huma qureshi ki nangi photo

huma qureshi ki nangi photo-)My daddy pees on me and I like it. Sometimes I even beg him to whip out his big dick and take a leak right on my face. How did I get this perverted, some people may wonder? Well, it all started last year when my father and I went on vacation to the Jersey shore. We shared a room because we didn’t have enough money for separate quarters. My being a well-developed 18 year-old blonde shouldn’t have been a problem. After all, he was my father and we had rented a suite with a bedroom. He would use that while I slept on a roll-away bed in the living room. We checked in and found to our surprise that the suite assigned to us had a heart-shaped bathtub right in the middle of the living room. I’d heard about these things from friends who went to the Poconos, but I’d never seen one. Little did I know how much trouble I would get into while luxuriating in it. The day after we arrived my father went for a walk down the boardwalk to the next town to check out a bar he’d heard about from a friend. I did some swimming and, to be honest, some trolling for cute lifeguards. One big hunk really made me pussy juice up. It was too bad that he already had a girlfriend. Frustrated and covered with salt water, I came back to the suite and decided to take a bath. I ran the water and stripped out of my bikini. In the mirror over the dresser I could see my foxy little body. My tits are real bouncy and many a man has drooled his saliva over my pencil-eraser nipples. So there I was, lying in the water and feeling real horny. I started massaging my clit, hoping for a big cum. That lifeguard’s little bathing suit had burned itself in my brain and I kept thinking about taking it off without using my hands. I was all worked up and ready to cum when suddenly my father walks out of the bedroom. He’d been there the whole time! There I am with my tongue hanging out and my hand splashing away at my cunt and my own father sees me. I could have died on the spot. “Sally!,” he shouted, “what the hell is going on here? What are you doing?” He sounded furious, which, considering I was only jerking off, seemed too severe a reaction. “I’m sorry. It’s just that . . .” How could I explain this? “It’s just that you’re a little slut,” he answered for me. “A whore. A fingerfucking cunt just like your mother.” He was livid as he dragged up memories of my mother, a cold bitch who abandoned us when I was five. I also realized that he was drunk and Daddy does not hold his liquor well on the rare occasions when he has a few. He kept screaming obscenities and insults at me. Could they hear us in the next room? This was so embarrassing! “I oughta take you over my lap. I oughta beat you black and blue. You little pig. Rubbing your cunt like that right in our room.” He stumbled toward me as he raved and ranted. I just stayed in the tub hoping that the soapy water covered my tits and pussy because I knew if he saw them he’d get even madder.sex picturesWhen he got up close to the tub Daddy did the most insane thing I’ve ever seen. He opened his fly and whipped out his cock and started peeing on me. “Stop, stop,” I screamed. “What are you doing?” His stream was going all over my face and hair, dripping down into the bath water. “A little jerk-off whore like you deserves to be peed on. Take this and like it.” He grabbed my head and pissed right onto my closed mouth. I couldn’t breath, so I had to open my lips for some air. A thick stream of urine blasted right in and I had to swallow it. To my amazement it was delicious, a saltytreat for my palate. I was instantly hooked. “More, more, piss on me some more,” I begged. He ran his endless stream over my face. I began masturbating furiously. Now all he yelled was encouragement. “Frig that clit. Com’n you little piss whore. Let me see you come. You wanna come, don’t you?” “Yes, yes, Daddy. Help me come.” I stood up in the tub. He was smart enough to aim his piss right at my cunt as I diddled my clit shamelessly for him. The warm urine went all over my hands and into my pussy, getting me off almost instantly. My hips bucked from the force of my orgasm and I had to sit back in the pissy water to avoid falling down. All his piss was out by now and I knew what he needed to cap this off. “Come here,” I ordered. He looked horrified at what he had done in his drunken rage, but he moved in close anyway. I took his prick in my hand and it got hard almost instantly. I pulled him close and began tounging his pissy penis. It was flavored by his delicious urine. Gobbling him down my well-practiced throat, I made him come in a minute. He must have been incredibly horny. I swallowed his love juice into my stomach where it mixed with his tangy piss. “Oh, baby, I’m so sorry,” he said, hugging me. I told him not to worry about it, that this was just the beginning of our piss life together. And it was.

Pete had been friends with Steve since he had first graduated from college and gotten his first job. He remembered…

My clothes were neatly laid out on the bed. Red silk blouse, black ankle length wrap around skirt, lacy white bra and matching string. “Well, it may be another boring promotional party, but at least I’ll look good,” I thought to myself. I hated these things, always having to be on your guard against the other P.R. bitches, all of them looking to fill your shoes and their most direct route is via your jugular. This one was for some new product that we’d just finished the marketing strategy for. They were launching it at the Barbican Centre. A hail of floodlights and champagne and then a quick look at the commercial, followed by more champagne and then home to my nice warm bed and my loving husband. Josh, my husband, never came to these bashes. He couldn’t stand the morons and their patronising talk, but he always made himself available to ferry me to the venues and back home again after it was over. I stood in front of the mirror and admired myself. “Not bad for a thirty-five-year-old with two kids,” I thought as the door opened and Josh said, “Come on love, I want to be back in time for the match. You’re looking good.” “I’m ready now. Shouldn’t be a late one tonight.” I kissed Josh on the cheek, closed the car door and made my way up the steps. They were really going for it this time, no expense spared by the look of the posters and glitter that adorned the hallway. Then I noticed my boss and the client. “Irene, hello. You’ve met John Frazer from the Promo Dept at Majorhost haven’t you?” “Yes, of course I have,” I said as I stretched my hand out. “My dear, so nice to see you again, and what a lovely outfit,” the old man said. “Enjoy the show.” I walked into the function room and looked around the usual faces. Most of them worked for either the client or us but there were a few I didn’t recognise. A glass was pressed into my hand and I looked around to meet the eyes of an extremely handsome man I definitely hadn’t met before. “Don’t you just hate these things?” he said in a quiet voice. “They’re not that bad when you get used to them. I’m Irene Ross from Heath Ross and Associates,” I said inquisitively. “Forgive me, Steve Daly from Majorhost. I work in the Promotions Department. Come on let’s have a drink.” I followed him to the bar as I downed the contents of the glass he’d given me only moments before. We talked for a while long while before he said, “Let’s have a dance.” Normally I wouldn’t dance at these functions but the jealous stares of some of my colleagues had me feeling a little mischievous. “Right, let’s do that.” I said as headed towards the music in the main hall. We danced for a long while, then the commercial was shown to ingratiating and rapturous applause and then it was time to go home. Steve said, “Want a lift?” “Thanks Steve but my husband is expecting me to call for him.” “Let him stay with the TV, give him a ring and let him know that you’ve got a ride home,” he said as he plopped his mobile into my hand. “I’m not ready to let you go just yet.” I rang Josh while Steve’s beautiful piercing eyes shone at me. What was I thinking? It all seemed so naughty, it was like being on a date again. Josh was fine about me taking a lift from one of my friends, besides, his match had gone into extra time and he was more interested in that. We drove across London in the right direction for home when Steve said, “I live just there,” as he pointed at the docklands. “Nice place, you should see it. How about we stop off for a nightcap?” “No, really, I shouldn’t,” I said in my assertive tone but Steve was having none of it. “Come on, just a small one. It has one of the best views on this side of the river.” He was persistent and I capitulated. “OK, but we’d better be quick,” I said.nude young girl sex photosHis building was one of those old warehouses. Smart enough too. He stopped by a door and pressed some code into a metal box, there was a click and he turned the handle. He stepped back and gestured me into the room. As I walked past him the sound of a TV was clear and as I rounded the corner into his living room I was greeted by the sight of two men sitting on a sofa. One was a young lad, about nineteen, and the other was older, easily in his sixties. “This is my old man, and the other is Kevin, my cousin.” “I thought we were having a nightcap Steve?” “Yeah, what do you fancy?” he said. “Well, I didn’t expect company,” I said trying to get to grips with the situation. “Oh, don’t worry about them, they’re family,” he said in a patronising tone. “Whisky alright for you? Sit down and make yourself comfortable.” There were two sofas and I started towards the unoccupied one when the old man patted the cushion between himself and the young lad, “Come and sit here, my beauty,” he said. I felt too uncomfortable to be rude and did as I was told. They moved slightly apart to give me room. I can feel the young lad’s eyes on me all the time as I sat between the two of them. “Lovely lad my Stevie, isn’t he?” said the old man. “Got a lot more about him than young Kevin here. Kevin’s still a virgin you know. Got his fingers into some bird last week but that’s about it, so far.” I felt like screaming but managed to stop myself. “Do you mind if I just give my husband a call, he’ll be worrying about me.” That assertive tone again, but it had as much effect on the father as it had had on his son. “Phone’s not working love, but my Stevie’s got one of those mobiles, he’ll be back with your drink soon, dare say he’ll let you use it, if his battery’s not gone flat. Usually does at this time of night.” Panic held me like a rabbit caught in a cars’ headlights, I didn’t know what to do and then I noticed the young lad was staring at my legs and my palms began to sweat. I felt the old mans leg pressing against my thigh and turned to look at him. To my astonishment, he was grinning and obviously enjoying my embarrassment. I looked across to the young lad to find that he had his hand in his pocket and was playing with himself. I looked away in disgust and felt a hand arrive on my thigh and slowly work it’s way into the split of my skirt. I tried to stand up and was pushed back down by a pair of strong hands from over my shoulders. Steve was back. “Steve, please let me go, I need to go home to my husband,” I was pleading. “Just behave yourself or your darling husband will have to be told about how you came here looking to be fucked.” I sat there in horror as two hands began to open my skirt and manoeuvre up my thighs. My legs were being pulled apart and I felt both petrified and confused. I couldn’t run away, the door had probably been locked behind me. I decided to sit quietly and hope to get out of there alive. “I bet she’s got a lovely little cunt, what do you reckon Stevie?” said the old man as the lad began to unbutton my blouse. I tried to stop him and my hand was dragged behind my back. “Please, leave me alone!” I begged. “Shut up and do as you are told!” Steve snarled. My blouse fell open and was lifted over my shoulders as my wrists were tied together behind my back and I began to sob. My bra was removed and both of the men at my sides took a breast into their mouths, sucking greedily at my hardening nipples. Then the old man moved his mouth over mine and pushed his tongue between my lips. I could taste the beer and cigarettes on his breath. Disgusting. Moments later I was forced to my feet and the young lad began to unbutton my skirt. I could feel his rough hands fumbling with the buttons as he groped under the waistband and then the garment fell to the floor at my feet. I was standing there in front of these perverts in nothing but my lacy white g-string. I felt ashamed and embarrassed. “I bet she’s got a lovely little cunt,” said the old man. “Turn her round, I want a look at her snatch.” The young lad grabbed my shoulders and hurriedly turned me to face the old man and Steve, who was standing behind the sofa with a video camera. I couldn’t see his face but I pleaded, “Please don’t hurt me. Let me go home to my husband and I promise I won’t tell anybody about this.” Steve lowered the camera, looked straight at me and said, “You are at home. My home, and you’re going to do exactly as I want or you’ll not see your dear husband again. Right?” I began to cry again and then was pushed to the floor at the old man’s feet. “Roll her over sonny,” he said, “and spread her legs.” I was turned face down on the carpet and then the young lad hooked his thumbs under the elastic of my string and ripped them down my legs to the knee. “Phwooarrr, she’s a cracker, go on son, have a feel,” the old man said. I lay there for what seemed like an eternity but was probably only a couple of minutes when I felt a hand fold around my buttock and move downwards toward my cunt. I could feel the fingers rubbing between my lips and then one slipped inside me. I was wet, I suppose the fear and embarrassment of being naked in front of three strangers had caused this involuntary reaction. I heard the old man grunt as he got to his feet and tell the young lad to stand back as it was now his turn. His hand was rough as his fingers found their way directly to my soft cunt lips and caressed over my clit. It felt good; he had a natural touch. I heard myself screaming inside and was thinking, “No Irene, you can’t enjoy this!” but I was. The old man was probing me, running his fingers all over my slit and between my buttock, touching my clit. I began to move myself upwards, desperately trying to contact my clit with his fingers. If my hand weren’t tied, I’d have probably found myself frigging off. I was now so turned on that my juices were in full flow and were leaking out into my neatly trimmed pubic hair. And then the contact stopped.nudist family sex hot photosNothing happened for a while and I could hear the three of them talking in hushed tones. Every now and then I could make out a word and sometimes a sentence, it seemed like I was going to be fucked. Suddenly there was an arm around my waist and I was brought to my knees and turned to face the sofa. I was pulled forwards until my chest rested on the seat. My arse was in the air and my tight, dripping little pussy was on view to anyone behind me. A blindfold was put around my face and I could only experience darkness and touch. Another minute or so passed and then it started. A hand groped my arse and then my cunt… “Hey Steve, I think she’s pissed herself, she’s sopping wet!” It was the young lad. “Gerroff, I’m havin’ her first,” said the old man. I heard his zipper being pulled down and then something pushed against my cunt. “Oh God, this is it, he’s going to fuck me,” I thought to myself. Slowly he pushed his cock into my slippery cunt. It was bigger than I’d expected and filled me up. I was fighting against the emotions that were telling me that I was actually enjoying this, eventually submitting to them and pushing back against him. My breath escaped in a long, “Ooooh,” and I began to feel a warmth deep inside my abdomen. I heard my voice saying, “Go on, FUCK ME,” but couldn’t believe that I was actually saying it. He thrust into me for about a minute and then I felt him withdraw and warm droplets spray over my arse. The dirty bastard had spunked off on me. “Go on sonny, you have a go now. She’s a dirty little whore and it’s time you had a woman.” The next thing I felt was my ankles being grabbed and I was dragged backwards, falling heavily onto the carpet and being hurriedly turned over so that I was lying on my back. My legs were kicked apart and then another cock found its way into my well-lubricated hole. This one was much faster in his thrusting and he didn’t last long before he started grunting and moaning. “I’m going to come, I’m going to come,” he shouted. Seconds later he spurted his jism into my unprotected cunt and he was no longer a virgin. I was left on the carpet with my hands tied behind me for a few more minutes before the blindfold was removed. “Don’t ever say that you didn’t enjoy that,” said Steve. “Want a lift home or should I call you a taxi?”

सेक्स क्लासिक्स ऑनलाइन देखें India

  1. (What follows is a work of fiction. All readers must be over eighteen years of age. It is suggested that readers use their most open minds, but, since some have nothing resembling such, this cannot be made a requirement for enjoying the story. If you are one of those poor, unfortunate thinkers who have lost the key of acceptance and cannot open their minds, please don’t continue reading what you know will stir up your righteous indignation.)Chapter OneMy Dad made mistakes the year I was 18. He was a deputy sheriff in Oklahoma City. He was busted for dealing pounds of methamphetamine, and given thirty-five years. Because he was a lawman, he was put in solitary confinement. Putting ex-lawmen in solitary confinement is a clever way of letting the general prison population know they’re cops. I was just finishing the drawing I was going to send him for my 19 Christmas, when I found out he had beaten himself up and then hung himself in his cell at the prison at Lexington.Mom made some mistakes, too, but hers were more innocent…at least at first. After Dad beat himself to death, Mom grieved for about a year, about the appropriate time for a wife-beater who was wired all the time. Then she started dressing more attractively. She also started taking the stairs to and from the third-floor law office where she was a legal secretary. She had some extra weight to take off if she hoped to find a husband who wouldn’t take off, she said. When she fell down the stairs and broke her arm in seventeen places, her job as well as her motivation to exercise ceased.Mom had no choice. She was alone in Oklahoma City without a husband or a job. She also had a hungry, growing teenaged son. She packed our belongings in the back of her Ford Country Squire station wagon and drove us the one hundred and twenty miles from OKC to Hanging Tree, Oklahoma–the strangest smalltown in the world.Hanging Tree was named after a hanging tree that still stood–after two hundred proud years of evil–in the yard of the courthouse square in the center of the tiny town. The tree had been used for hanging in the previous century first by the “civilized” Native Americans then by the “cultured” European invaders. Ropes tied to its strongest and most accessible limb had ended hundreds of lives over the years. I thought the town was going to end my life without the courtesy of a noose.Mom moved us in with her widowed mother in a white clapboard house at the southskirts of Hanging Tree. From the moment we moved in, there was trouble. Trouble was named Stanley. Stanley was my cousin, but he wasn’t proud of that fact. To him, my father’s disgrace was mine and my mother’s as well. He was a thick-skulled, ex-Marine, 18 years older than I was, but he became my personal demon. He didn’t like the idea that Mom and I were living with his grandma, increasing her burden in her golden years. He loved his grandma. He respected his grandma like any good military man. When he came over and threatened to kill me if I didn’t leave, I told him to go fuck himself, so he decided to change tactics. That’s why he told Grandma Russell that I’d been having sex with my mother since Dad went to prison. It was his way of gently motivating his beloved grandmother to do the right thing and kick us out.I had just walked into the yard at Grandma’s house. I’d been across town at a friend’s house smoking pot. I loved the way pot made me feel, and the fact that it was illegal only made me feel closer to my dead Dad. Grandma was out in the yard, hanging washing on the clothes line. They liked hanging things in Hanging Tree. I had no idea my grandmother was waiting to hang me up for the rest of my life.As I walked into the yard, Grandma Russell said, “Micheal, come here! I want to talk to you!”She sounded serious, so I stopped in the yard and said, “What you want, Grandma?”She walked her bony, wrinkled ass, working her elbows for propulsion, and came quickly across the yard to where I stood by the gate. When she got two feet from me, she stopped, put one hand on a hip, and shook the index finger of her other hand in my face. Taken aback, I said, “What’s the deal, Grandma?”“Micheal Russell, have you been having sex with your mother?” The finger in my face wagged out each word. “Stanley was over here this morning and said you’ve been doing it with your mother ever since your father went to prison and died! If you have, you had just better confess your sin so I can pray for you!”I looked at her. I started to speak, but words wouldn’t come. I was shocked beyond tears or self-defense. From my 18-year-old viewpoint, I was living through a hell on earth. My father had been disgraced, imprisoned, and killed. My mother had disabled herself, and we’d had to move from Oklahoma City to a scab like Hanging Tree. I had been getting one or two pimples that made me self-conscious. We had no money, I had no friends, and now my grandmother was accusing me of fucking my mother!“No, Grandma! No! Christ!”“Don’t you use the name of the Savior in vain, young man. You’re in enough trouble with Heaven for having carnal knowledge of your own sweet mother and her with one bad arm!”“But I didn’t! I didn’t have sex with Mom! Grandma! Stanley’s lying! Why are you so quick to believe something like that just because my sick cousin Stanley says it’s so?”She looked at me with hidden disappointment dawning as she realized that it probably wasn’t true. She had been ready for a battle against the devil for my soul and Momma’s pussy. Now that she began to believe I was telling the truth (and at the time I was), she became embarrassed. But it was a strange embarrassment.Instead of acting as if she were embarrassed about what she had said, she acted as if she were naked in front of me. When a woman is simply apologizing for being irrational, she doesn’t cover her clothed breasts with her arm, or splay her hand over her clothed pussy. I was young, but I read a lot. I knew the signs, and there was no mistaking the look in Grandma’s eyes. She was as turned on as a cat in heat.She took the hand that had symbolically hidden her pussy and put it on my arm. She smiled at me and laid her head against my shoulder. I couldn’t believe what seemed to be happening. Then she removed any doubt. Putting her other hand on the bulge in the front of my jeans, my grandmother said, “Since your grandfather died, it seems like my old cunt does all my thinking for me.”The longer Grandma massaged my dick through my jeans, the more forgiving I became. “Your Mom is going to be in Tulsa till late tonight. Let’s go in the house,” she said. I was easily led.We went to her bedroom. She sat on the bed and pulled me close to her. With a wicked gleam dancing in her old eyes, Grandma undid my belt and fly, took out my rock-hard eight inches (the only thing Dad left me), and dove for it like a big-mouthed bass for a spinner. I’d never experienced the like before, but Grandma had. She knew just what to do, grabbing my ass, twirling the tip of her tongue around the head of my dick as it bobbed in and out of her mouth. In what seemed like moments, I was holding the back of Grandma’s head with both hands and squirting cum into her throat. She moaned as she sucked. My head was reeling from the orgasm and from the thought of what I was doing.When she’d sucked me dry, she sat back, wiped her lips, smiled at me and said, “Now…you may not be fucking your mother, but you can fuck your old grandma’s pussy if you want.” She pulled her feet up on the bed, pulled up the hem of her dress, spread her legs, and scooted her hips forward on the bed. I reached down and grabbed her panties and pulled them down her skinny thighs and off over her tiny feet. She reached down and spread her inner lips. My dick got hard again.I kneeled on the bed and positioned myself between her thighs. Grandma reached in the front of her dress and pulled out a long, hard-nippled breast. Then she reached between my legs and grabbed my cock. “Oh, God forgive me! Heaven knows I need this!” Then she put the head of my dick between her moist lips. She threw her arms around my lower back and slammed me into her sixty-year-old snatch. It was warm, and soft, and I was hooked.In the limited day to day evaluation of a teenage boy, I became quite fond of life in Hanging Tree. I went to school where I was a slightly shy new kid with few friends, but when I came home I had plenty of opportunities to relieve the day’s stresses. Every time Mom was out of the house, I’d fuck Grandma like we were newlyweds. I had her all over the house. She made me like the forbidden aspect of our lovemaking by being up front with her wickedness. Sometimes I’d worry about people coming to the door, because when I was sliding my big dick in and out of Grandma’s lush, withered cunt, she’d shout things like, “That’s it. That’s it, son! Fuck Grandma’s pussy hard! Oh, you grandmotherfucker!”Mom never let on that she knew. I found out that Grandma had told her soon after it began, but Mom played dumb. Then on the night of July 4th, 1979, Mom and Grandma started getting ready to go somewhere. I came in the house and went to the refrigerator to get a Dr. Pepper. I noticed them getting ready and asked where they were going.“You’re going too,” Grandma said. “Go get cleaned up some.”“Where am I going?” I asked Mom who came into the kitchen, asking me to zip her up. (Her right arm was still weak from the fall.)“We’re going to a special Bible study,” Mom said, smiling over her shoulder at me after I pulled the zipper to her neckline.“Ah, Mom. I don’t want to go to church.” We didn’t make it a habit of going to church. Dad had been a nonbeliever, and Mom hadn’t made a big thing of her beliefs if she had any. I had come to the conclusion that God was a story like Santa Claus that they told you to convince you to be good.With Mom standing right in front of me, smiling at me and working to put her earring on, Grandma walked right up to me and grabbed my bulge. She’d never done anything like that in front of Mom before. I looked at Mom’s face, expecting surprise, and saw only that kindly light she always shined at her only child. Grandma said, “You’ll like this Bible study, you hard-dicked sweetheart. Now go get ready!” She gave my bulge a squeeze that made me see stars. I went to comb my hair.It was indeed a “special” Bible study, but I wondered then, and I still wonder, how unique it was. Christianity, in its more fundamentalist forms, is a repressive disease that starves its practioners for sex. If there were no Christianity, there would be a hundred times less perversion. Christianity forces people to deny their sexuality until it bursts forth in slightly twisted eruptions. I wondered how many churches across the nation has special meetings that only the more sensual Biblethumpers attended.The Bible study was held at a house in the country. When we pulled up about sunset, there were six cars parked carelessly around the circular drive at the front of the expensive home. Grandma parked the station wagon, and we went inside.A beautiful blonde girl of about twelve years met us at the front door and escorted us to a large inner room. There were eleven people in the room. Our number would bring the total to a multiple of seven. I learned that this was thought to be important. The young blonde introduced us to the assembly by happily proclaiming, “The seventh family is here! Here they are! The seventh family is here.”The room was furnished with style. The walls were covered with bright abstract paintings and the leaves of potted plants set all around its perimeter. The open square of the center of the room was bordered by long, plush, white couches. We sat in one corner of the fence of couches, and a tall, thin, dark man in a black business suit stood and began addressing the congregation:“If you have known Love, you have known God,” said the deacon.“If you have known Love, you have known God,” we all repeated.The deacon strolled slowly around the inner square, smiling at each, acknowledging each, as he spoke:“This is a great occasion for us today. Last month we lost three of our members who moved to Los Angeles. We have done well, but there is only so much we can do if we lack the Holy Numbers. Now we have seven families represented by fourteen people. Our prayers will be mighty tonight, praise God.”“Praise God,” the congregation echoed.“I am called The Deacon. No one here uses their everyday name. This is a special meeting of true believers in God’s grace. We believe, as did the first century Christians, that nothing is wrong as long as it hurts no one and is done in true love. Our freedom, eroded by centuries of dogma, is the liberty of the Law of Love.“We all go to regular Fundamentalist churches because Fundamentalism is about all there is in Oklahoma. But this is our true place of worship. Here we thank God for the gift of our bodies. Here we live as we were created to live in shameless Eden.”At that, everyone stood. I’d only been to church once or twice in my life, but I remembered they were big about everybody doing everything together, standing together, sitting together, singing together. I stood. Then everyone started taking their clothes off. It was quiet, unhurried, almost reverent. Not until I saw Mom and Grandma, to my right and my left, disrobing did I come out of my amazement enough to do likewise.When everyone was naked, the Deacon took a seat on the couch. Then the women, all the women, stood and paraded in the center square. At first they said nothing, just walked around, every shape and size of women, every age from the twelve-year-old blonde to my sixtyish grandmother. I couldn’t take my eyes off my beautiful, big-boobed, brunette-bushed Mom. Since I had been wrongly accused of fucking her, fucking her was all I could think about. The mind is funny that way.Then, at a nod from the Deacon, the women stood together in a cluster, raised their prayerful hands to their lips, bowed their heads, and began chanting a Bible verse over and over–“Give to every man who asks of you, and from him who would borrow of you, turn not away.“Give to every man who asks of you, and from him who would borrow of you, turn not away…”Besides the Deacon, there were two other males in the room, a fat man with a grey beard and a skinny redheaded guy a few years older than me. They were all masturbating their cocks to get them hard. I didn’t have to.The women stopped chanting their Bible verses. Then Mom walked over to me, her big breasts swinging, still firm. She held her bad arm under her breasts. She got on her knees in front of me and said, “Be careful of my arm, darling.” Then she bowed her head again and took the head of my dick in her mouth.I was ecstatic. Nothing had ever felt as good. Looking down incredulously, I saw her beautiful hazel eyes smiling at me merrily as she sucked my big, thick dick into her pretty mouth. I began to rock my hips up and down, fucking her mouth. Her good hand crept up my thigh and squeezed my balls.“Oh, fuck this,” I said. I got up and set her where I’d been sitting. She was more beautiful to me, sitting there with her legs pulled back, smiling at her son about to fuck her, than anything I’d seen before or have seen since. I grabbed my throbbing dick in my right hand. I was going to fuck my mother! I was going to be a motherfucker just like I’d been accused of being. I was about as far from being ashamed of it as I could be. I felt like the luckiest guy in the world.I could feel the individual hairs of my mother’s hot cunt touching the head of my dick as I guided it between her fat, olive-pink pussylips. When I stuck the head in her hole, Mom cooed, “Oh, yes! Stick that big, beautiful dick in Momma’s hot, hairy pussy. Oh, Micheal! Stick it in and fuck me. I’ve wanted this for so long.”I shoved my dick up in my mother as far as I could. Her heat and sweet creaminess was all the more delightful because it was forbidden. I was fucking my dear sweet mother, had my dick in her pussy, and I wanted to stay there for the rest of my life. Pumping my dick back and forth, in and out of Mom’s soft, wet twat, I heard the sucking sound that’s a soundtrack to sex. The sound itself turned me on even more. I looked down and watched Mom’s cuntlips cling to my dick. Her breathing was becoming quicker and uneven. I reached down and began sucking her rose-brown nipple while my hips continued driving my truck up her tunnel.I was sucking and fucking Mom enthusiastically, when I felt her start to spasm. She began moaning my name faster and faster, throwing her pussy up to meet my jabbing cock. Then she almost screamed, “Oh, God is Love! Micheal, fuck Mommy’s pussy. Oh, fuck Mommy’s wet hairy hole! I’m cumming! I’m CUMMMING!!”Pulling my mouth roughly off her tit, I straightened up and began kissing Mom’s mouth like we were horny kids in the backseat of a car. I pounded my cock in her cunt and French kissed her through her orgasm. When she was spent, I kept fucking her slowly. Her eyes looked into mine and widened. I smiled at her, kissed her lips briefly, and then, punctuating every word with a thrust of my dick into her honeypot, I said, “Mom, I hope you like what you started, because you’re mine now. I’m going to fuck you like you were my girlfriend from now on. Say it. Say this pussy is mine.”She put her hands on my biceps and wiggled her pussy from side to side as I slammed into it. “Oh, yes, darling. Mom’s yours now. Your Daddy’s gone, and you’re going to fill more than his shoes.” She laughed and then pulled herself up to my sweating body and began slapping her sopping cunt up to meet the rhythm of my dick. “Anytime you want to borrow a little of your Momma’s hot pussy, all you have to do is ask, sweetheart. All you have to do is ask.”Still fucking, but feeling my own orgasm rising, I laughed and said, “Why do I have to ask?”When I asked the question, Mom had been sucking on my right nipple. She pulled her face back and began running her fingers through my sweaty chest hair as my strokes in her steaming twat got faster and faster. “Because that’s the Law of Love,” she said. Just as I started shooting a huge load of cum up her gleefully incestuous cunt, Mom began chanting:“Give to every man who asks of you, and from him who would borrow of you, turn not away. Give to every man who asks of you, and from him who would borrow of you, turn not away. Give to every man who asks of you, and from him who would borrow of you, turn not away.”THE END
  2. My first time playing the role of mommy but I had a lot of fun, I hope you all enjoy!…
  3. We had been lovers only a week when she revealed her true intent. “I want you to belong to me, as my submissive.” I looked at her sadly and shook my head. “You know I can’t. I’m not submissive.” Her green eyes peered intently into mine. “I can teach you. I care about you Cat, and I think you need this.” I looked away nervously. “I’ve seen your other submissives,” I said. “‘Yes Mistress, whatever you say Mistress.’ I’m not like that, nor do I want to be. I don’t want to play silly games.” “That’s your inexperience speaking,” she said softly. “It takes a lot of strength to be a submissive — to adopt someone else’s will as your own, and it’s only a game if you make it one.” In some ways, what she offered was so appealing. From the moment I saw her and perceived her sadistic tendencies, I wanted her to use me. I wanted her to pinch me, slap me, bite me…to whip me until I broke; something about her made me think she could. I ached to feel the ecstasy of pain, of feeling alive. Her pleasure in it would only arouse me more. But I did not feel capable of being a submissive, subverting my own desires for hers. In the silence, I watched her. She was always in control, and the only time I saw her lose it was when she came, her head thrown back and her body arched against my tongue, low moans escaping from between her clenched teeth. The memory of those moments made me blush, and I looked away. But always perceptive, she knew what I was thinking. She leaned forward, and I glimpsed the firm round breasts beneath her sweater, their pink nipples firm and pointy; my pulse quickened. “Give it a week. If you don’t like it, we can stop.” I knew that she needed this, to dominate, and that if I did not agree, she would have to find someone else. “I’ll try,” I said. “But only if you belong to me as much as I belong to you.” She laughed. “I see I have a lot of work ahead of me. I can’t belong to you, but I won’t see anyone else while you are being trained.” It was not exactly what I wanted, but I suppose that was the first step in becoming a submissive – learning to accept what I was given. Danika — I mean Mistress Danika — told me to arrive at her place promptly at 10 a.m. I drove as fast as possible through the traffic but did not arrive until 10:08. I knocked on the door apprehensively. She opened the door. “You’re late.” she said coolly. I started to apologize as she pulled me inside. “Turn around,” she ordered. And pushed me against the door. “Are you dressed as I instructed?” I nodded. “Spread your legs.” I spread them apart as she checked to make sure I was not wearing panties and that I had on stockings and garters rather than the nylons which she abhorred. The air felt cool on my skin as she lifted my skirt. The coolness was followed by the hot sting of her riding crop slapping against my exposed cheeks. “One for each minute you made me wait. Count them.” I counted each one as it landed on my bare ass. The feeling was painful but so enlivening. My pinkened skin tingled, and I moaned. “You’re such a slutty Cat,” she muttered in my ear. “Face me.” I turned around and gasped. She was dressed head to toe in shiny leather. Her breasts spilled over a black bustier, and I longed to lick them as I had in the past. Her legs were encased in long leather boots with spiked heels, and I could see her thighs just peeking out at the top, beneath the hem of her tight skirt. I imagined those legs wrapped around my waist as I ground my clit against hers; another command brought me out of my fantasy. “Kneel down and lick my boots.” The thought of licking anyone’s shoes was repugnant to me, but remembering our agreement, I obeyed. I licked until I was sure I had coated the entire boot before she allowed me to stop. “Now lick my pussy with that sweet tongue.” She grasped my head and pushed it between her legs. I began to devour her eagerly, my tongue thrusting inside to lap at her cream. She grasped my hair and pulled my head back, gazing into my eyes. “Who do you belong to?” she asked. “I belong to you,” I whispered. Her grip on my brown tresses tightened; “Always refer to me as Mistress Danika. Let’s try again. Who do you belong to?” “I belong to Mistress Danika.” She smiled for the first time since I arrived, and I wanted to feel those soft lips pressing against mine. As if reading my mind, she leaned forward and kissed me. Her lips parted mine, and her tongue caressed them, sliding into my mouth where it slid against my tongue. I sucked her tongue gently, like a small cock, and she began thrusting it in and out. “You’re such a good Cat,” she murmured. She slipped a cold chain collar about my neck and fastened it with a small key, which she set on the table.cum inside sex story “Take off your clothes.” Although we had been lovers, I felt awkward undressing as she watched me, her eyes following every movement but revealing nothing. “Come and kneel on the bed.” I perched on all fours in the middle of the bed, and heard her take opening a drawer. “I love to spank slutty girls,” she said. I felt the whack of a wooden hairbrush against my ass and gasped. This was followed by several more until I felt tender and bruised. Still I had not cried out. “Your ass is so nice and pink now… and this will be so pretty buried inside.” She held up a thick black dildo for me to inspect. “Suck this good, because you’re the one who’s going to feel it if you don’t.” “Yes Mistress Danika.” I opened my mouth, and she watched as I gave the plastic cock a blow job; she pushed it deep into my throat until I gagged. “Just like a real man,” she chuckled. When she felt I had lubricated it sufficiently, she stood behind me. I winced as she pushed it into my tight hole; it slid in stiffly, and I could feel my skin stretching as she shoved it deeper. I started to move away, but her fingernails dug into the bruised flesh of my ass, and I stopped. “Fuck it.” she said. I started to rock back and forth, thrusting against the shaft as she held it. The pain dissipated and I cried out in intense pleasure as it rubbed against my anus. “Don’t come,” Mistress Danika warned. As I rocked, my nipples stroked against the sheets; my thighs were sticky from the juice dripping from my pussy. “You like this don’t you Cat?” “Mmm, yes.” I smiled. Suddenly she stopped, but did not remove the dildo. “Stand up.” I stood up stiffly, each movement reminding me of the plastic cock filling my ass. She pulled one hand above my head and fastened it to a chain suspended from a ring in the ceiling. She did the same with the other, and I was forced to stand on tiptoe or suffer the discomfort of having my arms stretched beyond their usual limit. In front of me now, she put silver clamps on each of my long, hard nipples, fastening them tightly. The sharp pain brought tears to my eyes, but I blinked them away. There was a cock ring suspended from a chain dangling between the two nipple clamps. She looped this over a second dildo and slid it into my very wet, shaved cunt. “Don’t drop this, and I’ll make you crawl around the room with it in your teeth, like a bad puppy.” My nipples were slightly swollen and engorged both from my own arousal and the tightness of the clamps. The pain was bittersweet; when Mistress Danika bowed her head and bit one of my ruby-colored tips, I nearly screamed from the mixture of pain and pleasure. Her eyes looked cruel but sexy, and I could tell my torment was inflaming her. “I can’t decide whether to gag you or listen to you scream.” she mused. “I will not scream,” I asserted. “Oh but you will,” she replied and raised her arm for the first lash. It landed across my back; the leather felt like a million tiny mouths biting into my flesh. I moaned. “You’re enjoying this too much, slut!” and she lashed again, harder. The whip contacted my skin with a loud crack, and soon they formed a steady rhythm, interspersed with my soft moans. I started to sweat, as my body felt suffused in heat. “You’re tougher than I thought.” She stopped whipping, and I sighed in relief. My back was throbbing, and I didn’t know how much longer I would be able to bear. I was shocked when the lash of a stronger whip landed across my shoulders and I jerked away, causing the clamps to pull fiercely on my sore nipples. “Ah!” I exclaimed. “What did you say Cat?” she was nearly laughing now, and as another blow struck my thighs, I repeated my small outburst. She went on, relentlessly. “Cry, damn it! Let it out!”sex taboo sextingI bit my lip and tasted warm blood in my mouth. “You bitch!” I screamed at her furiously. “Let me go!” The pain was almost more than I could bear, and I knew if she did not release me, I would break down crying. She stood in front of me, and raising her arms let the whip fall across my heaving breasts. I cried then, long harsh sobs, releasing all my pain and rage. I don’t remember her unfastening my bonds or removing the nipple clamps. But I remember her holding me close, her cool hands soothing my crisscrossed back. Her lips pressing tenderly against my face. “My sweet Cat,” she whispered comfortingly, as I cried. Her lips found mine, and I kissed her eagerly. She caressed me gently, and I whimpered as her fingers pressed in little circles against my mound. She stroked it firmly, and my whole body quivered. I needed to come. “Mistress Danika,” I pleaded. “May I come?” As my eyes met her, she smiled. “Yes Cat. Come for me.” “Oh god!” I exclaimed as the most intense orgasm I ever experienced washed over me. I felt weak and drowsy. “You aren’t finished yet,” she said, and straddled my face. Her wetness inflamed me; it thrilled me to know I could arouse her so. I licked her eagerly, stroking her button with my tongue, sucking it into my mouth and nibbling gently. I slid a finger into her soaking cunt and drew the moistness to her ass. I slid it inside her, and she thrust furiously against my tongue. With my other hand, I tugged at her nipple, pulling and twisting it; with a groan, she flooded my face with her cream, and Cat that I am, I drank eagerly. I strive to deserve the love of my Mistress; she has taught me a lot about submission, as well as friendship and happiness. I will never forsake her, and while she does not belong to me, I am grateful for the gift of her love and her domination. It is only beneath the crack of her whip that I become truly free.
  4. We had been lovers only a week when she revealed her true intent. “I want you to belong to me, as my submissive.” I looked at her sadly and shook my head. “You know I can’t. I’m not submissive.” Her green eyes peered intently into mine. “I can teach you. I care about you Cat, and I think you need this.” I looked away nervously. “I’ve seen your other submissives,” I said. “‘Yes Mistress, whatever you say Mistress.’ I’m not like that, nor do I want to be. I don’t want to play silly games.” “That’s your inexperience speaking,” she said softly. “It takes a lot of strength to be a submissive — to adopt someone else’s will as your own, and it’s only a game if you make it one.” In some ways, what she offered was so appealing. From the moment I saw her and perceived her sadistic tendencies, I wanted her to use me. I wanted her to pinch me, slap me, bite me…to whip me until I broke; something about her made me think she could. I ached to feel the ecstasy of pain, of feeling alive. Her pleasure in it would only arouse me more. But I did not feel capable of being a submissive, subverting my own desires for hers. In the silence, I watched her. She was always in control, and the only time I saw her lose it was when she came, her head thrown back and her body arched against my tongue, low moans escaping from between her clenched teeth. The memory of those moments made me blush, and I looked away. But always perceptive, she knew what I was thinking. She leaned forward, and I glimpsed the firm round breasts beneath her sweater, their pink nipples firm and pointy; my pulse quickened. “Give it a week. If you don’t like it, we can stop.” I knew that she needed this, to dominate, and that if I did not agree, she would have to find someone else. “I’ll try,” I said. “But only if you belong to me as much as I belong to you.” She laughed. “I see I have a lot of work ahead of me. I can’t belong to you, but I won’t see anyone else while you are being trained.” It was not exactly what I wanted, but I suppose that was the first step in becoming a submissive – learning to accept what I was given. Danika — I mean Mistress Danika — told me to arrive at her place promptly at 10 a.m. I drove as fast as possible through the traffic but did not arrive until 10:08. I knocked on the door apprehensively. She opened the door. “You’re late.” she said coolly. I started to apologize as she pulled me inside. “Turn around,” she ordered. And pushed me against the door. “Are you dressed as I instructed?” I nodded. “Spread your legs.” I spread them apart as she checked to make sure I was not wearing panties and that I had on stockings and garters rather than the nylons which she abhorred. The air felt cool on my skin as she lifted my skirt. The coolness was followed by the hot sting of her riding crop slapping against my exposed cheeks. “One for each minute you made me wait. Count them.” I counted each one as it landed on my bare ass. The feeling was painful but so enlivening. My pinkened skin tingled, and I moaned. “You’re such a slutty Cat,” she muttered in my ear. “Face me.” I turned around and gasped. She was dressed head to toe in shiny leather. Her breasts spilled over a black bustier, and I longed to lick them as I had in the past. Her legs were encased in long leather boots with spiked heels, and I could see her thighs just peeking out at the top, beneath the hem of her tight skirt. I imagined those legs wrapped around my waist as I ground my clit against hers; another command brought me out of my fantasy. “Kneel down and lick my boots.” The thought of licking anyone’s shoes was repugnant to me, but remembering our agreement, I obeyed. I licked until I was sure I had coated the entire boot before she allowed me to stop. “Now lick my pussy with that sweet tongue.” She grasped my head and pushed it between her legs. I began to devour her eagerly, my tongue thrusting inside to lap at her cream. She grasped my hair and pulled my head back, gazing into my eyes. “Who do you belong to?” she asked. “I belong to you,” I whispered. Her grip on my brown tresses tightened; “Always refer to me as Mistress Danika. Let’s try again. Who do you belong to?” “I belong to Mistress Danika.” She smiled for the first time since I arrived, and I wanted to feel those soft lips pressing against mine. As if reading my mind, she leaned forward and kissed me. Her lips parted mine, and her tongue caressed them, sliding into my mouth where it slid against my tongue. I sucked her tongue gently, like a small cock, and she began thrusting it in and out. “You’re such a good Cat,” she murmured. She slipped a cold chain collar about my neck and fastened it with a small key, which she set on the table.cum inside sex story “Take off your clothes.” Although we had been lovers, I felt awkward undressing as she watched me, her eyes following every movement but revealing nothing. “Come and kneel on the bed.” I perched on all fours in the middle of the bed, and heard her take opening a drawer. “I love to spank slutty girls,” she said. I felt the whack of a wooden hairbrush against my ass and gasped. This was followed by several more until I felt tender and bruised. Still I had not cried out. “Your ass is so nice and pink now… and this will be so pretty buried inside.” She held up a thick black dildo for me to inspect. “Suck this good, because you’re the one who’s going to feel it if you don’t.” “Yes Mistress Danika.” I opened my mouth, and she watched as I gave the plastic cock a blow job; she pushed it deep into my throat until I gagged. “Just like a real man,” she chuckled. When she felt I had lubricated it sufficiently, she stood behind me. I winced as she pushed it into my tight hole; it slid in stiffly, and I could feel my skin stretching as she shoved it deeper. I started to move away, but her fingernails dug into the bruised flesh of my ass, and I stopped. “Fuck it.” she said. I started to rock back and forth, thrusting against the shaft as she held it. The pain dissipated and I cried out in intense pleasure as it rubbed against my anus. “Don’t come,” Mistress Danika warned. As I rocked, my nipples stroked against the sheets; my thighs were sticky from the juice dripping from my pussy. “You like this don’t you Cat?” “Mmm, yes.” I smiled. Suddenly she stopped, but did not remove the dildo. “Stand up.” I stood up stiffly, each movement reminding me of the plastic cock filling my ass. She pulled one hand above my head and fastened it to a chain suspended from a ring in the ceiling. She did the same with the other, and I was forced to stand on tiptoe or suffer the discomfort of having my arms stretched beyond their usual limit. In front of me now, she put silver clamps on each of my long, hard nipples, fastening them tightly. The sharp pain brought tears to my eyes, but I blinked them away. There was a cock ring suspended from a chain dangling between the two nipple clamps. She looped this over a second dildo and slid it into my very wet, shaved cunt. “Don’t drop this, and I’ll make you crawl around the room with it in your teeth, like a bad puppy.” My nipples were slightly swollen and engorged both from my own arousal and the tightness of the clamps. The pain was bittersweet; when Mistress Danika bowed her head and bit one of my ruby-colored tips, I nearly screamed from the mixture of pain and pleasure. Her eyes looked cruel but sexy, and I could tell my torment was inflaming her. “I can’t decide whether to gag you or listen to you scream.” she mused. “I will not scream,” I asserted. “Oh but you will,” she replied and raised her arm for the first lash. It landed across my back; the leather felt like a million tiny mouths biting into my flesh. I moaned. “You’re enjoying this too much, slut!” and she lashed again, harder. The whip contacted my skin with a loud crack, and soon they formed a steady rhythm, interspersed with my soft moans. I started to sweat, as my body felt suffused in heat. “You’re tougher than I thought.” She stopped whipping, and I sighed in relief. My back was throbbing, and I didn’t know how much longer I would be able to bear. I was shocked when the lash of a stronger whip landed across my shoulders and I jerked away, causing the clamps to pull fiercely on my sore nipples. “Ah!” I exclaimed. “What did you say Cat?” she was nearly laughing now, and as another blow struck my thighs, I repeated my small outburst. She went on, relentlessly. “Cry, damn it! Let it out!”sex taboo sextingI bit my lip and tasted warm blood in my mouth. “You bitch!” I screamed at her furiously. “Let me go!” The pain was almost more than I could bear, and I knew if she did not release me, I would break down crying. She stood in front of me, and raising her arms let the whip fall across my heaving breasts. I cried then, long harsh sobs, releasing all my pain and rage. I don’t remember her unfastening my bonds or removing the nipple clamps. But I remember her holding me close, her cool hands soothing my crisscrossed back. Her lips pressing tenderly against my face. “My sweet Cat,” she whispered comfortingly, as I cried. Her lips found mine, and I kissed her eagerly. She caressed me gently, and I whimpered as her fingers pressed in little circles against my mound. She stroked it firmly, and my whole body quivered. I needed to come. “Mistress Danika,” I pleaded. “May I come?” As my eyes met her, she smiled. “Yes Cat. Come for me.” “Oh god!” I exclaimed as the most intense orgasm I ever experienced washed over me. I felt weak and drowsy. “You aren’t finished yet,” she said, and straddled my face. Her wetness inflamed me; it thrilled me to know I could arouse her so. I licked her eagerly, stroking her button with my tongue, sucking it into my mouth and nibbling gently. I slid a finger into her soaking cunt and drew the moistness to her ass. I slid it inside her, and she thrust furiously against my tongue. With my other hand, I tugged at her nipple, pulling and twisting it; with a groan, she flooded my face with her cream, and Cat that I am, I drank eagerly. I strive to deserve the love of my Mistress; she has taught me a lot about submission, as well as friendship and happiness. I will never forsake her, and while she does not belong to me, I am grateful for the gift of her love and her domination. It is only beneath the crack of her whip that I become truly free.
  5. Part 1 – An Acquired Taste “So, honey, what did ya get me for my birthday this year?” Smiling, my…

Aali Kali Rousseau Milk 2

My wife is a gorgeous woman. At 40 only two things mar her petite little body. Stretch marks on her…

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There are laws, rules and morality in place to let a girl know and how to behave. The laws and…

Teenager secretly works in a glory hole booth. Her last visitor of the night has the perfect cock, but what’s the surprise? [glory hole] [daddy] [teen] [secret] [blowjob] [big dick] [orgasm] [sex] [Script fill] [request] [cum] [perfect cock] [father daughter audio sex story]

We had been lovers only a week when she revealed her true intent. “I want you to belong to me, as my submissive.” I looked at her sadly and shook my head. “You know I can’t. I’m not submissive.” Her green eyes peered intently into mine. “I can teach you. I care about you Cat, and I think you need this.” I looked away nervously. “I’ve seen your other submissives,” I said. “‘Yes Mistress, whatever you say Mistress.’ I’m not like that, nor do I want to be. I don’t want to play silly games.” “That’s your inexperience speaking,” she said softly. “It takes a lot of strength to be a submissive — to adopt someone else’s will as your own, and it’s only a game if you make it one.” In some ways, what she offered was so appealing. From the moment I saw her and perceived her sadistic tendencies, I wanted her to use me. I wanted her to pinch me, slap me, bite me…to whip me until I broke; something about her made me think she could. I ached to feel the ecstasy of pain, of feeling alive. Her pleasure in it would only arouse me more. But I did not feel capable of being a submissive, subverting my own desires for hers. In the silence, I watched her. She was always in control, and the only time I saw her lose it was when she came, her head thrown back and her body arched against my tongue, low moans escaping from between her clenched teeth. The memory of those moments made me blush, and I looked away. But always perceptive, she knew what I was thinking. She leaned forward, and I glimpsed the firm round breasts beneath her sweater, their pink nipples firm and pointy; my pulse quickened. “Give it a week. If you don’t like it, we can stop.” I knew that she needed this, to dominate, and that if I did not agree, she would have to find someone else. “I’ll try,” I said. “But only if you belong to me as much as I belong to you.” She laughed. “I see I have a lot of work ahead of me. I can’t belong to you, but I won’t see anyone else while you are being trained.” It was not exactly what I wanted, but I suppose that was the first step in becoming a submissive – learning to accept what I was given. Danika — I mean Mistress Danika — told me to arrive at her place promptly at 10 a.m. I drove as fast as possible through the traffic but did not arrive until 10:08. I knocked on the door apprehensively. She opened the door. “You’re late.” she said coolly. I started to apologize as she pulled me inside. “Turn around,” she ordered. And pushed me against the door. “Are you dressed as I instructed?” I nodded. “Spread your legs.” I spread them apart as she checked to make sure I was not wearing panties and that I had on stockings and garters rather than the nylons which she abhorred. The air felt cool on my skin as she lifted my skirt. The coolness was followed by the hot sting of her riding crop slapping against my exposed cheeks. “One for each minute you made me wait. Count them.” I counted each one as it landed on my bare ass. The feeling was painful but so enlivening. My pinkened skin tingled, and I moaned. “You’re such a slutty Cat,” she muttered in my ear. “Face me.” I turned around and gasped. She was dressed head to toe in shiny leather. Her breasts spilled over a black bustier, and I longed to lick them as I had in the past. Her legs were encased in long leather boots with spiked heels, and I could see her thighs just peeking out at the top, beneath the hem of her tight skirt. I imagined those legs wrapped around my waist as I ground my clit against hers; another command brought me out of my fantasy. “Kneel down and lick my boots.” The thought of licking anyone’s shoes was repugnant to me, but remembering our agreement, I obeyed. I licked until I was sure I had coated the entire boot before she allowed me to stop. “Now lick my pussy with that sweet tongue.” She grasped my head and pushed it between her legs. I began to devour her eagerly, my tongue thrusting inside to lap at her cream. She grasped my hair and pulled my head back, gazing into my eyes. “Who do you belong to?” she asked. “I belong to you,” I whispered. Her grip on my brown tresses tightened; “Always refer to me as Mistress Danika. Let’s try again. Who do you belong to?” “I belong to Mistress Danika.” She smiled for the first time since I arrived, and I wanted to feel those soft lips pressing against mine. As if reading my mind, she leaned forward and kissed me. Her lips parted mine, and her tongue caressed them, sliding into my mouth where it slid against my tongue. I sucked her tongue gently, like a small cock, and she began thrusting it in and out. “You’re such a good Cat,” she murmured. She slipped a cold chain collar about my neck and fastened it with a small key, which she set on the table.cum inside sex story “Take off your clothes.” Although we had been lovers, I felt awkward undressing as she watched me, her eyes following every movement but revealing nothing. “Come and kneel on the bed.” I perched on all fours in the middle of the bed, and heard her take opening a drawer. “I love to spank slutty girls,” she said. I felt the whack of a wooden hairbrush against my ass and gasped. This was followed by several more until I felt tender and bruised. Still I had not cried out. “Your ass is so nice and pink now… and this will be so pretty buried inside.” She held up a thick black dildo for me to inspect. “Suck this good, because you’re the one who’s going to feel it if you don’t.” “Yes Mistress Danika.” I opened my mouth, and she watched as I gave the plastic cock a blow job; she pushed it deep into my throat until I gagged. “Just like a real man,” she chuckled. When she felt I had lubricated it sufficiently, she stood behind me. I winced as she pushed it into my tight hole; it slid in stiffly, and I could feel my skin stretching as she shoved it deeper. I started to move away, but her fingernails dug into the bruised flesh of my ass, and I stopped. “Fuck it.” she said. I started to rock back and forth, thrusting against the shaft as she held it. The pain dissipated and I cried out in intense pleasure as it rubbed against my anus. “Don’t come,” Mistress Danika warned. As I rocked, my nipples stroked against the sheets; my thighs were sticky from the juice dripping from my pussy. “You like this don’t you Cat?” “Mmm, yes.” I smiled. Suddenly she stopped, but did not remove the dildo. “Stand up.” I stood up stiffly, each movement reminding me of the plastic cock filling my ass. She pulled one hand above my head and fastened it to a chain suspended from a ring in the ceiling. She did the same with the other, and I was forced to stand on tiptoe or suffer the discomfort of having my arms stretched beyond their usual limit. In front of me now, she put silver clamps on each of my long, hard nipples, fastening them tightly. The sharp pain brought tears to my eyes, but I blinked them away. There was a cock ring suspended from a chain dangling between the two nipple clamps. She looped this over a second dildo and slid it into my very wet, shaved cunt. “Don’t drop this, and I’ll make you crawl around the room with it in your teeth, like a bad puppy.” My nipples were slightly swollen and engorged both from my own arousal and the tightness of the clamps. The pain was bittersweet; when Mistress Danika bowed her head and bit one of my ruby-colored tips, I nearly screamed from the mixture of pain and pleasure. Her eyes looked cruel but sexy, and I could tell my torment was inflaming her. “I can’t decide whether to gag you or listen to you scream.” she mused. “I will not scream,” I asserted. “Oh but you will,” she replied and raised her arm for the first lash. It landed across my back; the leather felt like a million tiny mouths biting into my flesh. I moaned. “You’re enjoying this too much, slut!” and she lashed again, harder. The whip contacted my skin with a loud crack, and soon they formed a steady rhythm, interspersed with my soft moans. I started to sweat, as my body felt suffused in heat. “You’re tougher than I thought.” She stopped whipping, and I sighed in relief. My back was throbbing, and I didn’t know how much longer I would be able to bear. I was shocked when the lash of a stronger whip landed across my shoulders and I jerked away, causing the clamps to pull fiercely on my sore nipples. “Ah!” I exclaimed. “What did you say Cat?” she was nearly laughing now, and as another blow struck my thighs, I repeated my small outburst. She went on, relentlessly. “Cry, damn it! Let it out!”sex taboo sextingI bit my lip and tasted warm blood in my mouth. “You bitch!” I screamed at her furiously. “Let me go!” The pain was almost more than I could bear, and I knew if she did not release me, I would break down crying. She stood in front of me, and raising her arms let the whip fall across my heaving breasts. I cried then, long harsh sobs, releasing all my pain and rage. I don’t remember her unfastening my bonds or removing the nipple clamps. But I remember her holding me close, her cool hands soothing my crisscrossed back. Her lips pressing tenderly against my face. “My sweet Cat,” she whispered comfortingly, as I cried. Her lips found mine, and I kissed her eagerly. She caressed me gently, and I whimpered as her fingers pressed in little circles against my mound. She stroked it firmly, and my whole body quivered. I needed to come. “Mistress Danika,” I pleaded. “May I come?” As my eyes met her, she smiled. “Yes Cat. Come for me.” “Oh god!” I exclaimed as the most intense orgasm I ever experienced washed over me. I felt weak and drowsy. “You aren’t finished yet,” she said, and straddled my face. Her wetness inflamed me; it thrilled me to know I could arouse her so. I licked her eagerly, stroking her button with my tongue, sucking it into my mouth and nibbling gently. I slid a finger into her soaking cunt and drew the moistness to her ass. I slid it inside her, and she thrust furiously against my tongue. With my other hand, I tugged at her nipple, pulling and twisting it; with a groan, she flooded my face with her cream, and Cat that I am, I drank eagerly. I strive to deserve the love of my Mistress; she has taught me a lot about submission, as well as friendship and happiness. I will never forsake her, and while she does not belong to me, I am grateful for the gift of her love and her domination. It is only beneath the crack of her whip that I become truly free.

(What follows is a work of fiction. All readers must be over eighteen years of age. It is suggested that readers use their most open minds, but, since some have nothing resembling such, this cannot be made a requirement for enjoying the story. If you are one of those poor, unfortunate thinkers who have lost the key of acceptance and cannot open their minds, please don’t continue reading what you know will stir up your righteous indignation.)Chapter OneMy Dad made mistakes the year I was 18. He was a deputy sheriff in Oklahoma City. He was busted for dealing pounds of methamphetamine, and given thirty-five years. Because he was a lawman, he was put in solitary confinement. Putting ex-lawmen in solitary confinement is a clever way of letting the general prison population know they’re cops. I was just finishing the drawing I was going to send him for my 19 Christmas, when I found out he had beaten himself up and then hung himself in his cell at the prison at Lexington.Mom made some mistakes, too, but hers were more innocent…at least at first. After Dad beat himself to death, Mom grieved for about a year, about the appropriate time for a wife-beater who was wired all the time. Then she started dressing more attractively. She also started taking the stairs to and from the third-floor law office where she was a legal secretary. She had some extra weight to take off if she hoped to find a husband who wouldn’t take off, she said. When she fell down the stairs and broke her arm in seventeen places, her job as well as her motivation to exercise ceased.Mom had no choice. She was alone in Oklahoma City without a husband or a job. She also had a hungry, growing teenaged son. She packed our belongings in the back of her Ford Country Squire station wagon and drove us the one hundred and twenty miles from OKC to Hanging Tree, Oklahoma–the strangest smalltown in the world.Hanging Tree was named after a hanging tree that still stood–after two hundred proud years of evil–in the yard of the courthouse square in the center of the tiny town. The tree had been used for hanging in the previous century first by the “civilized” Native Americans then by the “cultured” European invaders. Ropes tied to its strongest and most accessible limb had ended hundreds of lives over the years. I thought the town was going to end my life without the courtesy of a noose.Mom moved us in with her widowed mother in a white clapboard house at the southskirts of Hanging Tree. From the moment we moved in, there was trouble. Trouble was named Stanley. Stanley was my cousin, but he wasn’t proud of that fact. To him, my father’s disgrace was mine and my mother’s as well. He was a thick-skulled, ex-Marine, 18 years older than I was, but he became my personal demon. He didn’t like the idea that Mom and I were living with his grandma, increasing her burden in her golden years. He loved his grandma. He respected his grandma like any good military man. When he came over and threatened to kill me if I didn’t leave, I told him to go fuck himself, so he decided to change tactics. That’s why he told Grandma Russell that I’d been having sex with my mother since Dad went to prison. It was his way of gently motivating his beloved grandmother to do the right thing and kick us out.I had just walked into the yard at Grandma’s house. I’d been across town at a friend’s house smoking pot. I loved the way pot made me feel, and the fact that it was illegal only made me feel closer to my dead Dad. Grandma was out in the yard, hanging washing on the clothes line. They liked hanging things in Hanging Tree. I had no idea my grandmother was waiting to hang me up for the rest of my life.As I walked into the yard, Grandma Russell said, “Micheal, come here! I want to talk to you!”She sounded serious, so I stopped in the yard and said, “What you want, Grandma?”She walked her bony, wrinkled ass, working her elbows for propulsion, and came quickly across the yard to where I stood by the gate. When she got two feet from me, she stopped, put one hand on a hip, and shook the index finger of her other hand in my face. Taken aback, I said, “What’s the deal, Grandma?”“Micheal Russell, have you been having sex with your mother?” The finger in my face wagged out each word. “Stanley was over here this morning and said you’ve been doing it with your mother ever since your father went to prison and died! If you have, you had just better confess your sin so I can pray for you!”I looked at her. I started to speak, but words wouldn’t come. I was shocked beyond tears or self-defense. From my 18-year-old viewpoint, I was living through a hell on earth. My father had been disgraced, imprisoned, and killed. My mother had disabled herself, and we’d had to move from Oklahoma City to a scab like Hanging Tree. I had been getting one or two pimples that made me self-conscious. We had no money, I had no friends, and now my grandmother was accusing me of fucking my mother!“No, Grandma! No! Christ!”“Don’t you use the name of the Savior in vain, young man. You’re in enough trouble with Heaven for having carnal knowledge of your own sweet mother and her with one bad arm!”“But I didn’t! I didn’t have sex with Mom! Grandma! Stanley’s lying! Why are you so quick to believe something like that just because my sick cousin Stanley says it’s so?”She looked at me with hidden disappointment dawning as she realized that it probably wasn’t true. She had been ready for a battle against the devil for my soul and Momma’s pussy. Now that she began to believe I was telling the truth (and at the time I was), she became embarrassed. But it was a strange embarrassment.Instead of acting as if she were embarrassed about what she had said, she acted as if she were naked in front of me. When a woman is simply apologizing for being irrational, she doesn’t cover her clothed breasts with her arm, or splay her hand over her clothed pussy. I was young, but I read a lot. I knew the signs, and there was no mistaking the look in Grandma’s eyes. She was as turned on as a cat in heat.She took the hand that had symbolically hidden her pussy and put it on my arm. She smiled at me and laid her head against my shoulder. I couldn’t believe what seemed to be happening. Then she removed any doubt. Putting her other hand on the bulge in the front of my jeans, my grandmother said, “Since your grandfather died, it seems like my old cunt does all my thinking for me.”The longer Grandma massaged my dick through my jeans, the more forgiving I became. “Your Mom is going to be in Tulsa till late tonight. Let’s go in the house,” she said. I was easily led.We went to her bedroom. She sat on the bed and pulled me close to her. With a wicked gleam dancing in her old eyes, Grandma undid my belt and fly, took out my rock-hard eight inches (the only thing Dad left me), and dove for it like a big-mouthed bass for a spinner. I’d never experienced the like before, but Grandma had. She knew just what to do, grabbing my ass, twirling the tip of her tongue around the head of my dick as it bobbed in and out of her mouth. In what seemed like moments, I was holding the back of Grandma’s head with both hands and squirting cum into her throat. She moaned as she sucked. My head was reeling from the orgasm and from the thought of what I was doing.When she’d sucked me dry, she sat back, wiped her lips, smiled at me and said, “Now…you may not be fucking your mother, but you can fuck your old grandma’s pussy if you want.” She pulled her feet up on the bed, pulled up the hem of her dress, spread her legs, and scooted her hips forward on the bed. I reached down and grabbed her panties and pulled them down her skinny thighs and off over her tiny feet. She reached down and spread her inner lips. My dick got hard again.I kneeled on the bed and positioned myself between her thighs. Grandma reached in the front of her dress and pulled out a long, hard-nippled breast. Then she reached between my legs and grabbed my cock. “Oh, God forgive me! Heaven knows I need this!” Then she put the head of my dick between her moist lips. She threw her arms around my lower back and slammed me into her sixty-year-old snatch. It was warm, and soft, and I was hooked.In the limited day to day evaluation of a teenage boy, I became quite fond of life in Hanging Tree. I went to school where I was a slightly shy new kid with few friends, but when I came home I had plenty of opportunities to relieve the day’s stresses. Every time Mom was out of the house, I’d fuck Grandma like we were newlyweds. I had her all over the house. She made me like the forbidden aspect of our lovemaking by being up front with her wickedness. Sometimes I’d worry about people coming to the door, because when I was sliding my big dick in and out of Grandma’s lush, withered cunt, she’d shout things like, “That’s it. That’s it, son! Fuck Grandma’s pussy hard! Oh, you grandmotherfucker!”Mom never let on that she knew. I found out that Grandma had told her soon after it began, but Mom played dumb. Then on the night of July 4th, 1979, Mom and Grandma started getting ready to go somewhere. I came in the house and went to the refrigerator to get a Dr. Pepper. I noticed them getting ready and asked where they were going.“You’re going too,” Grandma said. “Go get cleaned up some.”“Where am I going?” I asked Mom who came into the kitchen, asking me to zip her up. (Her right arm was still weak from the fall.)“We’re going to a special Bible study,” Mom said, smiling over her shoulder at me after I pulled the zipper to her neckline.“Ah, Mom. I don’t want to go to church.” We didn’t make it a habit of going to church. Dad had been a nonbeliever, and Mom hadn’t made a big thing of her beliefs if she had any. I had come to the conclusion that God was a story like Santa Claus that they told you to convince you to be good.With Mom standing right in front of me, smiling at me and working to put her earring on, Grandma walked right up to me and grabbed my bulge. She’d never done anything like that in front of Mom before. I looked at Mom’s face, expecting surprise, and saw only that kindly light she always shined at her only child. Grandma said, “You’ll like this Bible study, you hard-dicked sweetheart. Now go get ready!” She gave my bulge a squeeze that made me see stars. I went to comb my hair.It was indeed a “special” Bible study, but I wondered then, and I still wonder, how unique it was. Christianity, in its more fundamentalist forms, is a repressive disease that starves its practioners for sex. If there were no Christianity, there would be a hundred times less perversion. Christianity forces people to deny their sexuality until it bursts forth in slightly twisted eruptions. I wondered how many churches across the nation has special meetings that only the more sensual Biblethumpers attended.The Bible study was held at a house in the country. When we pulled up about sunset, there were six cars parked carelessly around the circular drive at the front of the expensive home. Grandma parked the station wagon, and we went inside.A beautiful blonde girl of about twelve years met us at the front door and escorted us to a large inner room. There were eleven people in the room. Our number would bring the total to a multiple of seven. I learned that this was thought to be important. The young blonde introduced us to the assembly by happily proclaiming, “The seventh family is here! Here they are! The seventh family is here.”The room was furnished with style. The walls were covered with bright abstract paintings and the leaves of potted plants set all around its perimeter. The open square of the center of the room was bordered by long, plush, white couches. We sat in one corner of the fence of couches, and a tall, thin, dark man in a black business suit stood and began addressing the congregation:“If you have known Love, you have known God,” said the deacon.“If you have known Love, you have known God,” we all repeated.The deacon strolled slowly around the inner square, smiling at each, acknowledging each, as he spoke:“This is a great occasion for us today. Last month we lost three of our members who moved to Los Angeles. We have done well, but there is only so much we can do if we lack the Holy Numbers. Now we have seven families represented by fourteen people. Our prayers will be mighty tonight, praise God.”“Praise God,” the congregation echoed.“I am called The Deacon. No one here uses their everyday name. This is a special meeting of true believers in God’s grace. We believe, as did the first century Christians, that nothing is wrong as long as it hurts no one and is done in true love. Our freedom, eroded by centuries of dogma, is the liberty of the Law of Love.“We all go to regular Fundamentalist churches because Fundamentalism is about all there is in Oklahoma. But this is our true place of worship. Here we thank God for the gift of our bodies. Here we live as we were created to live in shameless Eden.”At that, everyone stood. I’d only been to church once or twice in my life, but I remembered they were big about everybody doing everything together, standing together, sitting together, singing together. I stood. Then everyone started taking their clothes off. It was quiet, unhurried, almost reverent. Not until I saw Mom and Grandma, to my right and my left, disrobing did I come out of my amazement enough to do likewise.When everyone was naked, the Deacon took a seat on the couch. Then the women, all the women, stood and paraded in the center square. At first they said nothing, just walked around, every shape and size of women, every age from the twelve-year-old blonde to my sixtyish grandmother. I couldn’t take my eyes off my beautiful, big-boobed, brunette-bushed Mom. Since I had been wrongly accused of fucking her, fucking her was all I could think about. The mind is funny that way.Then, at a nod from the Deacon, the women stood together in a cluster, raised their prayerful hands to their lips, bowed their heads, and began chanting a Bible verse over and over–“Give to every man who asks of you, and from him who would borrow of you, turn not away.“Give to every man who asks of you, and from him who would borrow of you, turn not away…”Besides the Deacon, there were two other males in the room, a fat man with a grey beard and a skinny redheaded guy a few years older than me. They were all masturbating their cocks to get them hard. I didn’t have to.The women stopped chanting their Bible verses. Then Mom walked over to me, her big breasts swinging, still firm. She held her bad arm under her breasts. She got on her knees in front of me and said, “Be careful of my arm, darling.” Then she bowed her head again and took the head of my dick in her mouth.I was ecstatic. Nothing had ever felt as good. Looking down incredulously, I saw her beautiful hazel eyes smiling at me merrily as she sucked my big, thick dick into her pretty mouth. I began to rock my hips up and down, fucking her mouth. Her good hand crept up my thigh and squeezed my balls.“Oh, fuck this,” I said. I got up and set her where I’d been sitting. She was more beautiful to me, sitting there with her legs pulled back, smiling at her son about to fuck her, than anything I’d seen before or have seen since. I grabbed my throbbing dick in my right hand. I was going to fuck my mother! I was going to be a motherfucker just like I’d been accused of being. I was about as far from being ashamed of it as I could be. I felt like the luckiest guy in the world.I could feel the individual hairs of my mother’s hot cunt touching the head of my dick as I guided it between her fat, olive-pink pussylips. When I stuck the head in her hole, Mom cooed, “Oh, yes! Stick that big, beautiful dick in Momma’s hot, hairy pussy. Oh, Micheal! Stick it in and fuck me. I’ve wanted this for so long.”I shoved my dick up in my mother as far as I could. Her heat and sweet creaminess was all the more delightful because it was forbidden. I was fucking my dear sweet mother, had my dick in her pussy, and I wanted to stay there for the rest of my life. Pumping my dick back and forth, in and out of Mom’s soft, wet twat, I heard the sucking sound that’s a soundtrack to sex. The sound itself turned me on even more. I looked down and watched Mom’s cuntlips cling to my dick. Her breathing was becoming quicker and uneven. I reached down and began sucking her rose-brown nipple while my hips continued driving my truck up her tunnel.I was sucking and fucking Mom enthusiastically, when I felt her start to spasm. She began moaning my name faster and faster, throwing her pussy up to meet my jabbing cock. Then she almost screamed, “Oh, God is Love! Micheal, fuck Mommy’s pussy. Oh, fuck Mommy’s wet hairy hole! I’m cumming! I’m CUMMMING!!”Pulling my mouth roughly off her tit, I straightened up and began kissing Mom’s mouth like we were horny kids in the backseat of a car. I pounded my cock in her cunt and French kissed her through her orgasm. When she was spent, I kept fucking her slowly. Her eyes looked into mine and widened. I smiled at her, kissed her lips briefly, and then, punctuating every word with a thrust of my dick into her honeypot, I said, “Mom, I hope you like what you started, because you’re mine now. I’m going to fuck you like you were my girlfriend from now on. Say it. Say this pussy is mine.”She put her hands on my biceps and wiggled her pussy from side to side as I slammed into it. “Oh, yes, darling. Mom’s yours now. Your Daddy’s gone, and you’re going to fill more than his shoes.” She laughed and then pulled herself up to my sweating body and began slapping her sopping cunt up to meet the rhythm of my dick. “Anytime you want to borrow a little of your Momma’s hot pussy, all you have to do is ask, sweetheart. All you have to do is ask.”Still fucking, but feeling my own orgasm rising, I laughed and said, “Why do I have to ask?”When I asked the question, Mom had been sucking on my right nipple. She pulled her face back and began running her fingers through my sweaty chest hair as my strokes in her steaming twat got faster and faster. “Because that’s the Law of Love,” she said. Just as I started shooting a huge load of cum up her gleefully incestuous cunt, Mom began chanting:“Give to every man who asks of you, and from him who would borrow of you, turn not away. Give to every man who asks of you, and from him who would borrow of you, turn not away. Give to every man who asks of you, and from him who would borrow of you, turn not away.”THE END

“Wendy, I’ve told you before. You are NOT going out without a bra on, and that’s final,” said Wendy’s mother,…

My nineteen year old cousin DJ had been coming to spend two weeks with me during the summer ever since she was around six. It’s like a vacation for her. Since I’m a responsible hard working adult and have been since I was nineteen, her parents have always trusted me to take good care of her, and I always have. But this summer something totally unexpected happened.I had just finished helping her unpack and it was hot in the house so I got a cold beer out of the refrigerator and sat down on the couch in the living room to try and cool off. The next thing I know DJ tackles me from behind and drags me off of the couch and to the floor.“DJ,” I said. “Give me a few minutes to cool down before you attack me, OK?”She let me get back to my seat and then looked at me and grinned. “You must be getting old, Jim, if you’re tired already. All we’ve done was unpack. It’s not like we just ran a marathon.”“I am not getting old, you little pup! I’m only twenty seven!” And with that I dove off of the couch and took her down to the floor where I started tickling her without mercy. She’s always been very ticklish and the most sensitive part of her body was her sides. Just wriggle your fingers at her and she starts laughing.I finally stop to let her catch her breath and then it happens. She’s laying on her back in the floor with me on my knees between her legs and she looks up at me and grins. For the first time I notice that she’s not a little girl anymore. She’s turned into a beautiful young lady. She’s around five foot five with long blond hair, a slim athletic body, and small but very firm looking breasts. My mind started seeing things that it shouldn’t, so in order to take my mind off the incestuous visions it was harboring, I started tickling her again. Very quickly it turned into a good-natured wrestling match, and since she was my favorite person in the world, I let her win by pinning my shoulders to the floor.She was straddling me with both hands holding my shoulders down. The only thing separating our crotches was her blue-jean shorts and my sweat pants, and my sweats were doing nothing to hide the evidence of what I was thinking. DJ scooted a little father up to get a better hand hold on my shoulders and my hard-on brushed against her inner thigh, causing her to look down.She didn’t jump up, like I thought she would, and flee in disgust. Instead she looked into my eyes and smiled. “Did I do that to you, Jimmy?”Slightly embarrassed at my situation, I said the first thing that popped in my head, “Well it wasn’t the Easter Bunny, that’s for sure.”Then, to my surprise, she reached down and wrapped her hand around my shaft and started stroking me through my sweats.“I’ve never seen one before,” she said, as her hand moved up and down my enlarged cock. “Can I see yours?”With her still sitting astride of me and slowly stroking my dick, what else could I say?“Sure. But you can’t tell anyone or I’ll get in big trouble.”“O.k.” So I take off my sweat pants and am now totally naked with my gorgeous teenage cousin sitting right beside of me. Without saying a word she reaches out to continue stroking my cock, only this time it’s skin on skin. Then she lowers her head and slowly takes my dick into her mouth and begins sucking! I started to ask where she learned to do that if she was a virgin, then I remembered the large collection of porno tapes that her daddy had, so I leaned back and enjoyed the sensation of having this beautiful girl give me a blow job. After a few minutes I couldn’t hold back any more and told her that I was about to cum. She took my dick out of her mouth and started jacking me off as I shot my load all over her t-shirt.Cousin sex stories“Have you ever had an orgasm before, DJ?” I asked.“Only when I play with myself,”“Take your clothes off and I’ll show you how good an orgasm can really feel.”She took off her shirt and shorts, then I stopped her so that I could take off her bra and panties. As I reached around to unhook the bra, I bent my head over and began kissing her neck, then turned my attention to her small, erect nipples as the bra slipped to the floor. As I gently licked and sucked first one nipple then the other I slipped her panties past her thighs and she kicked them off. By now she was breathing heavy, but I wasn’t through yet. With one hand I cupped her mound and slowly slipped one finger between her pussy lips until I found her swollen clit, which I slowly began to rub.She was moaning and panting so fast that she was barely able to breath the words that I wanted so badly for her to say, “Please fuck me, Jimmy!”I didn’t need to be asked twice. I picked her up and carried her to my bedroom down the hall and lay her on the bed. I leaned down and kissed her, our tongues wrapping around each other, as I slowly and very, very gently entered her incredibly tight and hot pussy. I went slow until the initial sting of her hymen being broke had passed. Then with each thrust I went a little faster and a little harder until we were both in a frenzy of motion. Each time I went in to the hilt she would moan and squeal.“Ungh, ungh… oh yes! That… feels… sooo… gooood!”I felt her muscles tightening up even more as her orgasm approached, making my cock feel like it was in a hot, wet vice, and that triggered my own orgasm. I didn’t think that I would ever stop cumming!Finally after we had caught our breath, DJ kissed me tenderly on the lips and asked, “Can we do that again?”Needless to say that that was the best (and most exhausting) two weeks of my life.

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