautiful woman had just dragged his pants down and was staring at his stiff dong like it was some yummy treat she was about to eat. He knew that lovely woman was his daughter, but he was way beyond being able to control himself now. Years of pent up desire began bubbling out of the tip of his cock as her lips pooched and molded themselves to the tip. Her hands came up and they wrapped themselves firmly around his tool as her lips began to slide more and more onto the tip, pushing at his foreskin, taking it’s place in sheathing the head of his cock. Suddenly his cockhead was inside her warm mouth and her tongue was bathing it all over.
Mandy couldn’t believe it.
She was sucking her father’s cock!
It was inside her mouth!
She’d NEVER even THOUGHT about doing this to a boy before! Well, she’d THOUGHT about it, but only in a disjointed fantasy sort of way. If you’d have asked her ten minutes ago if she’d ever suck a man’s cock she’d have screamed “No WAY!!!”
But now there WAS a cock in her mouth. Not just any old cock – no it was her daddy’s cock!
And it was WONDERFUL! It tasted … musky sort of. And it was so soft, while being hard at the same time. And it was leaking more of that syrupy stuff that slid around so smoothly on her tongue. It didn’t taste like anything, really, at least nothing she could put a finger on, but it wasn’t bad at all. And when she sucked on that big, warm cock, her pussy spritzed again. Part of her thought her panties must be dripping wet by now. Then, the reality of what she was doing hit her completely. She was sucking her father’s penis! She jerked her head back suddenly and let go of the massive log with both hands. His dick slipped out of her mouth with a “pop” and bobbed in the air.
She looked up at her father’s face, expecting to see thunderclouds. She winced at what she expected to hear. What could he think of her now except that she was some kind of slut?
Bob could see that his daughter was afraid and upset. He wondered where she had learned to do what she had just done. As their relationship had just changed both radically and permanently, he decided to ask. “Baby, have you made a lot of men … happy?”
Mandy was confused. When she looked at her father’s face it didn’t look angry at all! He wasn’t yelling. So the question caught her completely by surprise.
“No, Daddy” she said simply. The truth just popped out. “Well, just Danny Thompson … and only once … and not like that.”
“Really?” her father said. “And just how did you make Danny Thompson happy?” Now he did sound a little upset.
She instinctively reached back to her father’s boner and skimmed her hand up and down it several times. She watched interestedly as the foreskin bunched up and then slid over the big purple knob she had just been sucking on.
“I did this” she said.
Bob groaned as she jerked on his cock. Between her mouth and now her hand he was about to unload months of pent up juices. He covered her hand with his own and stopped her.
“Baby, that’s not what the men in France are going to want you to do to make them happy.” He was trying to calm down. He was trying to stop himself from painting his daughter’s face with his sperm. It didn’t occur to him that she was just as turned on as he was and might take the bait.
“What are they going to want me to do, Daddy?” she said in her little girl voice. “Maybe you should show me” she went on. “So I’ll know what to expect.”
Bob hesitated for about two microseconds. Then his lust and years of pent up longing for his beautiful daughter won over. He began unzipping the zipper between her breasts.
“They’re going to want to see your breasts, Mandy.”
The zipper reached the bottom and the material snapped apart like a broken rubber band. Almost like magic her luscious breasts with their stiff pink nipples were bared to his view. He leaned down and sucked one of those nipples into his mouth. Sudden pleasure/pain streaked from that nipple straight to her weeping pussy and Mandy’s knees went rubbery. Her father caught her as they began to fail her. He hobbled with her to the couch and sat her down, sinking to his knees between her thighs.
“They’re going to want to suck on your nipples like that,” he said as he leaned in to feast again on both nipples this time.
Soon they were swollen with passion and Mandy’s hips were moving restlessly on the couch. She moaned with pleasure and her hands came up to hold her daddy’s head to her breasts. Then he stopped and leaned back. His eyes looked hot and smoky.
“And they’re going to want to do other things too, baby,” he said in a low, growly voice.
“What kind of things Daddy?” Her voice was thick.
His hands went to the high waist of her panties and pulled. She lifted her hips up off the couch and her soaked panties stuck to her pussy lips before they pulled free. Cool air hit her hot pussy and she sighed as he pulled the garment free of her feet. She had to lift her legs up toward her for him to get them off, and he only pulled them off one foot before his hands went to her thighs, spreading them apart, baring her pussy for the first time to a man’s view. She looked down and saw that her pussy lips were fat and swollen. Then, like a flower opening to the sun, those pussy lips peeled apart, opening her sexual channel, as if in welcome.
“They’re going to want to see your pussy, baby” he growled.
“But they can’t see my pussy Daddy,” she moaned. “No boy has ever seen my pussy Daddy.”
That brought another dollop of cream surging out of Bob’s aching prick. It dripped to the floor in a long string. Her pussy was perfect. Her pubic hair was almost red, much redder than the hair on her head. It wasn’t thick, and he could see skin through it easily. It lay on her mons like a crocheted afghan quilt that you could see through. The first thing he thought of was that his prick would fit very tightly into that pussy.
He couldn’t do that, though. One very small part of his brain reminded him she was his daughter, after all. Her pussy lips were engorged and gaping open, like the lips of a lover waiting to be kissed.
“And when they see your pussy they’re going to want to do this,” he said.
Then he leaned in and sucked her pussy lips into his mouth. He spit them back out and drove his tongue deep into her pussy, then drew it out and searched for her clitty. He used his thumbs to spread her pussy lips further, exposing the little bud, and then sucked it in and began nibbling on it with his front teeth.
Mandy didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, scream or just faint dead away. Shannon had bragged that her boyfriend Rod had sucked her pussy, and she claimed it was the best thing she had ever felt. Mandy remembered thinking “You lying bitch. You wouldn’t let Rod near your pussy and even if you did he wouldn’t put his mouth on it.” She now decided she was going to have to apologize to Shannon as soon as she could. That was about all she had time to think of before her daddy’s teeth on her ultra sensitive clitty brought her to a mind melting orgasm.
“Ooooo….Ohhhh…Ahhhhh…OOOOOOAAHAAHAAHHHAH” she yipped as her hips started thrusting up at her father’s mouth rapidly. Her head flailed from side to side and her arms waved in the air like she was trying to fly before her hands grabbed her father’s head and pulled it hard into the sweet juncture of her thighs.
Bob couldn’t stand it. She was beautiful. She was sweet tasting. She was wet and ready. He lifted his head and inched closer to her, bending his cock until the tip was lodged between her still flexing pussy lips.
“And then …” he panted “They’re going …to want … to do …”
He leaned forward and her pussy lips strained to open for the big leaking knob of his penis.
He leaned forward harder and punched half of his rampant cock into her wide open pussy.
“EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE” she squealed as she felt enormous pressure in her pussy. Her eyes, which had been closed snapped open and her head came up off the back of the couch. She stared at what had to be a baseball bat sticking into her pussy. She drew in a huge breath to scream and just then he pulled it back out until just the head was inside. The pressure vanished and then came back as he lunged into her again, this time getting almost three quarters into her.
“OH DADDY!” she squealed and then he pulled it out again.
This time, as he shoved it back into her he reached up and grasped both of her turgid nipples with his fingertips and pulled them away from her body. She watched, her mouth formed in an “OH” as the whole massive prick vanished inside her body.
Meanwhile her nipples shrieked their pain/pleasure straight to her pussy and her great lungful of breath came out in a long groan. Her thighs widened automatically, trying to lessen the pressure her virgin pussy felt. It wasn’t exactly PAIN, but a tear formed at the edge of one eye. Part of her wanted to yell at him to get that monster OUT of her pussy, but her pussy itself had other ideas. It clenched and then relaxed all by itself, and suddenly the pressure lessened. It did it again and suddenly there was more pleasure than pain.
A LOT more pleasure than pain.
“OH DADDY!” Now her voice was thick with passion, and it was nowhere near a complaint.
Bob was in trouble and he knew it. Mandy’s pussy was so hot and slick and tight that his prick wanted to bathe it with sperm immediately. But he knew he couldn’t do that. She wasn’t on the pill. He shouldn’t even have his prick where it was, and he CERTAINLY couldn’t let his dangerously potent sperm enter her obviously nubile and fertile vagina. He would be a Grandfather for sure if he let that happen. And so, with his prick buried in that wonderful snatch, he decided not to move for a while, just to let things calm down a little. It wouldn’t hurt to ream her out a little, but for now he’d just get her off again. He leaned his head down to suck on her marvelous long nipples. He’d pulled them hard because he knew that would cause her pussy to loosen up a little, but now he just wanted her to feel good. He sucked and chewed like a starved baby. At the same time he snuck a hand between them and put his thumb on her clit.
Mandy looked at the top of her daddy’s head and tried to decide what to do. Again she didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, scream or just faint dead away. His penis felt absolutely WONDERFUL in her pussy now, and she knew this would happen again many many times even if she had to blackmail him into doing it. Then he started sucking on her nips again and she felt his thumb on her clitty. Her hips surged upwards off the couch, forcing the head of his cock into the opening of her womb. Her hands snapped back to his head, and she gave up as another orgasm washed over her like a tidal wave. This orgasm was like none she had ever felt in her whole short life. She felt it in her pussy, her nipples and her brain all at the same time. She was sure she’d explode and that pieces of her would fly all over the room. She tried to speak but couldn’t make noises that were in any known language. Instead she made grunts, groans, moans and mewling noises as her pussy went into overdrive, stretched all around the invading penis. Her pussy knew what it wanted. It wanted that bath of sperm that was inside that wonderful stiff prick. And to get it her pussy began to pulse in a rhythm that tightened and relaxed over and over again, milking the cock for it’s precious load.
Bob was amazed at the plasticity of Mandy’s nipples. They had grown almost an inch, and it was like chewing on a piece of salt water taffy. And her pussy felt so fantastic wrapped around his prick. Then it began to milk him. Instinctively he pulled back a little and plunged back in. He could feel the head pushing into the back of his baby’s pussy, where her womb was. He couldn’t think too clearly now. He knew he should pull out. He knew it was dangerous. He knew he shouldn’t squirt.
“Mandy baby?” he huffed.
“Yes Daddy” she moaned.
“I should have gotten you on the pill, baby.”
“Why Daddy?” she moaned again.
“Because the last thing the men in Paris are going to want to do is … THIS!”
He groaned and pushed, burrowing as deep into her as he could as the tube along the bottom of his prick pulsed. His prick was suddenly full of soothing, silver, baby-making man juice. That long silvery rope streamed out of the piss slit of his prick, where it peeked into Mandy’s womb and she got the sperm bath her pussy had been wanting. She felt the hot wetness of a tablespoon of sperm splattering against the walls of her womb. Then as the second shot raced through his penis he pulled back to slam in again, and this tablespoon splashed all along her pussy walls. Then he was back in, feeding three more spurts straight into her womb, filling it up with hot sperm as his prick spat again and again. Bob moaned as he realized he was seeding his daughter’s womb, very possibly making a baby in her this instant as she lay helplessly spread under him, naked and open. What must she think of him?
He found out when he felt her hands in his hair, pulling his face toward hers until they were nose-tip to nose-tip. Between gasps she whispered “You’re cumming inside me, aren’t you Daddy?”
He groaned and a tear formed in his own eye as he miserably admitted “Yesssssss”. His word was timed with yet another string of sperm rushing out of his body and into hers.
She moaned “Oh Daddy” and then pulled his face to hers for a long, wet, tongue filled kiss that went on and on even after he had dumped the last of his spooge into her most secret place.
He slumped over his daughter, unable to push himself off of her. Both of them were limp. Her kiss had convinced him she didn’t hate him, though, so he whispered back.
“That’s what those men are going to want to do to you in Paris, baby.”
Her hands came up and stroked his back. “I don’t want to go to Paris any more Daddy,” she said “I don’t need to go to Paris to have that done to me.” He raised his head and she kissed him again. “I can get all of that I want right here at home.”
His eyes opened wide as he felt his prick begin to pulse back to life.
Bob did eventually relent and let Mandy go to Paris. And she got to go in the spring, when Paris is so beautiful, with blossoms shouting about the new life soon to burst into the world.
She fit right in, because by the time Mandy was halfway through her senior year, Bob’s spurting prick had put a baby in her womb. On her graduation trip to Paris, her gently swelling belly also promised new life, though not for several more months.
And, of course, that belly tended to discourage the men.
Which is exactly what Bob had in mind.
Allison at the Gynecologist
I’d been told there was an alternative women’s health center. While I didn’t mind traditional hospitals, being pregnant for the first time, I wanted to at least explore other natural options.
In preparation for the appointment the next day, I filled out a lengthy intake form. I sat in bed with a clipboard, wearing a simple white cotton tank that clung to free and tender breasts, breasts that were no longer an extra small; I graduated to simply being small and it felt good. Under the tank, there were no other bumps besides my chest, as this was my first and my abdomen was still winning the fight of the bulge.
While filling it out, I noticed myself getting excited, feeling a familiar tingling. There were some interesting questions, beyond the family and medical history. How sensitive are your nipples? How easily do you orgasm? In which position and with what kind of contact do you typically orgasm? Since I loved sex more than ever since becoming pregnant, and had a thing for people in lab coats, I found myself gladly scrawling in the blanks in response. If anything, the intake form increased my anticipation of going to the center.
The next day, showing up in a basic, clinging, striped cotton dress, I got off the train and only needed to walk a few blocks before I saw a discreet sign, Women’s Clinic, on a metal plaque next to a glass door. I rang the buzzer and was called up without much fanfare, arriving in a most unimpressive waiting room. There was little light and it was a bit dingy. The admin was easy to chat with, bringing my intake behind the counter to add to a file, letting me know with a glint in her eye that I’d have Dr. Sells and should be very happy with her.
The rest of the women there were at varying levels of pregnancy or they looked as unassumingly unpregnant as I did. Overall, it was an attractive set. Within a couple minutes, a nurse called my name.
“Allison? Hi, my name is Roxie and I’ll be assisting Dr. Sells today, both prepping you for her and providing additional support as needed.” I nodded. Roxie was a slight light-skinned mixed girl: short natural hair, full lips, gorgeous almond eyes, small chest, and a bubble butt.
Once we arrived at the room, which was spacious and also just as dingy as the waiting room with fluorescent lights and no natural light, she had me sit down on the table while she sat at a computer. It appeared she was scanning the lengthy intake form.
“Okay, we’ll play this a little by ear and let the doctor decide how she’d like to proceed.”
“Isn’t an exam pretty straight forward?” I felt uncomfortable, but also turned on. There was something so erotic about our exchange. I couldn’t stop staring at her lips, shiny with a clear gloss.
Roxie gave a searching look that changed into a more business-like look and she started to explain: “Most women come here because they are fully aware of our services. Once in awhile, someone like your beautiful self is caught unaware. Let me inform you better about us so you can be ready and decide if it’s right for you.” I got a bright smile.
“It’s our belief here that if we create links between pain and eroticism, the birth experience is much easier, and by its nature certainly more pleasurable. In addition, we help women take ownership and better understand their orgasmic response. Lastly, rather than just examining women we actually train their bodies to tolerate pain and to accommodate in a similar way to what they will need for birth and beyond.
“Oh! And I want you to understand that while the staff here can become aroused, our focus is on you and your body. We do not express any desire or act upon it. Rather, we focus on our goals for you, most importantly which is to feel increasingly safe and free to explore the edges of your erotic self as it links to your pregnancy and eventual child birth.”
I must have looked silly, with mouth ajar and not any muscle moving.
Roxie continued, “I know that’s a lot to take in, but will need you to decide whether you’d like to get the process started with treatment.” She flashed another smile, a big warm one this time.
I wanted to do this, I did. Especially if the doctor was half as attractive as the woman sitting down in front of me with the mulberry scrubs. Excitement about the mysterious possibilities blotted out any logistical questions. I was ready and told Roxie as much, who clapped her hands together with enthusiasm, another smile, and the handing over of a waiver, signed with quick nervous strokes.
“So the first thing I’ll need you to do is get undressed from the waist down. I am happy to leave for you to do this.”
“No,” I assured her, “it’s totally fine.”
I peeled my favorite faded black jeans from my still-small waist and over my full hips until they were on the ground.
I then got myself situated on the table, ass sticking to the thin paper underneath me.
“Alright, so we always start our sessions with washing your genitals. If I could have you put your feet in the stirrups, I can get you started.” I put my legs up and watched as she filled a pan up with soapy water, put on some clear white gloves, and retrieved a cloth. Standing beside me, she asked that I scoot more to the edge of the chair.
She explained, “You can look at this part of the experience in a couple different ways. In one, it’s a job to be done. In another, you can let yourself start to cultivate your erotic energy, treating it a bit like a spa.”
With that, she soaped up her hand and let some of the water drip onto my pussy and migrate down my slit. It was so warm and delicious. Next she placed an empty pan below my buttocks, sat between my legs, and placed the whole cloth over my whole pussy, rested it there momentarily, then swiping it down but not quite reaching my ass.
“You have beautiful full lips. Let me spread them a little.” She used a gloved finger to gingerly fan my skin out, then drenched the whole area.
With that, I groaned. “That’s right, let out any noise that makes sense, and please let me know if anything hurts.”
“Okay,” I agreed. I wanted so badly to feel the pressure of her fingers on my clit, but she seemed dead set on touching everywhere but there.
She held my labia open. “Now I will clean out your vagina with my fingers.” She deftly used two fingers and slid them in my slick pussy. She then spread them and then curled them toward herself while pulling them out. I was squirming at this point. And staring at her. A beautiful woman was taking such good care of my cunt. Before I was ready for her to get up, Roxie removed her fingers, gave me an apologetic smile, removed her gloves, and placed a fresh one on.
“If you could let me adjust the stirrups for a second, that would be great. To clean out the anus, a bigger leg angle is best. It looks like, from your intake, you enjoy anal stimulation.”
“Yes,” I mumbled, embarrassed but excited.
“Give it another try.” I re-placed my legs– they were much higher and I felt exposed. This time, however, instead of using her fingers, she had what looked like a large syringe.
“I’m going to slide the nozzle in your sphincter, then we can wash out your rectal cavity with the water here.” She slid the smooth nozzle inside my tight hole and then I felt the strange sensation of my ass filling up not with an object, but with water. I wanted her to stop–I felt plenty full–but she continued to press the water in.
“Just a little more. I understand you may experience some pressure in your rectum. Just relax into it and you can push it out in just a little while.” I closed my eyes.
The nozzle slid back out of my sphincter. “Okay, now it’s time to release.” I didn’t even think about potential mess, because I wanted it out so badly. The water squirted out of my asshole fast and at a heavy flow. When it slowed down, Roxie encouraged me to push a little more while she pressed on my belly.
She caught my eye. “This is just the beginning, to be honest with you. I warm you up and the doctor stretches your limits.”
I nodded and held inside both fear and delicious anticipation.
She took off the gloves and placed the tool in the sink, and flashed me another smile. “Dr. Sells will be joining us momentarily, so how about you remove the rest of your clothes.” I obliged and placed a towel over my super tender breasts.
A hard knock came at the door and in came the click clack of heels and apparently Dr. Sells. She was gorgeous: long thick black hair, suntanned golden skin, striking blue green eyes, and rather than wearing scrubs like Roxie, she donned a tailored skin tight black dress that showed off her extreme curves with patterned leather spike heels.
She swooped over to me, “Dr. Sells. And you are…Allison?” I smiled a goofy smile and said yes. “Pleasure. So…let me take a look at you.”
Her demeanor was much less ginger. She pulled the top towel off me and placed it over her shoulder. “Those look like some breasts that are reaching their capacity!” I nodded.
She grabbed a pair of gloves from the wall, scooted over in a stool beside me, and placed a hand on my chest, using pressure on my whole breast and then using a finger at a time to push into varying spots. “From your wincing, it looks like you are experiencing your fair share of discomfort.”
“Roxie, here’s our plan. We utilize clitoral stimulation digitally and then introduce tolerance to breast pain.” Roxie jumped into action.
“This is the thing, Allison: the amount of strain and pain in the breasts only increases once the baby begins suckling. What we’re looking to do, to start, is create a link between breast pain and erotic pleasure. The best way we know how to do this is through stimulation of your genitals. From your intake, it looks like you prefer fingers and enjoy light contact?” I nod. “Any questions or concerns?” I shake my head. It doesn’t exactly feel like I could object, that she was using a formality.
Roxie wheeled over a metal cart that included all kinds of instruments. In noticing my attention, Dr. Sells quickly blanketed the tools with the towel over her shoulder. “Let’s just keep our attention on sensations,” she said tersely.
My cheeks burned and I looked straight ahead.
“Roxie, I’ll call you back in if I need you, thank you.” Roxie smiled at me, squeezed my shoulder and headed out.
“Let’s see what we’ve got here.” She sat between my legs. “Very large clitoris,” she noted as she examined it with gloved fingers, moving it up and down, placing pressure, and peeling back the hood. “Good healthy pink color. Very receptive to touch.” Her fingers moved down the fold between inner and outer lips, then she used two fingers from each hand to push my vagina open. “You have some elasticity for sure. That won’t be enough, but it’s a good start.”
She went and retrieved a speculum. “Let’s check you out.” She slid the cold metal inside me and quickly started expanding the thing.
“You know your vagina is still dirty…Roxie isn’t always the most thorough,” she stated while grabbing a bladder hanging from a metal rack with a tube attached. “This should do the trick.”
While keeping the speculum inserted, the doctor sprayed a stream of water directly against my cervix. It was very hot and it burned.
“Can you handle it?” she looked up.
“Yes,” I obliged, shut up again by her tone.
“Please know that while we will always wash you, I fully expect you to take proper care of your vagina. This is unacceptable.” Again, my cheeks burned.
She removed the speculum and then replaced the nozzle. The water filled up my cavity before starting to release the hot water. With her other hand, she touched my clit, batting it back and forth slowly. “That sure is a nice clit.” I sheepishly smiled and then leaned my head back as well as arching my pelvis toward her hand.
She abruptly removed her hand from my button. “Nope. Feel free to make noises, but you will not direct the action here by moving. You stay still unless I direct you to do otherwise.” For someone with such a congenial face, I found myself actually a bit scared of her, or at least scared about disappointing her.
I nodded. “While we’re at it, I’d like you to respond to me with actual words. And to address me as doctor. “Now…would you like me to play with your clit again?”
I could hardly produce the words: “Yes, doctor.”
“Good girl.” It was the first time I felt any break from her coldness, when she said those two words. And she started touching me. With attention and slowly back and forth side to side, this time taking my clit between her index and middle finger so that her hand was cupping the base of my vulva, all the while water trickling out of my pussy.
I managed to stifle my impulse to move, but let out low and deep moans. “There you go,” she responded.
Once the water bag was empty, the doctor pressed on my stomach to release the remainder of the water, removed the nozzle, her other hand also leaving my clit. All I could think about was getting more of her touch, and being able to touch her breasts.
“Now that that’s taken care of!” she exclaimed, removing her gloves and letting me get a look at the curve of her buttocks. I got distracted in my reverie until Roxie came back.
“Roxie, you did not complete cleaning out the patient’s vagina…”
“Yes, doctor, I’m sorry doctor,” Roxie uttered in an anxious but defeated monotone. Roxie turned to me, touching my stirruped knee this time. “I’m really okay. This is something I have agreed to as part of my job. Instead of having total aversion, I encourage you to let it arouse you.”
With that, Roxie removed every item of clothes, ceremoniously but relatively quickly. Her skin was smooth, nippes dark and erect, butt absolutely perfectly round with a shelf. Without any asking, she got on her knees while the doctor retrieved a very large cylindrical object.
As the doctor approached with heavy steps and fresh gloves, Roxie’s beautiful lips parted. She stared in the doctor’s eyes while the hard rubber tool disappeared down her throat. She remained completely still for many seconds, until Dr. Sells quickly and entirely removed it.
“Two more,” Dr. Sells said. “Yes, doctor,” said Roxie with tears in her eyes. Mouth open, the dildo slid back again into her wet mouth. It must have realistically been 10 inches…This time after only a couple seconds, Roxie started heaving but Dr. Sells simply kept the dildo in place. Tears started sliding down her face and her body involuntarily wriggled. Out it came and Roxie let drain from her mouth an incredible amount of stringy, thick spit.
“That’s good. Now’s your last time,” and she shoved the dildo in her mouth with force and this time pumped it in and out, inspiring Roxie’s gag reflex. All the while, Roxie’s eyes were fixed on her doctor. Unceremoniously, the dildo came out, Roxie stood up and re-robed, and the doctor removed and re-applied new gloves.
“Thank you for being patient with me, Allison. Let me see if this had any impact on your arousal levels.” It had, it did, I know that. I was mesmerized by the scene. She stood next to me, peeled back my towel, spread my slit with two fingers, and explored the opening. “Yes. Good girl.” I got even wetter hearing that. Then she started fondling me, distractedly while directing Roxie.
“Grabe the #2 dildo, please.” She pressed on my clit hard and would not let go. She just smirked. “This patient is ready for your stimulation, Roxie, now aren’t you, Allison?”
“Yes, doctor,” I panted. Roxie stood with a large shiny metal dildo in her hands, gloves on. Her touch was feather light, first grazing slowly over my clit and then picking up speed. I was yelping, it felt so good. Next she used the other hand and held the tool at my opening. No need for lube at that point. As she continued to flick over my clit, she methodically pushed every inch inside me. The tool stretched and pushed me open. I was moaning continuous moans and caught in the moment watching her hands stroke me, and imagining her beautiful face between my legs. Long, slow, and deep, the dildo pushed inside me and out all the way again. Smooth and rhythmic while her hands explored and teased my sensitive and slick button.
Without any break in action, the doctor stood beside me. “It’s time to introduce some pain.” She grabbed both full breasts in her hands, first cupping lightly and then gradually squeezing harder. “Tell me when it becomes unbearable.”
“Yes, doctor.” The thing was that any pressure on my tits whatsoever was killer but with my clit and pussy being worked, I found the pain enhanced the pleasure. It stung–they stung–my tits, but I lied down silent with mouth agape, looking at my doctor’s cleavage and back at my clit and the fingers on it.
I wanted to stay there forever, but she stopped her squeezing. “Please pause, Roxie.” She stopped. I made a yelp in protest. “The nipples may present more of a challenge. Let’s coordinate your vaginal insertion with my nipple manipulation.” Doctor screwed two clamps to my breasts that connected by a chain. They were cold and extremely tight. I gritted my teeth.
“You can start now.”
Roxie, this time, used her left thumb on my clit, moving up and down, looking entirely focused on my physical response. “We believe in expressing here, Allison, so you make whatever noises you need to manage the sensation.”
With that, the doctor took a finger, hooked it into the metal chain on my chest, and slowly began lifting it toward the ceiling. Simultaneously, the dildo stretched my pussy out, driving deep into my cervix. “Ahhhhhhhhhh,” I moaned.
“Good girl,” Doctor cood while easing up slightly, the dildo also pulling out a little. WIthout much rest, she pulled up again. I worried my nipples would tear, they were being pulled so hard. Stretched past a point I’ve ever seen. The dildo was buried in my hole while my clit was being stroked.
My moan was deep this time and sustained, letting up with my pussy and tits, then rubbing, pulling, and pushing in turn, brief relief and then intense sensation, every time an involuntary sound being released.
“She’s a particularly sexy one, isn’t she?” the doctor asked Roxie. Roxie nodded, I looking for genuine response and found it. “How about I give her a little extra fun?” Roxie didn’t look like she thought it was a good idea, her face like when she was about to take the dildo down her throat. She simply abided and went into a drawer to find a clipboard.
While the nurse was doing so, Dr. Sells walked beside me, placed two fingers at my opening, and grazed them up my slit on either side of my clit. She said, “You make me want to give you some extra special treatment. What I mean is that I’d like to include extra physical contact with me and potentially my nurse. If you’d like to do so, we’ve got a little form here that gives us permission and releases us from liability.”
As Roxie walked toward me with clipboard, Doctor pushed her two fingers inside my cunt, curling them against my g-spot and waiting there while I desperately and quickly signed. I should have read something, protected myself, but I just didn’t care.
“Okay, then!” Doctor said with pep. “Now we can do the add-on I’ve been wanting to. Please get back in between her legs, Nurse.” Now the nurse was back with dildo at my opening and hand just shy of my clit.
The doctor walked to my side. She pulled her dress sleeves off her shoulder, and then slowly continued pulling down until her tits were freed. They had weight, with large and beautiful areolas, and perky light brown nipples. I wanted to touch them, but just stared. She clicked to over my head, her legs apart, then painfully and deliciously leaned her tits into my face. My nose and lips were pressed against her cleavage and I couldn’t hear or breathe well.
Then it started again: My cunt filled and nipples pulled while my clit was rubbed slowly back and forth. I was lost: lost in sensation, buried in tits, stretched beyond what I thought I could bear. This went on for a while, my oxygen limited, my moans quickening but muffled.
I reached my hands up to the doctor’s tits, hungrily drawing a nipple into my mouth, greedily sucking hard as they continued their coordinated care until I couldn’t take it any more. I orgasmed hard and long, mouth full of tit, pussy filled with dildo, clit expertly rubbed by a gloved hand, and nipples gripped and stretched.
“Good girl… let go…give us your cum…we want to see your body writhe…that’s it…give it to us….good girl,” they cooed.
After the orgasm, the rest was a blur. I know I was sent out relatively soon afterward, told my release for extra contact would be on file, and that I should make a follow up appointment for two weeks from now. They hoped my pain tolerance would increase over the course of 15 sessions.