http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/BritSlut/www/ 

 

Britslut’s

Slutty Stories

  

Britslut is a (semi-)respectable married Englishwoman in her (late) forties. My kids have grown up and left home and my husband used to work away a lot. I have dark fantasies which were taking up too much of my time. I found that writing them down was a good way of exorcising them. Do I wish that the things I write about will happen, or had happened, to me? I don't know ... in another life maybe. Anyway I hope that they will strike a chord with some of you out there.

  

Comments welcome to - nice ones only!

  

All stories © Copyright britslut 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009. No re-use allowed without permission. 

 

These stories deal with all sorts of nasty things your mother wouldn’t want you to read (unless she was like me): things like incest, under-age sex, lesbianism, etc. You have been warned.

  

Stories

(most recent at the top)

Showing More (sequel to Showing )

Anticipation

Stepmum

Play |  ­ Prize |  ­ Advancement |  ­ Gang |  ­ Problems |  ­ Showing |  ­ Pick-Up |  ­ Kirsten |  ­ Experiment |  ­ Pictures |  ­ P   is   for   Park |  ­ Visitor |  ­ DTs |  ­ Limits |  ­ UFOs (UnFinished Objects) |  ­ Massage |  ­ Julie ’ s Story |  ­Shower |  ­ Trance |  ­ Marriage |  ­ Advert |  ­ Mrs Jekyll and Ms Hyde |  ­ Strangers |  ­ Aliens |  ­ Paula |  ­ Sons and Lovers   (sequel to  Laundry ) |  ­ Laundry |  ­ Hobby |  ­ Ishtar   |  ­ Photographing Fairies   |  ­ MILF   |  ­Awakening   |  ­ Socks 2   |  ­ Trains   |  ­ Socks   |  ­ Rain   |  ­ Daughters   |  ­ Fence   |  ­ Maths   |  ­ Neighbours   |  ­ Boyfriend   |  ­ Career   |  ­ Cone  | ­ Fairy Story   |  ­ Dream Husband   |  ­ Pupil–7: Graduation   |  ­ Egg   |  ­ Pupil–6   |  ­Pupil–5   |  ­ Teen Climax   |  ­ Congestion   |  ­ A Walk in the Woods   |  ­ Pupil–4   |  ­ Pupil–3   |  Facing   |  ­ Pupil–2   |  Pupil–1   |  ­ Queen   |  One of Us   |  ­ Comfort   |  ­ Competition   (sequel to  Cuddling )   |  ­ Dance   |  ­ Worship   |  ­Punishment   |  ­ Camping   |  ­ Cuddling   |  ­ The Babysitter   |  ­ Veggies   |  ­ Dirty Weekend   |  ­ Police   |  ­ Guest   |  ­ Kate

 

The girl at the party was younger than me, slinky and sultry-eyed. She had been watching me for a while before she spoke.

‘You’re making my cunt drip.’

‘I’m pretty wet myself.’

‘See this fist? You’ll be coming around that within an hour. And it’ll be inside you all night. By morning you’ll be begging me to keep it in forever.’

I was, and it was. And I begged.

‘Good, my husband’s gone to bed,’ I said, pushing him against the wall and unbuttoning his flies. ‘I’m going to suck you off at least five times until your balls are completely empty. The first couple of times you’ll fill my mouth with spunk, the third time there’ll only be a few drops, and then you’ll be coming dry. That’s when it gets really intense. You might want to bite on something to keep quiet. If you’re lucky I’ll even get a sixth orgasm out of you. Your cock will be sore afterwards but it’ll be worth it, believe me.’

She lies limp and sweaty in her husband’s arms, her heart still beating fast from the draining orgasms. For the last few hours she has worshipped his cock in every way that she can, forcing it deep into her body, bruising her membranes. Her throat, vagina and anus have been reamed and pounded again and again, and then filled with the hot balm of his sperm. Her nipples and clitoris are on fire, her lips and labia swollen. Her hunger for him sometimes frightens her. ‘Oh my love,’ she whispers, ‘I wish I had more holes for you to fuck.’

I found my friends on the stone steps at the top of the garden, naked and relaxed. She sat between his legs, on the next step down, leaning back against his chest, her long thighs spread wide. He caressed her full breasts gently. I imagined his erection pressing against her spine. A trickle of cloudy liquid had flowed from her florid, open vagina down across the dark marble. As I watched, another thick pulse of whiteness oozed out. She looked at me with a cool, faintly ironic smile. ‘It’s not his spunk, you know. We’re waiting until I’m empty again.’

Maria phoned me excitedly. ‘Quick, come on over! I’ve got a treat for you!’

I dropped everything and dashed down the road. My sister-in-law’s treats would not wait. She was sitting in the lounge, naked, legs crossed, eyes sparkling. 

‘I wanked him for ages before I let him spurt,’ she said. ‘It felt like pints. Hurry, I can’t hold it much longer.’

I lay on my back and she carefully straddled my face. Her florid, glistening pussy kissed my open mouth, and she released a flood of hot creamy sperm. I gulped it down with a shiver of forbidden ecstasy. 

I was the last to finish my lunch in the restaurant. The waitress, a leggy girl with pouting red lips and ragged brown hair, whom I had been watching all through the meal, came over and bent forward to clear the table. The neckline of her loose dress sagged, confirming what I had suspected, that she was naked under it. I gazed at her pointed breasts and dark pubic tuft.

‘Is there anything else you would like, Madam?’ she asked in a soft voice.

‘Yes.’ I said. She smiled and went to lock the door and pull down the blinds.

One girl was lingering in the changing room, a pert-bodied little beauty, just the sort I like. Being a teacher, of course, I can’t do anything about it.

‘Come on, Samantha, hurry up.’

‘Don’t get rid of me, miss,’ she purred. ‘You know you want me.’ She turned to the wall and thrust her micro-skirted bottom at me. ‘Don’t you want to feel my bum, push my thong aside, stick your fingers in my hot juicy teenage pussy, lick my tight little arsehole? I cleaned it specially.’

‘You know I do,’ I groaned.

‘I like being fisted, too,’ she said.

The boy gives a grunt as my husband’s cock slides into his anus, spearing him deeply. His pelvis jerks forward and pushes his own cock further into my mouth. I suck hard, keeping the boy in position so that my husband can fuck him. I hold his hips, and my husband’s hands cover mine as he gets into his rhythm. My mouth slides back and forth in synchrony. Both men climax together, the boy filling my mouth with a huge quantity of sperm. I imagine my husband’s own emissions spurting straight through the lad’s body and down my throat.

Sitting outside the café with my new date, resting my feet on the chair. He sees that I am not wearing panties, and smiles. His arm slides under my thigh, his fingers stroke my shaven, tingling, eager labia. Fingers slide into my hot wet slit. Hurry up, I think, you can’t imagine how horny I am. He spreads my entrance, finally reaches my G-spot. I part my thighs a little. People are looking but I don’t care. Quickly he brings me to a fierce orgasm. Creamy woman-juice spurts out onto his palm. He licks it off slowly, holding my eyes.

In the club, on the pull, my friend whispers to me ‘Let’s pretend we’re lesbians, blokes get off on that.’ We dance and kiss, awkwardly at first, then full deep tonguing. I find I can’t keep my hands off her. My pussy grows moist.

Urgently we dash to the toilets, squeeze into a cubicle. Hands up each other’s skirts, we climax quickly, fiercely, mouths locked together. Then we do it again, slower, more tenderly.

Back on the dance floor, now naked under our microskirts, thighs slick with juice, she whispers to me, ‘Let’s just go home and cum all night.’

Standing by the fence chatting to my neighbour. Husband is sitting next to me, hidden. I feel his hand creeping up my leg, under my sundress. He reaches my bare pussy and starts to explore my swollen lips. Fingers slide into me. We fucked earlier and I’m still full of spunk. It’s hard to keep my voice steady as he pushes more and more up me. I part my thighs. I give a gasp as his whole hand slips into my liquid hotness. His fist massages my G-spot. 

‘Are you OK?’ my neighbour says, concerned.

‘Oh yes, never felt better!’

All day I am restless, unable to stop crossing and uncrossing my thighs. I can feel my pussy lips swelling, engorging, opening like a flower. The membranes of my tunnel tingle with anticipation, the muscles quivering, pulsing, wanting to grip. Moisture oozes out of me, soaking into the cotton gusset of my panties. On the bus I can hardly contain myself - my pussy is gaping, hungry, clutching at emptiness. I tear through the front door, discarding my skirt, ripping my panties. He squats on a chair, erect, poised, waiting just for me, black, shining, impossibly huge. My new dildo.

She was standing at the sink, her tall wiry body clad only in bra and thong.  Her pert muscular buttocks, cleft excitingly by the white strap, silently invited me to slide a well-lubricated dildo between them. I did so, holding the thong out of the way. She grunted as I found, penetrated, and stretched her sphincter, bracing herself against the worktop. Her legs stiffened and she pushed her arse against my thrust. With my free hand I cupped the already-wet crotch of her thong.

‘I want it really deep today,’ she said with a catch in her voice. 

I obeyed.

I am waiting for my older sister when she returns. I stare at her in wonder - she is even more glutinous than usual. Her whole head and shoulders are covered with a thick layer of milky white; globules of it ooze down her face; her T-shirt clings wetly to her breasts. 

‘How many this time?’ I ask.

‘About a hundred, I think.’

She grins at me through her mask of semen. I start to kiss her face thirstily, running my fingers through her sticky, slippery hair.

‘You should come along next time,’ she says. ‘I’ll tell them you’re 18.’

Standing at the barrier at the concert, swaying with the crowd. His hands around my waist, big cock in my back. I am prepared with a tiny skirt, no panties, 6-inch heels to make me the right height. My arse and his cock lubed and ready. When the urge is too strong I tip my hips, he bends, pushes into me, filling my passage. We hardly move, just pulse with the music. His fingers stroking my clit slowly. Those around us oblivious. As the encore climaxes so do we, screaming our release. I fart jism all the way home, laughing.

I hear the telltale sound of the Parents leaving for their regular Saturday-morning shopping trip. I know they’ll take about 3 hours, and so does He. I slip off my nightie and wait, trembling with excitement and apprehension. I check my pussy and anus to make sure they are properly lubricated, because He doesn’t waste time once He starts. I wonder whether He should find me curled up and hot under the duvet, or spreadeagled on the bare sheet. I wonder too if He has come since last weekend, or whether He has been saving it all up for me.

My sister had brought along Melanie, a young black girl, slender and doe-eyed, in a short cotton dress. Submissively, the child gave me a shy smile, turned her back, bent forward and touched her toes. The tendons in her legs tensed excitingly. My sister lifted Melanie’s dress and pulled her small brown buttocks apart to reveal her anus, a coal-black star.

‘She’s very clean,’ my sister said.

I knelt and inserted my tongue, worming it in as far as I could. The girl squeezed it tenderly.

‘Would you like to go home with Auntie Gina and play?’ my sister asked.

My daughter called me into her bedroom once her boyfriend had left. She was slumped limply in the corner, her legs splayed. Her thin blue dress, pushed up to her waist, was torn away from one breast. Her mouth was open as though still receiving a cock. The hole cut in her tights revealed her red and swollen pussy, newly shaved, newly and heavily fucked. Long ropes of semen covered her from crotch to neck, darkening the fabric. He was easily the most copious of all her boyfriends.

‘Oh mum, I think he loves me,’ she whispered with a smile.

My sister-in-law crept into my bedroom, naked and lithe. ‘I fucked him to sleep,’ she whispered. Carefully she climbed onto the bed and straddled my head, positioning her bare pussy over my face. Her brown crinkly labia gaped excitingly. Her anus was big and dark, well-stretched over the years. She gave a little moan. I saw the muscles in her loins relax and a thick rope of spunk flowed out of her and into my waiting mouth. When she had emptied all her load, I swallowed deeply.

‘I bet you’ve missed that,’ she chuckled. ‘Does he still taste the same?’

After the wedding, I got the happy couple on one side and hugged them.

‘There’s something I must tell you both. Cherie, my brother and I have been fucking since we were 15. We’ve had every sort of sex you can imagine in the last 30 years. In fact, we shagged this morning while you were at the hairdressers.

‘Bob, Cherie and I have been lovers since we were 12. We’ve done everything that two females can do together. We spent last night in each others’ arms.

‘So I’m glad you two have married. We’ll make a very nice threesome.’

I met her in the park, as arranged. Without speaking she lifted the hem of her tennis skirt to reveal her small white cotton panties. She made a tiny noise and gave a slight shiver. I saw the crotch of her panties turn transparent, and then a gush of clear liquid burst through the fabric and ran in twisting rivulets down her legs. Her body trembled with the ecstatic release of pressure in her bladder. When she had finished, she let her skirt fall and walked away, leaving a puddle on the hot tarmac and a line of wet footprints.

I found her in another room, on her own - a tall elegant young black woman. Her mouth was full and her lips swollen, as though she had been fellating for a long time. Her silk dress, deep black against the brown sheen of her skin, left one impossibly pert breast bare. There was a large splash of creamy sperm on its upper curve; a long string of whiteness dangled from her fiercely erect nipple.

She looked at me coolly. ‘You want to lick it off, don’t you?’ she said in a low voice that sent shivers down my spine.Pupil - 3

© Copyright britslut 2005. No re-use allowed without permission.

 

I called Carla to my rooms at 3 pm, and she turned up dead on time, as usual, looking excited and eager. I think she was surprised not to find me in my usual ‘uniform’ – instead I just wore a loose sleeveless dress with no stockings or jewellery. There was a reason for this, as I had only just had time to put it on.

 

I kissed the girl tenderly on her soft lips, running my hands gently over her trembling body, up under her loose T shirt and minuscule skirt. As ever when visiting me, she wore no underwear. Her nipples were hard and proud and her slit was moist with juice. I stroked her clit with a finger and she shivered with delight.

 

‘Are you ready to lick my puss and my arse, Carla?’ I asked.

 

‘Oh yes, please!’ the teenager said. ‘I want to taste your sex juice and stick my tongue right inside your holes!’

 

‘I hope you’re feeling thirsty then.’

 

‘Oh yes, I want to drink all your juice, please!’

 

‘Undress me then,’ I ordered.

 

With trembling fingers Carla unzipped the back of my dress and eased it off me, giving a little gasp as my naked body was immediately revealed. It was obvious from my very red and hard nipples, and the swollen puffiness of my shaven pubes, that I was extremely aroused. The girl knelt in front of me.

 

‘There’s one thing I ought to tell you, Carla. I’ve just been fucked by a couple of young men. In fact, we’ve only just finished. They had me front and back simultaneously. One fucked my arsehole and the other fucked my pussy. They both came buckets. I could feel it all spurting into me. So now I’m full of spunk, both holes. And I haven’t come yet either. Do you think you can clean me up?’

 

Carla looked up at me in shock. I could tell she didn’t know whether to believe me, but then the scent of fresh sperm and hot pussy juice hit her and she gulped.

 

‘Have you ever tasted spunk before, Carla?’

 

She shook her head.

 

‘Never sucked a boy off? Never had him come in your mouth?’

 

‘No ... I never really fancied a boy that much ...’

 

‘You’ll have to do it sooner or later. If you want to be a real slut. You do want to be a proper slut, don’t you?’

 

She nodded, vigorously.

 

‘Well then ...’ I planted my feet apart and canted my hips towards her. Tentatively she leaned forward and started to lick my pubic mound, gradually working lower until her tongue was slipping into the top of my slit and tickling my clit. I touched her head and guided her downwards so that my wet swollen labia slid over her mouth. Her tongue teased my inner lips and probed my tunnel, nervous of what it might find there. I held her in position and relaxed my muscles, releasing a warm thick flood of semen, mixed with my own juices, into her mouth.

 

Carla coughed and spluttered, but was unable to back off. I pushed out more of the accumulated mixture, hearing her swallow and choke. A few last trickles of cum oozed out over her lips. I tilted my hips to wipe my wet pussy across her face.

 

Still holding the young girl’s head, I knelt and looked into her eyes. Carla was in shock, her eyes wide, her face smeared with globules of whiteness. I licked it off her cheeks and nose and chin and covered her lips with mine, pushing the sticky mass into her mouth.

 

‘There, swallow it all down like a good slut. That wasn’t too bad, was it?’

 

She just stared at me. I reached down between her thighs and ran my fingers along her slit. As I suspected, she was dripping with wetness; her sex juice was trickling down her thighs. I kissed her deeply, re-tasting the cum in her mouth, and frigged her solid little clit gently. Within a minute or two she had climaxed, gasping into my mouth.

 

I released her and sat back, grinning. ‘I’ve got another load still in my arse,’ I said. ‘A good slut would offer to clean that up too.’

 

Carla gulped. ‘Can I ... clean up your arse, please?’

 

‘Why do you want to?’

 

‘I want to ... taste the cum in your arse. I want you to squirt it out into my mouth. Then I want to clean out your arse with my tongue. Please!’

 

I smiled and stood up, turning round and presenting my buttocks to her, pulling them apart with my hands. My well-used anus beckoned her. I felt the girl’s hot breath on my membranes and then her tongue licking my sphincter. She probed deeper, her lips forming a seal, and with a sigh of relief (for it had been quite an effort to keep everything contained) I relaxed and let a big flood of semen gush into her waiting mouth. This time the obedient girl didn’t cough or choke. I heard her swallow loudly. I let my anus dilate and felt the rest of the cum trickling out; there seemed to be a lot of it!

 

Carla gulped it down and then eagerly speared my innards with her tongue, licking the walls of my anal passage, trying to scoop up any vestiges of semen that remained. Really she had a very long tongue, I thought gratefully.

 

When she had got me clean and sparkling, I turned round, lifted her to her feet, and kissed her spunk-tasting mouth.

 

‘I need to cum now, Carla. You know what to do.’

 

I sat on the edge of the sofa and leaned back, my legs pointing to the corners of the ceiling, my pink engorged pussy gaping for her. The teenager knelt hurriedly between my thighs and applied her mouth to the wet orifice, worrying my clit between her lips. She sensed that I needed to come quickly so didn’t hold back. Her hand pushed between my labia and forced its way up my recently well-fucked passage, breaking through the muscle ring into the hot slickness of my vagina. Almost as soon as she had formed a fist and started to massage my G-spot, I could feel the first stirrings of orgasm, like the rumblings of a volcano.

 

Carla chewed my clit and fisted me vigorously and I cried out in ecstasy and climaxed. The familiar scalding rush of juice burst from my urethra and splashed over her face. She let my powerful orgasm run its course while I covered her in more eruptions of sexual fluids, then sat back, her face dripping, gently withdrawing her hand, smiling with happiness at the pleasure she had given me. The front of her T shirt was soaked, her nipples showing through the almost transparent material.

 

‘Your turn now, I think,’ I said, and the girl swapped places with me, eagerly spreading her thighs to expose her swollen wet pussy lips. I used my tongue, thumb and several fingers to penetrate her juice-slick holes, fucking her taut young muscles quite roughly while flicking her hard tender clit. Carla hooked her arms around the back of her knees and strained to open the centre of her body as far as she could, willing me to invade her girlish orifices.

 

Before long she had achieved another shuddering climax, her juice running down my wrist, her sphincter clamping around my fingers, crying out in animal moans and shrieks.

 

As soon as she began to ebb I stood up. ‘Time to go, slut. I have another appointment.’

 

The girl stood up shakily, her eyes unfocussed. I slipped my dress back on and showed her to the door. She tottered off down the corridor, the back of her skirt now also transparent where her juices had soaked into it. I wondered if she knew just how obscenely sluttish she looked – or if she would care.

 Camping

© Copyright britslut 2004. No re-use allowed without permission.

 

I feel embarrassed even having this fantasy, let alone writing it down.

 

We’re camping at a lovely site in the South of France - big placements, lots of trees, plenty for the kids to do. Next to us is a youngish chap on his own; fit, tanned, blond, obviously does a lot of walking and biking. He doesn’t seem to speak English and I don’t speak his language so we just smile at each other and I cast surreptitious glances at his tall muscular body.

 

One of the disadvantages of camping is having to get up in the night to go to the loo, especially when you’ve had a lot of red wine the night before. The loos are a long way away and the site is very quiet and dark, so I’ve got into the habit of just squatting over by the hedge instead of putting shoes and dressing gown on to walk for a couple of hundred yards. It’s quicker and it means I can get back to whichever fantasy I was working on.

 

One night I get up about 5 in the morning, I suppose it must be. There’s a full moon and it’s quite warm. As I go over to the hedge I notice movement from the next emplacement, and see that my neighbour is standing there, stark naked, holding his cock. He’s facing sideways on to me. I freeze. He gives a little shudder and a jet of pee spurts from his cock, sparkling in the moonlight. Suddenly he catches sight of me in my white nightie. He doesn’t seem shocked or worried, just carries on peeing magnificently with his legs apart and his hips jutting forward. 

 

The sight of his large cock and nude maleness makes me wet between the legs. I also need to pee urgently. When he’s finished he shakes the drops off it and stands there looking at me, totally unabashed. He gives a little gesture to say, your turn now.

 

I can’t help myself. I lift my nightie when I stand, spread my feet, and release a flood of piss onto the grass. I feel a hot blush spreading up my face even as I wantonly expose myself to him. I even spread my lips apart with my fingertips so that he can see the jet gushing from my peehole.

 

When I’ve finished I stand there trembling. He comes over and kneels between my legs, then applies his open mouth to my pussy. I know what he wants somehow, and manage to eject a final squirt of pee. He kisses my pussy gently and stands up. He holds up 4 fingers and lifts his eyebrows interrogatively, then goes back to his tent.

 

Next day I am so embarrassed I can’t even look in his direction. Fortunately he goes out for the day and comes back just as darkness is falling. I spend the day wondering what his signals meant, and finally decide that he wants to meet me that night at 4 a.m. What does he want to do? I blush hotly every time I try to imagine, and have to tell my husband that I’m having hot flushes, a little early in my case.

 

I drink quite a lot in the evening, and wake up sometime during the night. It’s 3.30 a.m. by my watch. I lie there trying to ignore the urge to pee, and getting extremely horny in the process. 4 a.m. comes, and I get up, without walking hubby or the kids. It’s another warm moonlit night, and he’s already waiting by his tent, naked, powerful, his cock large but flaccid.

 

Trembling, I walk over to him, pull my nightie off over my head and kneel in front of him. He smiles at me, grasps his cock and plants his feet apart. The warm liquid splashes over my breasts and runs down my stomach and onto my thighs. He hoses me down with his piss, avoiding my face but covering all the rest of my body. With a shudder he finishes and shakes his cock dry. I kneel there, wet and quivering, wondering if I dare do what I want to.

 

I stand up and put my hand on his shoulder, indicating that he should lie down. He does so, a quiet smile on his lips. I straddle him with my feet and squat down over his stomach, pulling my lips apart so that he can see. With an effort I release my muscles and start to void my bladder, gushing over his hips and stomach. Still peeing, I work my way up to his chest, watching the liquid running off his sides. His mouth is open. I squat over his face and sink down so that my pussy is resting against his mouth. I can feel him swallowing as I squirt the last of my pee down his throat. 

 

Without warning an orgasm ripples through me, sending me off-balance. I lean forward, supporting my hands on the grass, and grind my clit against his wet nose, shuddering in my release.

 

As we get up I see that his cock is now erect, long, straight and thick. He doesn’t make a move towards me, though, so I hold up 4 fingers and he nods. What will we do tomorrow night?

 Shower

© Copyright britslut 2006. No re-use allowed without permission.

 

This one’s for Julie ...

It was a normal Saturday night at the club. I was on all fours on a couch, dressed only in black suspender belt and black lace-top stockings and 5-inch heels. Under me lay Louise, her head on a cushion so that she could lick my clit easily and sip the juice which dripped continually from my gaping pussy, especially when I climaxed. Rob crouched above me, his iron-hard cock sliding in and out of my arse as it had done for the last hour and seemed likely to carry on doing all night. In front of me was a queue of 4 or 5 men, all naked, all sporting nice erections which they stroked gently to maintain full hardness. One by one I would receive them into my mouth, fellate them expertly but quickly, and encourage them to cover my face with their emissions. After each coating my friend Gina would bend forward and lick the globules of cum from my skin - especially my eyes - and we would snowball the sticky fluid in a big wet snog. 

As I said, an ordinary Saturday night. The next man stepped forward, and I heard a chuckle.

‘Hello, Miss Shepard.’

I looked up from his stunningly hard cock. In my weekday life I’m a teacher and therefore I have a good memory for names and faces. Even so it took me a minute to place him.

‘Hi John,’ I said. ‘How are you doing?’ I remembered that he had left the school about three years ago and gone to university in Sheffield - which is where the club was. It’s over an hour’s drive from where we live - I’m very careful about keeping my life as a slut separate from my teaching, for obvious reasons. Now I had been discovered ... but I didn’t think it would have any repercussions. There was no reason why it should get back to my home town.

‘Oh, great, thanks. Didn’t expect to see you here. Although ... you were always a bit sexy for a history teacher.’

‘Thanks, John, I did my best,’ I said between slurps of his cock. I did push the envelope when it came to short skirts and lots of cleavage at school - though not as much as the girls, of course.

‘In fact we all fancied you like mad. Specially when your stocking tops were on show.’

‘Are we going to chat all night or are you going to cum in my face?’ I said in my best teacher voice, and gave his cock a hard suck.

‘Oh god, Miss, I used to dream about this,’ he said with a grunt, and exploded a huge amount of semen over my face and hair. Gina, who is even more of a cum-slut that I am, carefully licked it all off and fed it into my mouth.

The next man stepped forward, and by the time I had received a few more pints of cum in my face and my arse, I had forgotten about John almost completely.

------------

I try very hard to suppress my sluttish side at school, but it’s difficult. Some of the kids, once they get to about 14 or 15, are just sex on legs, and they know it. Girls and boys alike, I’m not fussy. The sight of a leggy young thing flaunting her body can get my panties wet in an instant. Of course, I’ve never so much as laid a finger on any of them.

One day, close to the end of term, I was supervising a Year 10 games lesson. This involves making sure they all have a shower afterwards and don’t mess around in the changing rooms. Obviously a female teacher checks the girls’ side, a male teacher the boys’. Most of the girls had dressed and gone home but there was a hard core of about 6 who were taking a long time over their ablutions. Shrieks and giggles came from the showers. I wanted to get off home so I put my head round the wall and told them to hurry up.

Six naked girls, of shades from pink to brown, were cavorting in the steam. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from their wet bodies, all slim and coltish, pert breasts bouncing, scanty pubic hair slick, tight buttocks beckoning at me.

‘Don’t you want to join us, Miss Shepard?’ said one cheeky thing. ‘It’s cool!’

‘Come on, time to dry off.’

Nicole, a tall leggy black girl with lips that looked designed for giving blow-jobs, stepped forward and pressed herself against me. I felt the wetness soaking through my blouse.

‘Don’t be a prude, Miss,’ she purred. ‘I’ve seen the way you look at us. Why don’t you get undressed?’

Before I knew it was surrounded by the girls, their hands were all over me, undoing my buttons, slipping my clothes off. I tried to resist but my pussy was tingling and dripping and I just didn’t have the willpower. Nicole kissed me wetly. ‘You’re so sexy, Miss,’ she whispered. ‘I bet you can cum loads of times a night.’

By now I was naked apart from my stockings and heels. Slim wet hands explored every inch of my body, especially my nipples and crotch. I felt fingers penetrating my pussy and arse.

‘Ooh, she’s so juicy,’ they murmured. The girls pressed down on my shoulders and weak-legged I sank to my knees. I felt something big and solid slide into my hot puss. Fingers teased my clit and within a minute or two I had had a throbbing climax, clamping down hard on the thing inside me - what was it?

I opened my eyes and saw a group of boys standing in front of me. Feebly I tried to rise but the girls held me firmly. The boys all had their flies undone and their cocks out, all stiff and aimed at me. The girls held my head steady while, in ones and twos, the boys wanked into my face. Being young and fresh they each produced a large amount of spunk, pressurised jets of it sprayed onto my skin, soaking my hair and face and neck and breasts. I felt it running down my cleavage and onto my stomach. I climaxed repeatedly, driven by the unique sluttishness of the situation and the girls’ tireless fingers on my clit.

Finally the boys had all emptied their balls onto me twice over. My head was covered in a thick sticky coating. I could feel it slowly dripping off my chin and nipples. The girls released me and I swayed. A solitary boy stood in front of me, holding his mobile phone out.

‘Great pics, Miss Shepard! I’ll send them to my brother.’

I recognised him then. The younger brother of John, the guy I had met at the club. Oh god.

Of course, I had to give in my notice the next day. But I make a lot more money now than I did as a teacher. Well, I still teach, after a fashion - I train young women to be sluts like me. I’m very much in demand. Photographing Fairies

© Copyright britslut 2006. No re-use allowed without permission.

 

Mark had always been a strange child. Clumsy but very intelligent, constantly day-dreaming, unable to relate to others, he was eventually diagnosed as borderline autistic with Asperger’s syndrome. He was prone to tantrums if frustrated, read voraciously (mostly science and fantasy), and got bullied at school. He knew everything about space and machinery and very little about real life. He didn’t have any proper friends. At 17, he got the highest marks ever in maths and science and did very badly at English, history, sport and music. 

His parents both loved and despaired of him. They lived in a village in Yorkshire called Cottingley, which as any student of the occult knows is where, in 1917, two teenage girls claimed to have seen and photographed fairies, at the bottom of their garden. The photographs were obvious fakes, even at the time, but they convinced several eminent worthies including Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. The women confessed to the hoax many years later. 

Mark knew all this from his books about Mysteries, but what he didn’t know was that their garden backed onto the wood where the girls said they had encountered the fairies, a century earlier. Two of his many solitary hobbies were birdwatching and tinkering with electronic equipment. And so it came to pass that he built himself a hide in the wood and set up a digital video camera and a movement detector to trigger it, and spent many hours alone there during the school holidays.

---------

The video camera recorded many things, often on infra-red mode at dawn and dusk, and Mark was able to identify and log them all. Shrews, voles, rabbits, toads, bats, deer, birds of many species, even a slowworm. But one day his equipment captured something that made him sit up and rub his eyes. A small figure was walking slowly through the clearing, something filmy floating out behind. It was nine o’clock in the morning and the sunlight was filtering through the trees. He copied that bit of the file and enhanced it on his computer. The figure seemed to be a child wearing a flimsy green cloak, with big, almost transparent flaps at the back. 

Mark knew at once that it was a fairy. He devoured fantasy literature and was familiar with different types of fairies, elves, sprites, hobgoblins etc. It is not clear whether he really distinguished between the make-believe worlds he read about and the real one he inhabited.

Excited, he set up the equipment again and waited for the next day. Sure enough, at the same time, another fairy, this time dressed in cornflower blue, appeared and skipped across the clearing. It was too far away to make out detail. Mark knew he would have to use a telephoto lens, but that meant he had to be there in person.

Next morning he was up early, gulped some breakfast down and hurried down to his hide. He settled down to wait, occasionally stroking his cock. Mark masturbated frequently - it comforted him, and made the fantasies that constantly rambled through his brain stronger and more lifelike. He fantasised mostly about warrior princesses, alien women with magnificent breasts and thighs, plucky female space cadets about to be violated by monsters. Real girls were just not part of his universe. 

His wait was not in vain. The green fairy appeared and sat on a low branch in the clearing, swinging its legs. He trained his video camera on it and his telescope too. The figure leaped into vivid detail. It was a female, looking exactly like fairies in books - a slim girlish figure, a pretty little face with rosebud lips and upturned nose, and long curly blonde hair entwined with flowers. Her legs and arms and feet were bare and she wore only a floaty green dress that was almost transparent. Transparent enough, anyway, for Mark to be able to see her naked body underneath. Her wings were gauzy, insubstantial, and nearly as tall as she was.

He couldn’t tell how big she was, but noted where her head was in relation to a nearby bush. Soon she was joined by her fellow fairy, an almost identical female except that she had auburn hair and a blue dress. They kissed and held hands, and then skipped around the clearing in a little dance, their dresses floating up and revealing their naked bottoms. At this point Mark had an orgasm, sperm filling his fist. He wiped his hand on his shorts and carried on watching and filming.

Suddenly something startled the fairies. They clung together, looking around, and then ran off into the bushes. He waited for another half hour and then went back into the house to process the files and masturbate again.

The fairies were very punctual. Promptly at nine the next morning they were there again, and Mark was there to see them. This time they had brought armfuls of wild flowers and proceeded to comb each other’s hair and then braid the flowers into it, every so often breaking off to exchange tender kisses on the lips. Then the green fairy slipped off her dress - it was cut very low at the back to avoid her wings - and paraded around naked while her friend applauded. Faint girlish laughter reached Mark’s ears. He could see every detail of her tiny breast-buds and bare slit, and he climaxed again into his fist. The blue fairy likewise shrugged off her dress and the two proceeded to touch each other lightly with their fingertips, leading to a tickling match and lots of giggling. Mark was sure that sometimes they touched each other’s cunnies. He was about to come again when they suddenly stopped, picked up their dresses and scampered off, little buttocks flashing in the sunlight.

It is not clear whether Mark thought that there was anything odd in what he was seeing. He knew nothing about sexuality - all he knew was that he found the sights very arousing. And that nothing would make him miss the next morning’s display. This time the green fairy was on her own. She looked around carefully and then walked slowly towards Mark’s hide, on tiptoe, glancing to the sides nervously. Mark held his breath. She came right up to the front of the hide, and Mark could see that she was no more than a meter tall. Her skin seemed to sparkle as if dusted with glitter. The flimsy dress hid nothing of her naked body.

‘Do you want to come out and play?’ she said in a tinkling voice. Mark jumped with fright.

‘Come on, it’s quite safe. Don’t be frightened.’

Trembling, Mark crawled out of the hide and knelt on the grass. The fairy stood in front of him, swinging her hips and making the dress float upwards.

‘What’s your name?’ she asked. Her voice sent tingles down his back.

‘Mark. What’s yours?’

‘Peaseblossom. You’ve been watching us.’

Mark was silent.

‘I don’t mind. Do you like me?’

Mark nodded. ‘You’re very pretty. Where do you live?’

‘In the woods. Here and there.’

‘Can you fly?’

The fairy beat her wings - Mark felt the wind on his face - and rose a couple of meters into the air. She sank slowly back down again, and the dress followed some seconds later. The sight of her bare cunny almost made him cum in his shorts.

‘It’s hard work, though. Mostly we don’t bother.’

‘Where’s your friend?’

‘Angelica? She’s playing with someone else. It’s just me today. Do you like her?’

‘She’s very pretty as well. I saw you playing yesterday.’

Peaseblossom giggled. ‘We’re lovers.’

‘What does that mean?’

Casually, although it was a shock to Mark, she stepped forward and sat on his knees, putting a bare arm around his neck. She was so light that he could hardly feel her, but what he could feel of her warm silky skin against his was enough to make his cock throb dangerously.

‘Don’t you know?’

‘No.’ This was probably true.

She turned her face to his and kissed him gently but lingeringly on the lips. It was the softest, most erotic thing that Mark had ever experienced. She wriggled her bottom on his thighs and her hip touched his rigid cock. Mark climaxed instantly, filling his shorts with semen. He groaned involuntarily. Peaseblossom giggled.

‘You can touch me, you know. Like Angelica does.’

Mark put his hands gingerly on the fairy, fearing she might disappear. She didn’t. Her stroked her soft small body through the almost-not-there dress, and she purred like a cat. He touched her firm little breastbuds and the muscular bases of her wings, places he found fascinating. She took one of his hands in hers and directed it downwards, under her dress, to the top of her slit, pushing his finger in between the silky folds of skin. She gave a series of little cries and sagged against him.

‘There, now we’re lovers,’ Peaseblossom said. She stood up, plucked a dandelion seed and blew on it. 

‘Oh, look at the time. I have to go.’

‘Will you come back tomorrow?’

‘I’ll try to,’ the fairy said, scampering away, her wings and dress flapping.

Methodically Mark switched off his recording equipment and took the disk back to his room. He changed his shorts and uploaded the files onto his computer, then played them to see how much of the encounter he had captured. Much of the meeting with Peaseblossom was there, including the bit where he had put his finger on her cunny and she had made those strange noises. Was that an orgasm, like he had? Mark thought it probably was. Watching the video, he relived the sweet soft weight of her on his knees, and the feel of her lithe little body against him. He climaxed again. He wanted her back very badly.

Nothing would have made him miss the rendezvous the next morning. He had masturbated on waking, having dreamed of the fairy visiting him. He turned on the camera and sat cross-legged outside the hide, in full view of the clearing. All was still. Then he noticed the two fairies standing motionless a few metres away. How long had they been there? Peaseblossom tiptoed across to him.

‘Angelica’s a bit nervous,’ she said, in that strange tinkling voice. ‘She just wants to watch.’

She shucked off her dress without concern and stood naked before him, her weight on one slender leg. Mark was hypnotized by the vision of her slim little body and bare cunny. She arranged herself in his lap, her legs around his waist, her arms round his neck. Mark looked down and saw her thin pussy lips parted innocently. His cock swelled alarmingly.

‘Kiss me then,’ she said, turning her face up to him. Their mouths met and he tasted her sweet saliva.

‘I’m going to cum,’ he groaned. 

She touched his temples lightly. ‘No you’re not,’ she said, and the impending orgasm receded. ‘Now, touch me like you did yesterday.’

Mark felt between her legs and found the moist warm slit between her lips. He stroked her tiny button as she had showed him and her kisses grew more urgent and sloppy. Suddenly she gasped and her little body shook. Mark felt his fingers grow wet.

‘Mmm, that was nice. Do you want to cum now?’ 

Mark nodded, and caught sight of Angelica who had crept closer and was now staring at them with her big eyes. Peaseblossom climbed off him and got him to kneel, then she expertly undid his shorts and freed his rigid cock. Although Mark wanted desperately to cum, something seemed to prevent him. The fairy knelt before him and opened her little rosebud mouth and took the tip of his cock in it. Mark was overwhelmed – he never even knew that such an action existed. Her soft lips slid back and forth along his shaft and her tongue flicked against his glans, even worming its tip into his urethra. The pleasure was unbearable.

Peaseblossom raised her head and looked at him. ‘You can cum now,’ she said, and took his cock in her mouth again. Mark felt his balls tighten and pulse and his hot semen rushed out into the fairy’s mouth. She gulped, coughed, and started to giggle. More spurts covered her lips and chin. Through his ecstatic spasms Mark heard Angelica giggling too. She rushed to them and started to kiss Peaseblossom’s face, licking the sperm up with every sign of relish. The two fairies kissed and it was obvious that they were passing the thick fluid back and forth until it was all swallowed. Mark felt his cock stirring again, despite having just cum fiercely.

‘My, you do want to play,’ Peaseblossom said, seeing his erection again. ‘Come on then, lie back. Help me, Angelica. Hold it upright.’

Angelica seemed to have put her shyness firmly behind her because she shed her dress and knelt by Mark’s side, grasping his cock in her little fists. Her body was as delectable and flawless as her friend’s, with the same small breastbuds and hairless slit. Peaseblossom squatted over the boy’s hips, her pussy gaping. Mark had no experience of penetration so he did not realise that his cock was at least twice as big as someone of the fairy’s size ought to be able to manage. She didn’t seem to be aware of it either. She got the tip between her lips and gave a little shimmy. Mark felt as if his shaft was being engulfed in a tight hot glove full of honey. The fairy sank down very slowly on him, beating her wings now and them and wriggling around to find the deepest part of her cavity, a serious expression of concentration on her face. Angelica watched intently, as did Mark, unable to believe what was happening.

Finally Peaseblossom was fully impaled, her small weight taken on his hips. ‘Ooof,’ she said. ‘That’s nice,’ and squeezed him with her internal muscles. ‘Touch me, Angelica, there’s a dear. I need to cum again.’

Angelica bent forward and kissed her friend, sliding a hand down to her widely splayed slit. Her fingers danced on Peaseblossom’s body and the fairy trembled and then went rigid and shook violently. Mark felt her muscles squeezing his cock all along its length. Suddenly he came, powerfully.

‘Oh, sorry,’ Peaseblossom said when she could speak again. ‘I forgot to stop you cuming. I wanted it to last much longer than that.’

Mark could only groan with bliss. Peaseblossom rose off him with a loud sucking sound which made both the fairies giggle. She bent and kissed him, and then Angelica did the same – her mouth was even sweeter and softer.

‘Come on, Angelica, I’ve got a treat for you!’ Peaseblossom trilled, and they gathered up their dresses and half scampered, half flew into the bushes.

------------

These morning rendezvous continued for over a week. Fortunately the weather stayed dry and warm. Each morning the two fairies would appear, ever bolder – sometimes they turned up already nude. Mark took to waiting for them naked also, for he loved the feel of their soft skin against his. They would play lovers in a variety of ways, almost always as a three – Angelica and Peaseblossom would put their mouths close together and take turns to suck his cock until he spurted, then they would push to get the lion’s share of his sperm. Or they would straddle him alternately, taking him into their little cunnies for just one stroke before yielding to the other. Angelica’s cunny was even tighter than Peaseblossom’s. Or he would lie on his back and one of them would squat over his face and let him lick and tongue their sweet slits, and ask him to guess which one it was. He got so he could identify them by taste. Angelica took longer to cum but her’s were stronger and made her go quite weak afterwards.

And every session was carefully recorded in high-resolution digital video and backed up onto CD and filed away, for Mark to watch in the evening, although he rarely masturbated while doing so. The three or four orgasms he was having every morning were enough.

One day, after he had come violently into their mouths and watched them clean each other up, they stood by him and held his hands and looked serious.

‘We won’t be able to come and play for a while,’ Peaseblossom said. ‘We have to go away. And it’s going to rain and fairies don’t like rain. So we won’t see you for a while.’

‘No!’ Mark said. ‘I don’t want you to go away. I like playing with you.’

‘We like it too. It’s as good as playing with those other girls.’

‘What other girls?’

‘The ones with the long dresses. Elsie and Frances. They had a funny box that made pictures of us.’

Mark’s encyclopaedic mind whirred. ‘But … that was a hundred years ago!’

‘What’s a year?’ said Angelica.

‘It’s 365 days. And a quarter.’ Mark was always precise. ‘What did you play with those girls?’

‘Oh, all sorts!’ They giggled. ‘They wore a lot more clothes than you do. But they were nice when they took them off. All soft. And they could cum lots and lots!’

-------------

And so Mark was left with his videos and his memories. He went down to the wood every day, once the weather brightened up, but the fairies never reappeared. He grew morose and withdrawn, until his parents were quite concerned.

One day the police arrived. ‘Images’ had been found on a computer which Mark had taken to the local shop to be upgraded. They raided his bedroom and took away various bits of hardware, and Mark. He screamed and fought wildly. He was remanded in custody on charges of making and possessing child pornography, and sent to a youth detention centre to await trial. There he wrote 30 pages of ‘confession’ and then hanged himself with his trousers. The official enquiry determined that someone with Mark’s psychological condition should never have been locked up. Hindsight is a wonderful thing.

The above account is taken largely from Mark’s ‘confession’. The original was such poor handwriting, mis-spelt, rambling and illiterate as to be almost incomprehensible. I have tried to put it into a sensible narrative. It was hard to be objective about such a controversial (whichever way you look at it) topic, but in the absence of the original videos, which seem to have vanished into the police archives, it is the best I can do.

Britslut’s

Slutty Stories

  

Britslut is a (semi-)respectable married Englishwoman in her (late) forties. My kids have grown up and left home and my husband used to work away a lot. I have dark fantasies which were taking up too much of my time. I found that writing them down was a good way of exorcising them. Do I wish that the things I write about will happen, or had happened, to me? I don't know ... in another life maybe. Anyway I hope that they will strike a chord with some of you out there.

  

Comments welcome to - nice ones only!

  

All stories © Copyright britslut 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009. No re-use allowed without permission. 

 

These stories deal with all sorts of nasty things your mother wouldn’t want you to read (unless she was like me): things like incest, under-age sex, lesbianism, etc. You have been warned.

  

Stories

(most recent at the top)

Showing More (sequel to Showing )

Anticipation

Stepmum

Play |  ­ Prize |  ­ Advancement |  ­ Gang |  ­ Problems |  ­ Showing |  ­ Pick-Up |  ­ Kirsten |  ­ Experiment |  ­ Pictures |  ­ P   is   for   Park |  ­ Visitor |  ­ DTs |  ­ Limits |  ­ UFOs (UnFinished Objects) |  ­ Massage |  ­ Julie ’ s Story |  ­Shower |  ­ Trance |  ­ Marriage |  ­ Advert |  ­ Mrs Jekyll and Ms Hyde |  ­ Strangers |  ­ Aliens |  ­ Paula |  ­ Sons and Lovers   (sequel to  Laundry ) |  ­ Laundry |  ­ Hobby |  ­ Ishtar   |  ­ Photographing Fairies   |  ­ MILF   |  ­Awakening   |  ­ Socks 2   |  ­ Trains   |  ­ Socks   |  ­ Rain   |  ­ Daughters   |  ­ Fence   |  ­ Maths   |  ­ Neighbours   |  ­ Boyfriend   |  ­ Career   |  ­ Cone  | ­ Fairy Story   |  ­ Dream Husband   |  ­ Pupil–7: Graduation   |  ­ Egg   |  ­ Pupil–6   |  ­Pupil–5   |  ­ Teen Climax   |  ­ Congestion   |  ­ A Walk in the Woods   |  ­ Pupil–4   |  ­ Pupil–3   |  Facing   |  ­ Pupil–2   |  Pupil–1   |  ­ Queen   |  One of Us   |  ­ Comfort   |  ­ Competition   (sequel to  Cuddling )   |  ­ Dance   |  ­ Worship   |  ­Punishment   |  ­ Camping   |  ­ Cuddling   |  ­ The Babysitter   |  ­ Veggies   |  ­ Dirty Weekend   |  ­ Police   |  ­ Guest   |  ­ Kate

  Queen

© Copyright britslut 2005. No re-use allowed without permission.

 

I met him at a club in London - a rather more upmarket place than I usually go, but it was a friend’s birthday and we were pushing the boat out. He was the most physically gorgeous guy I had ever set eyes on: tall, a perfect physique, tanned face and immaculately coiffured blond hair, classical clean-jawed good looks, a wide smile with lots of teeth, and eyes that said ‘sex’. It sounds stereotyped, and maybe he was, but it was a stereotype that got me damp between the legs and determined to bed him as soon as I could.

 

You mustn’t think I’m a sex-hungry girl who preys on men, though. At 29 I’ve had a fair number of lovers and have become pretty discriminating in whom I pursue. But I have the looks to be fairly irresistible if I want to be, and those I pursue almost always get caught. Whether they stay caught for long is another matter; I get bored easily and it takes a vigorous and inventive man to keep me amused in the bedroom for more than a few weeks. In fact, if we stay in the bedroom that’s a bad sign.

 

So I zeroed my sights on Mr Hunk, ignoring my friends, and went in for the kill. He was with a group of richly-dressed guys and a few tarty females, so it took me a while to separate him off. 

 

‘Hi,’ I said, flashing my smile and my cleavage, ‘I’m Cindy. What’s your name? I want to dance with you.’ I don’t believe in beating about the bush.

 

‘My name’s Rock,’ he said, in an American accent. ‘Why do you want to dance with me?’

 

‘Because you’re gorgeous. And I love your accent.’

 

He laughed. ‘OK. Just one dance.’

 

Talk about playing hard to get. We moved onto the floor and I did my sinuous bit close up to him so we could talk.

 

‘You live in London ?’

 

‘No, I’m on vacation,’ he said. ‘I live in California . 

 

‘ California , eh? You in films? TV?’

 

‘You could say that.’ He grinned.

 

‘Hey, am I missing something? Are you really famous and I don’t recognise you?’

 

He grinned and shook his head. ‘No, you wouldn’t recognise me. Not that sort of famous. Say, what about you? You live here? What do you do?’

 

‘Yeah, I’m a Londoner. Work in advertising. Someone has to. I’m 29, single, own house, like to have fun. That’s me in a nutshell.’

 

‘That’s great. Say, I have to go now. Nice to meet you.’

 

I was pissed off. I’d been zapping him with my charm and my tits for all I was worth (making my panties very damp in the process) and he hadn’t responded.

 

‘Hey, do I smell or something?’

 

‘No, why?’

 

‘I’m a woman, you’re a man. Let’s at least get to know each other before we say goodbye.’

 

‘You don’t want to get to know me, Cindy.’ At least he remembered my name. ‘You’re a lovely girl. Believe me, I’m not your sort of guy.’

 

‘Why, are you gay?’

 

He laughed hugely. ‘Gay! No! Not in the slightest! No, I really do have to go. My friends are taking me somewhere. It’s been nice talking to you.’

 

‘Maybe we could meet up for a coffee tomorrow. Eh? What’s your phone number?’ I was getting desperate. This guy was the hunkiest specimen of manhood I had ever met and I was determined not to let him escape.

 

His smile softened. ‘Ok, if you insist. But no strings, huh?’ He told me his mobile number and I wrote it on my palm, making a mental note not to masturbate until I’d copied it off. He did leave with his mates, it wasn’t just an excuse. I think. I got some stick from my friends; they knew that Cindy usually scores. 

 

----

 

I rang him mid-morning, and had the impression he had just got up. His voice was husky and sent moist shivers down into my pussy. I persuaded him to meet me for lunch at a little place in Soho . What to wear? Tight black pants, a thong so as to avoid the VPL, a tight red top that left my navel, with its stud, bare. I’m proud of my figure and like people to see its shape.

 

Rock was already in the café when I arrived, a nominal five minutes late. I didn’t want to seem too eager. He shook my hand formally and I leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek, smelling his expensive aftershave.

 

‘You decided I was safe to get to know, then,’ I grinned at him.

 

‘How could I resist your English charm?’

 

We chatted inconsequentially about how London had changed since he had been here last, about my job, his dogs, terrorism, and all the time I was wondering how I could get him back to my place and test out his equipment. He steadfastly refused to flirt. I asked him about his film work, what he did.

 

‘You’re a nice girl, Cindy, you don’t want to know.’

 

I pressed him. ‘Tell me. I’ll sulk if you don’t.’

 

He sighed. ‘This is where they all make an excuse and leave. I’m in the sex industry. I’m a porn star.’

 

I felt my eyes widening, although maybe I should have guessed. ‘Really? A porn star? Oh wow.’ For once I was lost for words.

 

‘It’s just a job.’

 

‘So you … make love to women … and things. On camera. Wow. Do you … enjoy it?’

 

‘So you don’t have deep-seated moral objections to the sex business?’

 

‘Hell, no. I’ve watched a few porn films in my time. They weren’t what you’d call art, but they … have their uses.’ I blushed and laughed. ‘I’ve often wondered what sort of people take part in them.’

 

‘People like me. We’re fairly ordinary really. Probably couldn’t get any other sort of job.’

 

‘So do you enjoy it?’

 

‘Honestly? Yes, I do. Sure, it’s a job, you have to turn up on time and do what you’re told, but …’

 

‘But you get to fuck lots of women.’ I hadn’t meant to be so blunt.

 

 He shrugged. ‘Yeah. There’s worse jobs.’ He grinned suddenly. ‘And it pays well.’

 

‘Really? I always thought women only did it because they were desperate.’

 

‘It’s different for men. There’s not so many who can do it. Women, yes, they’re a dollar a dozen. A few make a lot of bucks out of it, but they have to have something special.’

 

‘Different for men because … it’s harder to perform to order?’ I was enjoying this conversation. Rock seemed genuinely keen to explain the business to me and his voice was making me very wet.

 

‘You got it. Every guy thinks he could satisfy a dozen women, but when you put them in front of the camera, with other guys looking on … they kinda wilt.’

 

‘Do you ever wilt?’ This was getting very personal, but I guessed that Rock had few inhibitions.

 

‘Of course. Now and then. But there’s ways and means. It’s willpower, mostly.’

 

‘You must have had … I mean, professionally … hundreds of women.’

 

‘Thousands,’ he said simply. ‘Thousands. But I rarely get to know their names even - and they mostly use pseudonyms. We don’t date afterwards, if that’s what you think.’

 

‘I heard that most porn actresses were lesbians.’

 

‘I wouldn’t know. As long as they can act convincingly …’

 

‘This may seem like a silly question, but … Doesn’t it devalue sex for you? Do you have girlfriends? Lovers?’

 

His face seemed to sag a little. ‘Yes, of course it does. Like being a gynaecologist, I guess. And not many girls want to be Miss Three thousand two hundred forty-one. And … ‘

 

‘But you’re on vacation now. No work for two weeks?’

 

‘That’s right. I can afford to take off a few times a year.’

 

‘And do you … have a busman’s holiday?’

 

He frowned. ‘Oh, I see. That’s not an American expression. You mean - do I practise when I’m off duty?’

 

I grinned. ‘Yes. Do you?’

 

‘Not really. There’s … problems.’

 

‘What problems? Come on, you can tell me, I’m an adult. In case you hadn’t noticed.’ I stroked my breasts involuntarily, feeling my nipples harden.

 

He sighed again. ‘You really want to know?’

 

‘Cindy wants to know everything.’

 

‘We can’t talk here. I’ll get thrown out. Come on, let’s go for a walk in one of your quaint little parks.’

 

We sat down on a bench in the square. It was sunny and there weren’t any beggars around. I sat close to him and rested my arm on the back of the seat so I could look at his profile.

 

‘To make it big in the porn world, you have to have an angle. Something special. Like, a guy who can keep it up for hours on end. Or a massive cock.’

 

‘What’s your angle?’ I was hoping he had a massive cock; I do like to feel full.

 

‘Do you know what a facial is?’

 

‘It’s what I have at the salon.’

 

‘In porn, it’s when the man - or men - ejaculates into the woman’s face. It’s called a money shot. They always end like that.’

 

‘Why?’ I didn’t admit to him that I had seen films like that and it always triggered off my orgasm (if I was watching alone, that is).

 

‘Tradition! No, I guess it proves that the man isn’t faking. Or it humiliates the woman. Or both.’

 

‘Yeah, I suppose it does.’

 

‘Well, that’s my speciality. I produce a lot of jism. And I mean a lot. I can cover a woman’s face in it. That sells.’

 

‘Wow.’ If he carried on I was going to leave a wet patch on the seat. ‘So … you never cum inside a woman?’

 

‘Sometimes I do. Nowadays there’s a category called creampies. The porn industry loves categories. You heard of them?’

 

‘I suppose they’re not the sort you eat.’

 

‘Not unless … no, never mind. No, a creampie is when the man cums inside a woman, and she lets it leak out. You need a close-up shot. With me, she floods the shop.’

 

‘Wow,’ I said again.

 

‘So, now you know. Time to say goodbye.’

 

‘Hey, wait a second,’ I grabbed his arm. ‘What makes you think I want to say goodbye?’

 

‘Experience. It’s hardly a turn-on.’

 

I hesitated. ‘It’s not a turn-off … don’t you ever want to make love to a woman … as opposed to having sex with her?’

 

‘Oh sure. But …’ he shook his head. ‘It doesn’t work.’

 

I looked into his deep Hollywood-blue eyes. ‘I’d like to try.’

 

He grinned. ‘You’re not the first to say that. But it really doesn’t work.’

 

I put my hand on his thigh. It was warm and very firm. ‘Let’s go back to your hotel, where we will make love. Any way you want. And see if it works.’ God, he was hard work. 

 

‘It won’t.’

 

‘Look, I am putting myself on the line for you. I am pleading. Cindy never pleads for sex. But I am. And I’ll make a scene if you say no.’

 

His lips curled into a sort of smile. Was he just enjoying humiliating me? But I was being driven by the juices seeping out of my pussy and I didn’t care.

 

‘OK,’ he said. ‘But don’t say I didn’t warn you.’ 

 

This was a really good way to start a seduction.

 

We got a taxi to his hotel and in the back seat he held me tenderly and we kissed softly and passionately. He had obviously decided to give in with a good grace. But even as his expert kisses sent shivers down my neck and renewed the wetness in my panties, I found myself wondering if he was just acting. Oh well, as long as his acting was first-rate …

 

In the lift he cupped my buttocks and pressed his erection into my stomach. ‘First of all I’m going to eat you,’ he whispered, and I almost climaxed there and then. In the suite (very luxurious) he undressed me expertly and laid me on the bed, parting my thighs with gentle hands. Willingly I exposed my secrets to his gaze - I noticed he had turned all the lights on. He was obviously used to sex under bright lights. I had shaved myself thoroughly that morning and his tongue would not have detected the slightest trace of stubble.

 

He certainly took his time exploring all around my hips and buttocks and thighs and then my lips and ass and then between my lips and then, oh bliss, my demanding little clitoris. I wound my fingers into his golden hair and let rip with the noise, and I wasn’t acting. I wonder if he was surprised that I climaxed so readily - I had heard that all female screen orgasms were faked.

 

When I had come down to earth I undressed him and licked all over his body. I was amused to find that he was completely hairless - he must shave frequently all over. I didn’t ask him about it - Cindy doesn’t like to interrupt sex with conversation, preferring to reserve it for afterwards or before. It was a novel experience to suck a man’s balls without getting at least a few hairs loose in the mouth. His cock was not massive - on the large size of average, I would say with my fairly extensive experience - but solid and gently curved, circumcised and ultra-clean. But his balls were definitely off the scale - the size of duck eggs, they hung like a ram’s equipment. I recalled what he had said about producing jism, and shuddered with anticipation.

 

I fellated him at length, enjoying his easy hardness. I got the impression he could maintain his erection for hours, and I was in no particular hurry to make him cum. I wanted his cock to spend a lot of time inside me first.

 

And it did. We fucked in most of the positions that I had ever used, our smooth and slickly-wet mechanisms conjoining with tireless rhythm. He plumbed my hot cunt fifty times a minute for hours - interesting to calculate the total length of cock I received. I didn’t invite him into my ass, although I’m not averse to that, but I figured we could try that next time. Every so often, just for a rest, we would slip into a sixty-nine and I would make love to his juicy cock with my mouth and lips while he gave me another shattering climax, holding my lips wide open with his fingertips.

 

His balls had by now drawn up almost inside him, his scrotum just a big tight lump. His cock was as hard and upstanding as ever, and I wondered if he would ever cum. In fact, I was getting a little sore from the constant pounding. So I looked him in the eye, and grasped his cock with both hands and closed my mouth round its purple head. I was sitting on the edge of the bed and he was standing with his feet planted wide apart, his hips jutting towards me, the epitome of male power.

 

I sucked and wanked him with a will, and he must have consciously let go because he shuddered and grunted ‘Here it comes’. His cock went absolutely rigid and seemed to swell another inch. I trembled in that ecstatic moment when time stops and you know that very soon the spunk will be blasting out and there’s nothing you can do to stop it. I squeezed my thighs together …

 

And blast it did. His first gush filled my mouth with warm cloying liquid. I swallowed hurriedly and waited to receive the next, even bigger spurt. Nothing happened and I wondered if that was it. Then Rock groaned and shuddered and another huge gush filled my mouth to overflowing. I disposed of that OK, but the next one, after a pause of several seconds, caught me off-guard and spilled out down my chin. After that I decided not even to try and swallow it all. I sucked and stroked and Rock kept emitting these agonised groans and ejaculating these massive, slow gouts of spunk. I wondered when they would stop. But no, the long strings of whiteness just kept on coming, driven by my pumping fists which seemed to have a life of their own. They landed on my face and shot over my head to matt my hair. The thick ropes of semen began to slide down my forehead and over my eyelids, which was a shame as I wanted to keep watching the unbelievable sight of this cock spurting endlessly. 

 

Dimly I realised that an orgasm was trembling through my body. I wasn’t even touching myself, although my thighs were squeezed tightly together. I managed to bend his cock down slightly so that his emissions now landed on my cheeks and nose, and in my open mouth. Then further down to anoint my neck and tits. And it just kept on spurting out, until hardly a square inch of my upper body was left dry. Rock was grunting and moaning as if in pain, his hips jerking, the sweat dripping off his torso. Again I climaxed.

 

It seemed like hours before his spurts died away and only a few thick drops oozed from his cock. Even then it remained hard for minutes before finally softening. His knees were shaking and he sat down hard on the bed. I sat there feeling the cooling spunk slowly sliding down my skin. I couldn’t speak, not only because my mouth was full of semen, but because the experience had just been too incredible for words.

 

Rock roused himself and pulled me gently up, then turned me to face the big wall mirror. Through the gobbets matting my eyelids I saw that I was covered in whiteness from the top of my head to my stomach. Slowly I reached up and touched the slick, sticky goo on my breasts. I could see Rock behind me grinning tiredly. Then I put my hands flat against my wet stomach and slowly drew them upwards, gathering a great wave of cum. My palms slid viscously over my breasts with their achingly erect nipples, then up my neck to my face. I massaged the thick jism into my hair and face, then down again to my breasts and pinched my nipples as hard as I could. I felt another small orgasm surge through me, and I swayed into his arms.

 

I lay on top of him on the bed and we dozed. He didn’t object when I kissed him with spunk-coated lips.

 

‘Well?’ I said softly.

 

‘Well what?’

 

‘Did it work?’

 

‘I should say so! You are a very unusual girl, you know.’

 

‘Why?’

 

‘Women don’t like it when I squirt all over them. It turns them off.’

 

‘Really? It makes me cum,’ I said simply.

 

‘Mmm … you know, we do this shoot - you don’t mind me talking about my work?’

 

‘I like it.’

 

‘We do this thing, where we get girls off the street … we give them fifty dollars to be filmed sucking me off. Nice innocent girls, not slags. Most of them have sucked a cock before, though, and some have even had cum in their mouths. So they know what to expect, or they think they do.’

 

‘And they get a shock.’

 

‘You bet. Some of them get hysterics, some just hate it. I can’t remember any who came.’

 

‘Bit hard on the girls.’

 

‘Yeah. We give them some more money if we have to.’

 

‘What about the others - the experienced ones?’

 

‘They know what’s going to happen. They take it like professionals, but I don’t think they like it.’

 

I was feeling proud. I had genuinely loved it when he hosed me down with his cock. Why? The feeling of utter vulnerability, of complete sluttishness, of sublime mess. The thought that it was me alone that had triggered his mighty emission - quite wrong, of course, he did it every day. I even enjoyed the feeling of the semen cooling and drying on my skin and in my hair. 

 

I rubbed my itchy nose on his chest. ‘Can you do it again?’

 

He shook his head. ‘No, only once a day. I can cum again … but you won’t get much out of me. It’s quite draining, actually. My balls get sore.’

 

So making love with Rock would be a few hours of strenuous fucking concluded by an enormous explosion of spunk, rather than a cycle of erection, orgasm, deflation and re-erection. Oh well, I could get used to it. I sometimes went at it with my dildos for two or three hours non-stop, I knew my body could take it. 

 

He said he had to meet some people later so we showered together. It took me ages to wash all his jism out of my hair. We grew aroused and he held me from behind, his cock pressing against my spine, and masturbated me gently under the sluicing water. I climaxed with abandon in his arms, but he didn’t fuck me again.

 

I asked him if we could meet again tomorrow.

 

‘You want to?’ He seemed surprised.

 

‘Of course I want to! Don’t you want to do it again?’

 

‘I do. It’s just … strange, to find a woman who actually enjoys it.’

 

I kissed him on his sculptured lips. ‘You can cum on me till I drown in it. How’s that?’

 

-----

 

And so we became lovers, united by the strangest bond I have ever known. The next day I prepared myself for anal sex as I wanted him to have me in every possible way. I asked him how many women’s asses he had been inside - it made me aroused to think of this.

 

‘Thousands,’ he said. ‘It’s almost compulsory these days. You don’t get far in films if you won’t do anal.’

 

We did anal, for hours, until my poor orifice was gaping like a railway tunnel. Then I sucked him off, relishing the taste of my scented enema and lube, and made him cum all over my head and body again. This time I knew what it would be like and rolled his spouting cock all across my breasts and face, covering every square inch of flesh with his seed. Again I felt the orgasms rippling unbidden through me.

 

Rock had a very unusual orgasm. Every man I had ever been with pulsed about once a second, an unvarying rhythm which coincided with my own climactic throbs. Rock only spurted every 6 or 7 seconds or so, with an enormous shudder that seemed to cause him actual pain – but he produced more semen with each spurt than other men make in a session.

 

The third day, I wanted him to cum inside me, just to see how much I could take. We ended up doggy fashion, my ass stuck into the air and my neck twisted so I could look back at his balls slapping against my pubes. I felt him start to cum and my cunt was suddenly filled with a warm pressure. The fullness grew and grew and suddenly there was a white trickle falling between my legs onto the bed. I put my hand under it and caught the flood of spunk, then touched my clit, triggering off a wave of orgasm. He kept pumping and the jism squirted out around his cock - I could feel it sluicing across my lips - and ran down my thighs. Still spurting, he withdrew and with practised ease slid his cock into my ass, and proceeded to fill that with spunk too. Without its plug, my cunt released its contents in a big gush, helped by the cock pistoning inside my ass. I could actually feel my bowels gradually filling up with liquid.

 

Eventually he was drained and flopped out of me. I struggled up and sat on the bed so that I could see myself in the mirror again. From my waist to my knees I was covered in his jism. With an ultimate feeling of sluttishness I contracted my muscles and saw more whiteness gush simultaneously out of my cunt and ass, splattering onto the floor. I started to laugh weakly.

 

‘Is that what they call a creampie?’

 

He grinned at me. ‘That’s a double creampie, honey! You’re a star!’

 

‘You think I’d make a porn star?’ I asked, scooping up a palm-full of his thick cream from my cunt and stuffing into my mouth. I was deliberately doing the nastiest things I could imagine.

 

‘Seriously. You could be a cum queen.’

 

‘What’s a cum queen?’

 

‘Everyone’s got to have a speciality in porn. You wouldn’t believe some of the things … A cum queen is a woman who does things with cum. Drinks it, baths in it, leaks it, wears it, does snowballs -‘

 

‘Snowballs?’ The jargon was fascinating.

 

‘You get a mouthful of cum and pass it to another girl, and vice versa. Or dribble it into her mouth. Or lick it out of her cunt or her ass …’

 

‘Wow.’

 

‘But I’d hate to see you on the porn circuit.’

 

‘Why?’

 

He shrugged. ‘You’re … too nice …’

 

I inspected the mess we had made. ‘The maids must love you. Come on, help me shower again. I need another orgasm.’

 

----

 

We made love, in Rock’s special and extremely messy way, every day for the rest of his vacation. Always in his hotel suite - I like to fuck out of doors, and the weather was warm enough, but the after-effects of one of his climaxes would have made walking around somewhat embarrassing, even for me. On the last day I told him I loved him. He held me tight, wiping the spunk from my eyes and mouth and smoothing my sticky, matted hair away from my face.

 

‘Oh, Cindy, that’s not a good thing.’

 

‘It hasn’t been in the past,’ I said, trying to be light-hearted. ‘But I can’t stop it happening. Will you take me back to America with you?’

 

‘You would hate it,’ he said. ‘Oh, not the place or the people. My lifestyle. How would you feel knowing that every day I was fucking different women? And I couldn’t make love to you properly. I can only manage one a day.’

 

I was silent. He was right. I didn’t like the thought of him pumping his seed over thousands of other women - I wanted it over me, every drop, every time. I felt a tear mingle with the drying semen on my cheek.

 

‘Couldn’t you … do something different? Another job?’

 

‘What else can I do? I’ve been in the porn business since I was eighteen. It’s the only thing I know how to do.’

 

‘But you do love me … just a little?’

 

He sighed. ‘If I let myself … yes. But I put up barriers. You have to. D’you understand?’

 

I kissed him and got up to shower. ‘Keep in touch, huh?’

 

------

 

We did keep in touch, to my faint surprise. We e-mailed regularly and phoned each other once a week or so. I always felt a hot wetness at the sound of his voice, and even masturbated sometimes while we were talking - although I didn’t tell him. We discussed his work dispassionately - what shoots he had done, who with. It excited me to hear about his exploits - I could imagine it was me rather than the myriad other women who were receiving his emissions. Our friendship grew closer, if anything.

 

I had some holiday coming and decided on the spur of the moment to fly to Los Angeles. I gave Rock 24 hours notice so he couldn’t refuse. I was quite prepared to stay in a hotel or something, and even to find that he lived with a wife and kids, but I just had to see him and the way he lived and worked and to find out how I really felt about it.

 

And at the back of my mind was the thought that if it was the only way to have sex with him, I would become a porn star. One of the few who enjoyed being hosed down with spunk, and the fewer who didn’t fake their orgasms. I would do facials and creampies and snowballs and whatever else was needed to monopolise his eruptions. I would become a cum queen.  Julie ’ s Story

 

© Copyright britslut 2007. No re-use allowed without permission.

This true tale was sent to me by a friend. She wants you all to know how slutty she is!

 

Dramatis personae:

Me (Julie): At work I’m a 42-year-old secondary-school teacher, respectable and proper; at home I’m a wild swinging slut. I’ve been corresponding with BritSlut for a while now about my needs and desires and she gave me some advice on how to progress things.

Kevin: My second husband, who enjoys my sluttish side to the full. We frequently go to sex clubs and take part in the group sex.

Paul: Kevin’s 15-year-old son who stays with us in his school holidays. He’s a lusty handsome teen and I’d already discovered that he fancies me and ‘borrows’ my dirty panties to wank into.

Claire: Paul’s girlfriend, also 15, who is a sexy little minx, but Paul’s mum won’t let them sleep together. I haven’t met her but in her photos she looks like she’s up for anything. She was coming to stay with us for a couple of days after Christmas and I’d promised him that they could do whatever they wanted.

Day One

Paul arrived on the afternoon of the 27th and Kevin picked him up from the station. He got settled in his room and Kevin went off to the pub at 6 pm with instructions not to return until I texted him. Paul was watching TV and I told him I was going to take a shower. I changed into my dressing gown with my red satin lacy Ann Summers bra and panties on underneath and redid my make up - I can tell you my tummy was churning with excitement! 

Taking your advice, I knew it would be easy to get the subject back to sex so I was sat on the sofa and asked him about Claire and how things were with them. I turned the subject to wanking and following your advice mentioned that I’d not done the washing and there were a few pairs in the laundry basket! He started to apologise but I said it was ok and that I found it very horny that he wanked with my knickers. He seemed to relax a bit and I started asking him questions about what he did with them and if he used the pairs he had ‘borrowed’ after his last visit? The atmosphere was highly charged and when I asked him if he ‘liked the smell of my cunt’. The chat became more explicit, talking about his cock and him spunking on the panties. I was soaked!

I asked if he wanted to watch a porn DVD and he jumped at the chance, telling me he’d seen a few with mates and with Claire. We talked about the action on the screen about the girls, the cocks and what they were doing. I could see he had a nice bulge in his jeans and asked him if he ‘usually wanked off watching porn’ to which he said ‘yes of course’. I told him to go ahead and taking a tip from one of your stories I stood up, lowered my panties and passed them to him. You should have seen his face! 

I said, ‘They’re a bit wet, love’. He dropped his jeans and boxers and started wanking. I asked him if they smelt good and he held them to his face and sniffed. So erotic! I told him to come close so I could watch him as I fingered myself. He was standing over me wanking hard so I spread my cunt lips to give him a good view. Of course he did not last long and said he was going to spunk off. I told him to do it on my pretty panties and he did! What a load, mmm they were awash with teen sperm; I had a cum just watching him! 

He was a bit sheepish after but I put him at ease telling him I’d really enjoyed it and that he could get some juicy panties from the laundry to take to bed if he wanted - of course, he did. He handed me the pair he’d used and said he better get to bed before Kev came home. Of course as soon as he left the room I fingered myself to another cum, sniffing and tasting his spunk from the knickers. I got a good fucking from Kev when he came home, we were both very horny as I told him what had happened. Kevin decided to go into work on Thursday and Friday to give Paul and I some ‘bonding’ time.

Day Two

I was tempted to go and wake Paul up after Kevin left for work, but I held back ... just! Paul came downstairs and I asked what he wanted to do after breakfast. I was a bit concerned when he said go shopping in town to spend his gift tokens; I asked if he wanted company and he said ‘yeah, cool’.

We went into town. I forgot that guys shop a lot faster than us women and within the hour he had everything. He asked if I needed anything and I said I’d call in at La Senza, otherwise I’d run out of panties. He looked a bit worried but I told him that it was like a mum/son shopping trip and he told me I was hotter and a MILF.

In the shop he was busy leering at the teenage girls giggling and shopping. I spent over £50 in the sale on panties, a suspender belt and some stockings.

When we got home we had lunch and I gave him a beer he asked what I’d bought in the shop and I showed him. I told him if he was a good lad I might model it for him later. The time had come for a heart-to-heart chat and I put him at ease about what was happening and we chatted about sex and him and Claire’s fun. I decided at this time not to tell him about his dad’s and my swinging lifestyle. I could see he was horny again and he was trying to look up my skirt. I just raised the hem of the skirt and said, ‘Here have a good look’. He came over and sat next to me rubbing his hard cock through his jeans. I asked if he’d prefer to wank on my panties while I was wearing them. ‘Fuck yeah,’ he replied.

I took him up to his room and got the digital camera. I sat on the bed and told him to strip off. My cunt was so hot and wet. I raised my skirt to my waist and he got between my fat thighs and started wanking over the crotch of my light blue thong. I was so horny watching him. I told him to ‘spunk my panties you dirty boy’ and ‘mess up my panties with your hot teen spunk’. He said ‘Fuck, I’m going to cum’ and shot a big load on the crotch. I could feel the heat of his sperm soaking through! He lay back on the bed and I took off the panties and licked his boy cum off the panties whilst fingering my clit to a big orgasm. When I came down from my cum he was hard again and wanking. The joy of youth, mmm!

I said that as he had been a good lad I would model some undies for him if he liked. Of course he jumped at the chance! I told him to wait in his room and went to get changed. I decided the time was right to get into my full slut attire, including seamed stockings, 5-inch red patent heels, micro miniskirt, see-through top with blue satin panties and bra, completed with a lacy blue suspender belt. I applied more make-up to give me a real slut look and walked into the bedroom. He was naked on the bed wanking with a pair of my panties he’d taken from the laundry hamper the day before whilst sniffing another pair! I told him he was a ‘dirty boy’ and he said ‘yeah, I am!’ I asked what he thought of my gear and he said I looked like a porn star. I started posing for him bending over and putting one foot on the bottom of the bed and rubbing my dripping cunt through my panties. 

‘What now?’ I asked. 

‘Can I play with you?’ he replied. Of course he could! I had hold of his rock-hard teen cock for the first time as we kissed, his hands were all over me. He had his hand up my skirt fingering me through my panties. He told me to be careful I did not make him spunk too soon, and I spread my legs as he slipped his hands down the panties and fingered my slick twat. He took the panties off and I sat on the bed spreading my legs wide. It felt so lewd spreading my cunt lips for a 15-year old lad. 

‘Do you like my cunt, Paul?’ I asked. 

‘Fuck yeah, its so wet,’ he said, sticking two fingers up me. Without me asking he lowered his face to my cunt and started licking my clit as he finger-fucked my cunt. I came instantly!

I told him to stand up and sat up on the bed. I started wanking him off whilst licking precum from the end of his cock. I licked the length of his cock and even lapped at his big teen balls. He told me he’d be spunking soon and I asked if he wanted to cum on me. 

‘Fuck yeah, where?’ he said. 

‘On my face like a slut if you want?’ 

I teased his balls as he wanked inches from my face: ‘shoot it you dirty young fucker’, ‘mess my face up with your hot muck’! He started spurting, covering my face and hair. I stuck my tongue out to catch some spurts. My face was covered with gobs of teen sperm and it had dripped onto my tits and stockings! I’d been finger-fucking my cunt as he wanked onto me and had an intense cum as he let fly with his creamy load.

I told him I was going for a shower and called Kevin to tell him he had to go out to the pub after work!

Day Two, evening

After the excitement of the afternoon I took a nap whilst Paul went on his PlayStation. I woke up and made the evening meal for the three of us. Kevin announced he was going out to the pub to do the quiz and Paul’s face lit up! Kevin had a shower and left, and I went and changed into some sexy underwear with just a housecoat over the top. I went downstairs and asked Paul what he wanted to do; he quickly said ‘Can we watch some porn?’ I took a few DVDs out of the cupboard and he choose one to watch.

I opened a bottle of wine and poured us a glass each. Paul sat on the sofa cuddling up to me. We watched the film, talking dirty about the girls and the action. He was soon hard and rubbing his teen cock through his jeans. On screen a woman was getting fucked with a dildo whilst sucking on another prick. 

‘Have you got any toys?’ Paul asked. 

‘Of course,’ I replied, ‘does Claire have any?’ 

He told me she didn’t but she wanted one; he’d already told me that he’d used other things on her like bottles, her hairbrush handle, etc. I told him I loved doing that too! I went to get a few vibrators as well as a carrot, banana and cucumber. My cunt had already left a wet patch on my pantie crotch at this point!

I went back into the living room and the poor lad’s eyes nearly popped out of his head! I took off my housecoat and sat on the sofa dressed in my heels, stockings, suspender belt, and matching bra and panties. Spreading my legs I showed Paul the one-inch long wet patch on my pantie crotch. 

‘Guess you better take these to bed with you later, take them off!’ I said. He spread my cunt lips and started fingering my slick fuck hole whilst I took off my bra. 

‘What shall I use first?’ he asked.

‘You choose.’ He took the banana and it slid easily into my slick cunthole. 

‘Fuck me Paul you dirty boy, push it up my cunt,’ I begged. 

He did! He started sucking on my titties and I had a big cum, rubbing my clit which made the banana get soaked in cunt cream. 

‘Let’s try something different,’ I told him whilst stripping him off. I put KY jelly on my arsehole and got on all fours and I placed the carrot next to my asshole and told him to gently push it in. I then instructed him to take the cucumber and fuck my cunt with it; the effect of the double fucking was awesome and I came again. Paul by now was growing in confidence and calling me a dirty bitch and sexy cunt!

I told him I needed to get my breath back and we watched more porn whilst drinking the wine. When on the movie a girl was getting tit fucked, Paul said he would love to do that to me! 

‘Of course you can, you dirty young stud,’ I told him but first I spread my stockinged thighs wide and let Paul fuck me with the wine bottle! He told me he couldn’t believe what a dirty slut I was and that he loved my wet juicy cunt. I laid on the floor with a pillow under my head and Paul straddled me, he had been rock-hard for over two hours at this point and precum was oozing out of the end of his cock. I rubbed it over my face and got him up on his knees above me, licking down his rock-hard cock to his balls, then I licked round his teen arsehole, finally inserting my tongue inside - mmm!

I then started fucking my cunt with my 10-inch black vibrator whilst he wrapped my tits round his teen meat and started fucking them. When he got close he started wanking over my face. 

‘Do it, you dirty teen fucker!’ I begged, ‘shoot your hot spunk on mummy’s pretty face!’ 

He slowed his wanking and let fly. I could not believe how much sperm there was as spurt after spurt coated my face, tits and hair! It was his fourth cum of the day (he confessed he’d wanked with my panties before getting up that morning). I rubbed the salty teen spunk into my face with his prick then scooped his cum up with my fingers and ate it.

Paul got his clothes together and took my cunty panties to bed with him. 

‘Can I take these home as a memento?’ he asked. Of course I let him. I waited for Kevin to return from the pub; I knew I would be getting fucked again whilst confessing what a slut I’d been.

Day Three

We were all going out for a meal in the evening and Kevin would be back from work early, so as time was limited I decided to go and wake Paul up with some coffee. I wore just my housecoat with black silky bra and panties on underneath. He was half asleep and I tapped him on his shoulder. I put the coffee on the bedside table and asked him what he wanted for breakfast. He put his hand up my housecoat and said ‘you’. I spread my legs and pulled off the duvet and took hold of his hardening teen cock. My cunt was already wetting the crotch of the panties as he took off my housecoat. I undid my bra and told him to suck ‘mummy’s’ tits. He started licking my nipples and rubbing my slick twat through my panties. 

‘Let’s take these off,’ he said. I stood up and he lowered my panties, holding the wet patch to his face and inhaling. I put one leg on the bed and spread my slick cunt lips for him. 

‘Here, have a taste.’ 

He looked at my slick twat and told me I was a ‘dirty slut’. 

‘I am for you, you horny teen fuck,’ I replied. He stuck two fingers up me, licking my clit until I had a big cum, leaving his face slick with cunt juice. 

Paul told me to lie on the bed and straddled me, his cock over my tits. He placed my panties in my hand and said ‘Toss me off with your panties, Julie.’ I did as ordered, wanking his teen meat with my black silk panties until he sprayed his hot boy spunk onto my tits and face. I licked my lips, enjoying the salty taste of his teen sperm! He then used my panties to clean the cum from my face and tits. He said, ‘You can use them to cum with while I’m shagging Claire tomorrow!’ I said she was a lucky young bitch having a stud like him.

I told him his dad would be home early afternoon and asked what he wanted to do until then. 

‘Will you dress slutty for me again?’ he asked. 

‘Of course I will, love. You go get a shower, I’ll go change.’ 

I dressed for him as requested: fully fashioned seamed stockings, my shortest tight micro mini, 5-inch fuck-me slut shoes, see-through top and fine silk thong and bra set. By now the temptation to fuck his young prick was powerful but I knew he had a girlfriend and fucking his dad’s woman might be a step too far at this point, so I resisted. 

I walked into the spare room and he was lying on the bed sniffing a pair of my panties and wanking his rock-hard boy cock with another. 

‘How many pairs of my panties have you got now?’ I asked. 

‘Four,’ he replied, ‘can I take them with me?’ 

‘Don’t let your mum find them,’ I said laughing. 

‘I won’t but I might share them with some mates!’ 

‘What!?’ I asked. 

He went onto explain that he and his two best friends sometimes wanked off watching porn videos. 

‘We don’t touch each other,’ he added quickly, ‘we just talk about the sluts on the films and which girls at school would be the best dirty shags! I bet they would love to use your panties.’ 

The idea was a big turn-on so I told him to go for it, but I wanted him to leave me a pair of Claire’s cunty panties under the bed. 

‘It’s a deal,’ he replied. He then took charge; his confidence had grown over the past three days. 

‘Bend over and show me your stocking tops and panties.’ I did as ordered. 

‘Fuck, that thong makes your arse look amazing,’ I stuck my butt out in his direction, rubbing the pantie crotch into my sopping cunt. 

‘Am I as hot as the schoolgirls you know?’ 

‘Yeah, you’re fucking dirty too.’ 

He told me to go and get my dildos and I did as instructed. He had me kneel on the bed and lowered my thong round my thighs. 

‘Fuck, look at the cunt juice on these,’ he exclaimed whilst sticking a finger up my slick twat. He took my seven-inch black vibe, turned it on and started pounding my cunt with it. The air turned blue as I told him to ‘ram it up mum’s slutty cunt’ and ‘make me cum you dirty teen stud’. He did with all seven inches up me as he rubbed my clit. I lay on the bed gasping for air as he wanked his stiff meat. 

‘You kneel on the bed now,’ I told him. He did as instructed and I knelt behind him licking his balls and wanking him and then inserting my tongue in his teen ass. He loved it!

He had me strip to my stockings, suspender belt and heels and proceeded to play with my tits and lick and finger my wet twat to another cum - the lad was learning fast. We lay together talking and playing with each other. 

I said ‘I have to go pee, Paul’ and got up. 

‘Can I watch?’ he asked laughing. 

‘You kinky bugger,’ I told him, ‘of course you can.’ 

He followed me and I squatted over the toilet as he looked between my legs watching the piss running from my spread cunt lips, whilst wanking his teen meat. 

‘Like that?’ I asked. 

‘Fuck yeah,’ was his reply. 

We headed back to the spare room and I told him he needed to cum because his dad would be home soon. I sat on the bed and started licking the precum from his cock. 

‘Can we do something different?’ he asked. 

‘Of course, what?’ I replied. 

‘I want to see you drink my spunk!’ I felt my cunt spasm at his request. 

‘Where’d you get that idea from,’ I enquired; of course it was from a porno movie he and his friends had watched. 

I took a glass from the bedside table and held it under his teen meat, wanking him fast. 

‘Oh fuck I’m gonna spunk,’ he cried as spurt after spurt of teen cream shot into the glass. I counted seven spurts and it was actually running from his cock at one point! He took the glass from me and told me to lie down. He started fucking my cunt with three fingers and slowly poured his spunk into my mouth. I savoured the taste as he lifted the glass higher and poured his cum onto my face giving it a sheen of boy sperm. I had another cum on his fingers as he did this to me!

I told him I’d have to go and shower before his dad got home and he’d better sort himself out. We went out for the meal and the three of us talked about leaving him alone with Claire the next day. He said we were cool letting his girlfriend sleep over and we replied it was our pleasure; little did Paul know we would both be lusting after her anyway. That night Kevin fucked me doggy style whilst I sniffed and licked Paul’s spunk from the soiled panties. 

‘You’re such a slutpig, Julie.’ 

‘I know, darling, I know!’ I replied.

  Rain

© Copyright britslut 2006. No re-use allowed without permission.

 

It was hot weather, and even hotter in the greenhouse where I was planting tomatoes. I had dispensed with bra and panties, as is my habit, and was wearing just a thin cotton sundress. Even so I was sweating. The weather grew more and more oppressive, and I was certain that heavy rain was on the way. Just as well, the garden needed it badly.

Suddenly there was a flash and a thunderclap which made me jump. The rain crashed down, almost deafening me as it splattered on the glass. I peered out through the running water, enjoying the sight of the lawn and flowerbeds soaking up the cloudburst. 

Unfortunately the noise of the rain made me realise that I needed to pee, and quite urgently. I should have just squatted down and done it into the drain, but I didn’t think of it at the time. I wanted to get into the house – some hundred yards away – without getting soaked. So I squeezed my legs together and waited for the rain to stop.

After ten minutes or so the storm showed signs of lessening. I gave it a bit longer, then opened the greenhouse door and made a dash for it. Alas, the lawn was an inch or so deep in water and the first thing I did was slide gracefully to a muddy horizontal. At that moment the rain chose to renew its fury, and within seconds my dress was wringing wet and clinging almost transparently to my skin.

I got to my feet and started to laugh. It was only water, after all. My bladder was demanding attention so I peeled off the dress and shivered as the heavy rain massaged my skin. Our garden is pretty private, so I planted my legs apart and relaxed my muscles and let the pent-up liquid spray from my pussy. Its warmth cascaded down my thighs, mixing with the cool rain.

I shuddered with delight and relief, and realised that my nipples were extraordinarily hard and my pussy was tingling with excitement. Peeing naked out in the rain had, I realised, made me incredibly horny. One hand reached up to pinch my left nipple, hard, and the other slid down my slick wet belly and between my labia. My clitoris hummed with tension. I stroked it gingerly and almost swooned at the feelings of pleasure that sparkled through me. A few more strokes and a fierce orgasm swept over me. My legs buckled and I sank to my knees, still throbbing. As my legs sank into the muddy lawn I could actually feel my vagina opening and closing, trying to grip on something.

I lay back, enjoying the cool caress of the mud and grass. My urges had not been satiated by the climax – if anything they were even stronger. I ran my hands over my wet body, and then plunged three fingers into my warm hungry puss. The other hand frigged my clit furiously, and within a short time I had achieved another aching orgasm, my vagina clamping down on my fingers. I rolled over and hugged the wet lawn, feeling the raindrops hitting my back. My climactic spasms gradually ebbed.

Later, feeling a little cold and silly, I got up and staggered into the house. It was fortunate that my husband was out – I wouldn’t have known how to explain how I came to lose my dress and look like I had had a mud-bath. I wiped my feet and pottered into the shower, chuckling to myself.

  Laundry

© Copyright britslut 2006. No re-use allowed without permission.

 

I was sorting out the dirty clothes in the laundry basket, and came across a pair of my panties. I usually go for black cotton ‘tangas’ although sometimes I wear black lace ‘bikini’ briefs. Just because I’m 45 I don’t see why I shouldn’t look sexy - although to be honest no man has actually seen me in my underwear for a year or two. My only child, Robert, who’s 16, doesn’t count - or so I thought.

The panties in question were screwed up into a ball. I tried to open them out so they washed better and discovered that they were full of a white sticky mess. Now I’m not a prude but still it shocked me. I’ll try to reconstruct my train of thought:

1.      They weren’t like that when I took them off. Although I occasionally get aroused and leak a little juice, this was more like a flood.

2.      It was semen. I’ve seen enough of it - on my son’s sheets, for instance - to be sure of the identification.

3.      No-one else male had been in the house, therefore it must be my Robert’s semen.

4.      The dirty little pig! How dare he masturbate into my panties!

5.      There was an awful lot of it. In my limited experience men didn’t usually produce as much as was glutinously clinging to the black cotton. So my fast-developing little boy was a veritable sperm factory, was he? 

6.      I wasn’t surprised that he masturbated - in fact I would have been surprised if he didn’t. But using his mother’s dirty knickers! What on earth was he thinking?

7.      Actually the idea that he got aroused by my panties, and by association what they had been covering, amused me somewhat. Weren’t all boys supposed to fancy their mums - Oedipus or something? 

8.      A vision flashed into my head of Robert with my knickers wrapped around his erection, rubbing strongly, his body arched with tension as he spurted copiously and uncontrollably into the thin cotton. What fantasies would be spinning round his head at that moment? To my shame I felt myself grew hot and moist in my current, as yet clean, knickers.

9.      He had put the soiled garment back into the linen bin without trying to clean it up. Did he think I wouldn’t notice? Or did he secretly want me to notice, want me to know that he had been masturbating into my underwear? What reaction was he seeking from me?

At this point I made myself a coffee and tried to think about other things. But the vision described above kept re-asserting itself, and my panties grew damp with shameful sensations.

Robert usually went to bed before I did, and that night, in the bathroom, I undressed and threw my knickers into the basket. I wondered what would become of them, whether I should say anything to him. If so, what? Perhaps it was a phase that would pass.

Perhaps it had. In the morning the panties were untouched, a pattern repeated for the next few nights. I decided that it had been a momentary aberration on my son’s part and that he was as ashamed of it as he should be.

However Saturday gave me another shock. I had gone into his bedroom to strip the sheets for the weekly wash, as normal. On doing so I discovered, at the foot of the bed, another wadded-up black ball. This one was still very wet - in fact it squelched when I picked it up. The horny little beast must have ejaculated into it that very morning, if indeed he had not also done so during the night. I realised with a start that I had lifted the wad to my nose and was savouring the smell of fresh male semen. My glands were automatically reacting to the pheromones and starting to produce fluid that threatened to leak out. I shivered and threw the panties down. What was I doing? Getting aroused by the smell of my son’s sperm - what sort of mother was I?

I wondered whether to say anything but couldn’t decide how to tackle it. Although we get on OK, we don’t converse all that much - our interests are too different. Some devilment in me decided to test him, to see how far he would go. On Sunday evening, preparing for bed, I took off my panties - black cotton tangas again - and laid them carefully on top of the pile of washing in the laundry basket. I had turned them inside out so that the whitish deposits in the crotch, caused by my more-than-usually-active secretions, were uppermost. I retired to bed. Robert was already in his room. Soon I heard his footsteps going to the bathroom. The toilet flushed and he went back to bed. Had he collected the soiled knickers and was even now lying there with them touching his erection, rubbing my sexual secretions onto his taut shaft, eventually pumping his load of boyish semen into the folds of cotton? I discovered that my hand had strayed to my crotch and was stroking my clitoris softly. With a sudden rush of shame I turned over and tried to sleep.

In the usual morning rush of getting off to school and work I forgot all about the puzzle, but I remembered during the day and the first thing I did on getting home was to check the laundry basket. Sure enough, on top, were yesterday’s panties, loosely crumpled, and full of thick white sperm. There was so much of it that some had leaked onto the clothes underneath. My god, he was copious! And bold - there was no way I could fail to miss it. So ... he knew that I had left the panties on view deliberately, and he had left them soiled for me to find. What sort of game were we playing?

The funny thing was that his behaviour towards me was completely normal. He didn’t look at me differently - in fact he hardly looked at me at all. It was annoying me, and I decided to bring matters to a head somehow.

That evening, after we had been watching TV for a while, Robert stood up and said he was off to bed. I took a deep breath and said, ‘Aren’t you forgetting something?’ 

He looked at me blankly. I stood up and reached under my skirt and slipped my panties off - very decorously, without revealing anything. I held them out to him, still warm. He took the scrap of black cotton, blushed, gave me a sheepish grin, and went upstairs. Well, that hadn’t got me anywhere, had it, I thought. I sat down again, unable to stifle the visions of him wrapping the thin cloth around his straining erection, my still warm and moist secretions smearing over his swollen glans, his back arched and hips pumping his cock into his fist until he gave a moan of climax and his hot spunk jetted into the waiting panties, almost bursting through the thin fabric with the force of his ejaculation ...

I had pulled my skirt to my waist, spread my thighs and slid my fingers between my soft, swollen and very wet lips. A vision flashed through my mind of his spunk splattering warmly onto my belly and thighs and hand. A rush of guilt and shame swept over me, and I stopped, pulled my skirt down and went to get a glass of water.

Lying in bed, trying not to thing about Robert masturbating, I decided that I needed to discuss the whole thing with someone. As it happened I’d arranged to go out the following night with a friend, Carol, who also has a teenage son who’s friends with mine. We’d swapped problems and stories before and I didn’t think she’d be shocked - in fact, knowing Carol, she might well find it hilarious. Nevertheless I spent a restless night, with long, angst-ridden wakeful spells. Several times I started to touch myself and then fought it back when fantasies of my son’s cock gushing sperm flooded my brain. I only dropped into a deep sleep as dawn was breaking.

I was woken by Robert touching me gently. ‘You missed the alarm, mum. I’ve brought you a cup of tea.’

Groggily I thanked him. What a treasure he was! I forgave him everything, even his activities with my underwear. Half asleep still, I tottered into the bathroom and had a cool shower, which left me tingling. I glanced into the laundry basket. Sure enough, there on the top were the panties I had given my son the night before, spread out blatantly. I picked them up. The insides were covered in semen, almost every square inch of fabric was coated with white globules. Some of it was still fresh – he must have performed his final ejaculation only an hour or so ago. My head swam, partly from the heady smell of maleness that rose from the sodden garment. As if in a trance I stepped into the panties and pulled them up my legs, shuddering as the cool stickiness touched my crotch and buttocks. I pulled them tight, the thick sperm squishing into my crevices. I leaned on the washbasin and breathed deeply, fighting down the urge to rub myself through the wet cloth.

I heard Robert shout goodbye and the door slammed as he went off to school. I was late for work, and spent the day in a dream, conscious of the panties slowly drying and sticking to my skin. What would my colleagues say if they knew that my own son’s semen was caked in my crotch? It didn’t bear thinking about.

We behaved perfectly normally that evening. I made Robert his tea – Carol was cooking a meal for me later – suppressing the urge to lift my skirt and show him the now stiff panties. I went to change, almost reluctantly peeling the knickers off before I showered. I put on a fresh bra too, a nice little lacy thing, and sheer black stockings and suspender belt, then a flimsy, clingy black dress. We planned to go to a club afterwards and Carol likes to dress up. The fiction is that we are on the pull and might get off with some hunks – but it hasn’t happened yet. 

Robert was watching TV when I tottered downstairs in my heels. His eyes widened when he saw me all tarted up – normally I dress very soberly.

‘Think I’ll do?’ I asked.

‘Wow, mum, you look really s– … smart!’ His compliment was genuine and I’m sure he had been about to say ‘sexy’.

‘Thanks! I do my best. I don’t know when I’ll be back. I’ve got my mobile with me if you need anything.’

‘Don’t worry, mum. You have a good time. I’ve got lots of homework to do.’

I gave him a kiss on the cheek, and felt his lips against mine, wetter and more urgent than a son’s kiss is usually. My god, he was turned on by me! Despite myself I felt proud.

‘And stay out of my underwear drawer,’ I said as I closed the door, instantly regretting it. 

Carol had cooked us a lovely meal and we washed it down with a couple of bottles of red wine. We talked mostly about our kids, as mothers do – she has Paul, who’s 16, and an older daughter at university. Paul was with his father that week. I told her, by way of introducing the subject, that Robert seemed to be masturbating a lot recently.

‘Tell me about it!’ she said. ‘Mine must be like a geyser. His sheets are as stiff as a board some mornings. I suppose they’re at their horniest at this age – just like us!’

‘Has Paul ever … well … shown any interest in you?’

‘Sexually, you mean? Oh yes. He’s forever trying to sneak a look up my skirt, or when I’m in the shower. Sometimes I tease him a bit, I admit. It’s naughty, but, well, I’m not getting much fun these days.’

Carol was petite and attractive, and I could understand that any red-blooded male might want to see her naked. What I couldn’t understand is why she seemed to have no luck in finding a new partner, either long- or short-term.

‘The thing is … oh, this is a bit sordid …’ I told her about Robert ejaculating into my panties, and even leaving them for me to find. Carol sniggered. I didn’t tell her than I had worn a soiled pair all that day.

‘It’s just a phase. Has he got a girlfriend? No, I thought not. Look, his hormones are churning around like a washing machine, and he’s got this sexy woman living with him – yes, you are sexy, Gina, though you may not realise it. He can’t shag her so he does the next best thing and shags her knickers.’

I loved her brand of pop psychology. ‘So you think he wants to … shag me?’

‘In his state he wants to shag anything that moves. But yes, you’ll do. You’re the closest female to him by a long way.’

‘Do you think Paul feels the same way about you?’

‘I’m damn sure he does. One day I’ll tease him a bit too much and he won’t be able to control himself.’

‘How would you feel about that?’ I was intrigued and had slipped unconsciously into psychiatrist mode.

‘Being shagged by my own son? Well, he is quite a hunk, isn’t he? And I’ve been going up the wall lately.’ She grinned and I couldn’t tell if she was joking or not. ‘No, he needs to get a girlfriend. He had one for a while last month and didn’t look at me once. But she dumped him and now he’s leering at my tits again.’

‘Robert ought to get a girlfriend, I suppose. Not much I can do to help, though. Matchmaking was never my strong point.’

‘I’m surprised he hasn’t got girls tearing his clothes off! He’s gorgeous! He was round here the other day and I kept looking at him and thinking if I was 20 years younger ...’ She gave a little shiver.

‘Well, he seems to go for the older woman, so maybe you’d be in with a chance.’ This was a joke but Carol looked at me.

‘Maybe I would ...’ she murmured. 

The conversation drifted on to other matters and the taxi arrived to take us into town. We went to a couple of clubs and had a good time dancing our socks off and fending off some of the most revolting males that I have ever seen. Eventually we called it a day and, tired and sweaty and slightly inebriated, we staggered to the taxi rank and finally got back to Carol’s for a last coffee. I was glad I had booked a day’s leave tomorrow.

Carol was scribbling a note and put it an envelope, then fetched a plastic bag. 

‘I’ve been thinking about your predicament,’ she slurred. ‘See if this helps.’ She reached under her dress and slipped her panties off and put them in the bag. I noticed they were blue and lacy, very skimpy. ‘This is for Robert.’

In my alcoholic state I just took the bag. Back home I undressed, leaving my clothes scattered on the bathroom floor, had a pee and fell into bed and a deep dreamless sleep.

Which was broken by the alarm clock, which I had forgotten to cancel. I cursed, and then heard Robert’s alarm going off. I listened automatically for the sound of him getting up - unlike me, he had school today. When nothing happened for ten minutes I dragged myself out of bed, pulled on a dressing gown and went to wake him. 

I stopped in the doorway of his room. My son was fast asleep, naked on his back. My clothes were all around him. He had put my panties - last night’s moist-with-sweat-and-female-secretions panties - over his head so that the crotch covered his nose: it looked ridiculous and faintly menacing. One of my stockings was blotchy with semen. My little black dress was bunched up over his loins, and I could see various whitish stains on it. I had no doubt that he had ejaculated into its folds repeatedly and copiously ...

On autopilot, I went down to the kitchen to make him a coffee, and noticed the plastic bag that Carol had given me. The boy needed help, I decided, and maybe Carol had some plan that would work. It was better than getting doctors involved. I took the coffee and bag up to his room, sat on the edge of the bed and shook his shoulder gently. The odour of sperm made my head swim.

His eyes widened in shock as he saw his mother looking down on him and realised that he was wearing her panties on his head. He whipped them off, blushed deeply and tried to find the sheet to cover his body. Unfortunately it had fallen onto the floor - fortunately for him my dress hid any erection he might have been sporting.

‘You overslept,’ I said, trying not to laugh at his embarrassment. ‘Drink your coffee.’

‘Thanks, mum. Did you have a good time last night?’ He was desperately trying to act as if everything was normal.

‘Yes thanks. Oh, Carol asked me to give you this.’ I left the bag on the bed and went before he died of shame. I lay on my own bed nursing a slight headache and listened to him showering and getting ready for school. When the house was quiet I swallowed a couple of paracetamols and inspected the laundry basket. My outfit was in there, loosely wadded. I inspected the dress - it was absolutely soaked in semen. The lad must have climaxed several times while holding it against his loins. In a daze I lifted the sodden fabric and pressed it against my face, feeling the cool slimy mess sliding over my cheeks and mouth, the heady smell filling my nostrils. I felt a sudden warm wetness between my legs. God, what was happening to me?

Still carrying the wet dress, I wandered into Robert’s bedroom. He had opened the bag and read Carol’s note. Her blue panties lay on the bed, as yet unsoiled by him. Maybe he was aroused only by my clothes, or maybe he wanted to save it for later. I picked up the note, but then put it down again unread. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know what she had written to him.

I slipped my dressing gown off and pulled the wet, sticky, slimy dress over my head. It stuck to my bare skin. My son’s sperm was now smeared over my hair, face and body. I looked at myself in the mirror and whispered, ‘You dirty, dirty, dirty slut ...’ I lay on his bed, clutched at my pubes through the thin fabric, and felt an orgasm swelling in me.

The phone rang downstairs, shocking me out of my pleasure. I’m one of those people who can’t ignore the phone, and in any case the spell had been broken. I went to answer it and spent half an hour talking inconsequentially to my mother who was worried about a new washing machine she had bought, while the dress grew clammy and cold. That’ll teach me, I thought, and spent the rest of the day doing housework as a penance.

Robert came home from school and seemed more excited and jumpy than usual. He drank a pint of orange juice very fast and them disappeared into his room. Over tea he mentioned casually that he was going round to Paul’s for the evening. I opened my mouth to say that I thought Paul was with his father this week, but then shut it again. I already had a suspicion of what Carol’s plan might be, and this confirmed it. He shot off as soon as he could. Later he texted me to say that he was staying the night at Paul’s and not to expect him until after school the next day - he was always good at letting me know what he was doing. I grinned to myself. 

The next morning Carol rang me at work.

‘Hi Gina!’ There was suppressed laughter in her voice.

‘Hi Carol. What have you done with my son?’

She spluttered. ‘What haven’t I done with him, you mean? Jesus Christ, Gina, it was amazing! Talk about stamina - he wouldn’t leave me alone! I’ve never had a session like that before ...’

‘He was good then?’ I felt obscurely proud of my boy.

‘Well, not at first ... a bit trigger-happy, as you might expect. But after the first few times, he got the hang of it!’

‘How many times ...’

‘Oh, I wasn’t counting! He’s like the Duracell bunny, you know ... and the volume! Like a fountain! He nearly drowned me.’

‘So is he coming round for more tonight?’

‘To tell the truth, Gina, I’m just a teeny bit sore, and that hasn’t happened for a long time. Maybe you should take over tonight.’

‘Carol! He’s my son!’

‘Who cares? He’s desperate to give you the best non-stop all-night shagging of your life, and let’s face it, you could do with it.’

‘Did he say that?’

‘Well, sort of. We chatted ... briefly ... in between shags. He’s got the hots for you in a bad way, Gina. I don’t think me or a girl his age is going to cure it. He called me mum once or twice ... when he was cuming.’

‘Oh Jesus.’

‘That’s what you’ll be saying when he gets his tongue in you, believe me!’

The vision of my son with his head buried in Carol’s crotch distracted me from what she was saying.

‘... got the hang of it after a while.’

‘I’ve got to go, Carol, the boss is on the prowl.’

‘OK, good luck.’

Good luck at what, I thought. Fending off my rampant son, or enticing him between my legs. I really didn’t know any longer which of the two options I wanted. But I had to choose quickly.

Robert was home when I got back from work. He smiled at me, suddenly seeming more grown up. There was a swagger in his walk and his shoulders looked broader. My little boy is no longer a virgin, I thought. He’s been inside a woman, tasted her juices, given her orgasms. He’s a man now.

‘Well?’ I said, amused.

‘Well what?’ he grinned.

‘How was she?’

His grin broadened. ‘She was great! It was amazing. She’s insatiable - I could hardly keep up with her.’ Interesting, I thought - Carol’s story was subtly different.

‘Thanks mum,’ he said, and suddenly hugged me. I hugged him back, feeling his muscles rippling. So he thinks I arranged it, does he? Well, no harm in that ... 

It was a long time since I had had a warm masculine body in my arms, and it was having a distinct effect on me, son or not. I felt a warm bubble burst between my legs. I broke the hug and said, trying to keep my voice level, ‘I’m just going upstairs for half-an-hour, OK?’

Once in my bedroom, I flung off all my clothes and lay on the bed. I clutched at my pubes, two fingers of one hand seeking out my swollen clitoris in its slippery nest, fingers of the other sliding easily into my hungry vagina. I closed my eyes and gave myself up to fantasies which are too obscene even to write here. I came quickly, violently, flooding my hand.

I didn’t stop, continued to stroke my tingling clit and stretch my soaking pussy with my fingers. Another orgasm swelled inexorably and burst like an explosion deep within me. I was working on a third when Robert’s voice penetrated my erotic fog.

‘It’s OK, mum. Carol told me,’ he said softly.

I opened my eyes – he was sitting on the bed watching me tenderly. God, how long had he been there? Fortunately my hands covered my pubes, more or less.

‘Told you what?’ What secrets had they exchanged in their pillow talk?

My son was holding the panties which I had dropped on the floor. He held the crotch against his mouth.

‘You want to watch, don’t you?’ he said with a catch in his voice. I felt myself nod.

He unzipped his trousers and let his erection spring forth. I was impressed by its size and rigidity. Carefully he wrapped the panties around it, covering the head with the feminine-stained gusset. He gripped the shaft in his fist and began to stroke, very slowly, immediately lost in bliss.

I couldn’t help myself. I reached out and enclosed the black-cotton-clad head of his penis in my hand. It was hot and firm. Robert groaned and I thought he was going to cum, but obviously his many orgasms with Carol had reduced the pressure somewhat. He removed his own fist and I slid mine down his iron-hard column, squeezing it gently.

Both our gazes were riveted on the rigid flesh swathed in fabric, waiting for it to erupt. I stroked it with agonising slowness, feeling it swell and harden even more, heralding the imminent explosion, marvelling at its pent-up power. The panties slipped away from his glans, revealing the eyehole dilated and pouting, ready for the flood of semen to burst forth.

‘Oh mum,’ he groaned, and I felt his shaft quiver and pulse. The first jet of thick whiteness flashed like lightning, splattering onto my naked breasts. Further, equally copious gouts exploded from his straining erection, covering my stomach and thighs with white splashes. My god, there was so much of it, falling like warm rain on my dry hungry flesh.

Eventually he subsided to a series of little gushes that trickled over my fist. I lay back, and started to breathe again. My mind couldn’t contain the enormity of what had just happened. Robert’s could, though, apparently. He kissed me softly on the forehead and said,’Thanks, mum.’ I heard him leave the bedroom.

Within my swirling emotions of shame, excitement, guilt and disbelief, one thought stood out. There was no going back. Phase 2 had begun.Gang

© Copyright britslut 2008. No re-use allowed without permission.

 

I had arranged to accompany my son and five of his pals on a camping weekend, for three reasons: none of them was old enough to drive the van; only I knew how to get to the spot I had in mind, by a lake some 3 hours hike from the road; and I wanted to make sure there wasn’t any funny business with drink or drugs. I thought that once I had got them set up, I could take off by myself for a couple of days solitary walking - although I get on well with him and his friends, non-stop teenage energy gets a bit wearing after a time.

The weather was good and we managed the walk-in without too many complaints, despite the fact that I made sure they carried all the heavy stuff, being strapping lads rather than a petite female of advancing years. It’s an idyllic spot, a grassy sward by the side of a small lake, nothing man-made in sight. We got the tents up and the gear unpacked and the tea brewing, and the lads lay around recovering - their usual exuberance only slightly calmed by tired muscles. Sweaty T-shirts were hung up on trees to dry, and I was treated to six naked male chests bearing varying amounts of adolescent hair - not the worst sight for a woman whose hormones are still flowing well.

I said that I was going to have a wash in the lake, and retired around a headland. Swimming naked in fresh water is one of life’s pleasures, and I stripped off eagerly and plunged in. I knew it would be cold but was still unable to suppress a little shriek. I splashed around vigorously until warm, then swam way out into the lake and tried diving down to look for fish. 

When I grew tired I made for the shore and heaved myself onto the pebbles, my skin tingling, goose-pimples all over. The cold water had turned my nipples into rock-hard stumps. I tiptoed to where I had left my clothes, and stopped. Nothing. I looked around and smiled to myself. I might have expected that practical jokes would be on the agenda.

Fortunately I’ve never had any problem with nudity; before marriage and kids I had been a model, among other things, and I’ve kept my figure trim and fit. So I had no qualms about walking casually into the campsite, as naked as the day I was born. The boys had been sniggering to themselves, but they stopped when they saw me, drops of water sparkling on my skin. I sat down casually, making no attempt at a decorous pose - anyway, I shave my pubes, so everything is always on display. Six jaws hit the ground. I had called their bluff with a vengeance.

‘Mum!’ my son Paul gave a strangled cry. Although we’re not prudish at home, I don’t think he’d ever seen me completely naked before. There were stifled noises from the other boys.

‘What’s the matter?’ I said casually. ‘Is there any of that tea left?’

I leaned forward to pour some out of the saucepan, feeling my tits bouncing. To tell the truth I was quite aroused by the situation, being the focus of attention of six testosterone-filled lads. I could tell that none of them could tear their eyes off me, although when I tried looking at them they would glance away.

‘It’s great swimming in the lake,’ I said. ‘You should try it. Cool you down a bit. Looks like some of you need it.’

For most of the lads had gone bright red, and their shorts were tenting dangerously. The thought of six adolescent cocks straining at the leash made me even more excited. I felt a warm wetness deep inside my pussy, and with it came a daredevil urge.

‘Where did you put my clothes, by the way?’ I asked casually, ‘Not that I need them, until we go home.’

‘Um, they’re in your tent, Mrs Martin,’ stammered Rich. ‘Christ, we didn’t mean ... I mean, we didn’t think ...’

‘You just wanted to see me naked, didn’t you?’ I smiled. ‘Nothing wrong with that. Well, here I am.’ I leaned back on my arms and straightened my legs. My breasts, taut with the cold water, lifted and jutted. I heard a few moans.

‘Oh jesus!’ Mike fumbled with his shorts, obviously straightening his cock so that it could swell to full rigidity.

‘Why don’t you strip off too?’ I said. ‘You’d be much more comfortable.’ 

His face was a picture as his horniness struggled with his inhibitions. Suddenly he stood up and dragged his shorts down. His erection sprang up and slapped him in the stomach - and a very presentable erection it was too. He might only be 16, but he was more than fully-developed - and I ought to know. 

I heard loud gulps from the others. Peer pressure in young males is a powerful thing. Within a minute all six had shed their clothes and were standing in a ring, their cocks jutting upwards. I was proud to see that my son’s was as large and rigid as any.

‘Now, we’ll play a game,’ I said, feeling totally in control. ‘There’ll be a prize for the winner.’ I knelt in front of the nearest lad, David. ‘Has anyone got a timer on their watch? The winner is the one who takes longest to come.’

There were gasps as I quickly grasped his cock and closed my mouth round it. I sucked strongly, swirling my tongue around the shaft and bobbing my head, lips tight. In a few seconds his hips bucked and he gave a huge groan. My mouth filled with warm thick semen. I could feel it jetting against the roof of my mouth. I swallowed it all down until his spurts died away, relishing the salty-sweet flavour as it slid down my throat like oysters.

I released the softening organ and sat back on my heels.

‘How long was that, then?’ The boys all had their hands on their cocks, but Rich looked at his watch.

‘Um, eleven seconds, I think,’ he gasped.

‘Not bad,’ I said. ‘Next!’

Mike was next, his cock was slightly bigger. I gave it the fast, furious treatment and almost immediately he was ejaculating copiously in my mouth. The taste was subtly different but just as sensuous. I could feel juice seeping out of me as I swallowed his emissions.

The next boy, Peter, lasted a bit longer. I could tell he was desperately trying to hold back, but my technique is ruthless. It took fifteen seconds before he exploded helplessly in my hungry mouth. Again, I savoured the minute differences, as at a wine-tasting.

Rich came almost as soon as my agile lips had closed around the head of his cock. His hips jerked and he fucked my mouth involuntarily, squirting his seed right to the back of my throat.

Ahmed was fifth. His cock was heavy and he had more pubic hair than the others. I wondered if he alone of the boys might not be a virgin. I gave him all I had got, both hands squeezing the base of his cock and his taut scrotum, jaws working overtime, lips tight around the shaft. He leaked precum onto my tongue but it was twenty seconds, they said, before he gave an agonised shout and almost choked me with a massive flood of sperm. I gulped it down, to join the other loads already nestling in my stomach.

Now only Paul, my own son, was left. I knelt in front of him and looked up. His cock was straining to the heavens. In his face I saw shock, lust, indecision, and love, all mixed. 

‘You want?’ I whispered. He nodded mutely. I slid my lips, by now somewhat tender, along his smooth shaft, and coiled my tongue around his pulsing glans. I felt his hands caressing my hair tenderly.

‘Oh mum!’ he groaned, and climaxed. My son’s spunk flooded my mouth and I let it sluice down my throat gratefully. I kept my lips sealed around him until he had stopped throbbing and his cock had started to soften. He staggered back and I sat up and burped wetly. The lads were looking at me with open mouths. I saw that some of their cocks were already starting to swell again.

‘So, who won?’ 

‘Ahmed. 20 seconds. Jesus, Mrs Martin. What’s the prize, then?’

I stood up and stretched, my tits lifting. I could fell my nipples puckering to even greater hardness. A drop of warm juice trickled down my inner thigh.

‘The prize,’ I said, grinning, ‘is to be the first one to fuck me. Congratulations, Ahmed!’

I knelt on all fours on the grass and spread my legs, pushing my arse upwards and my pubes backwards. I could feel my pussy lips, already engorged, open like the petals of a flower, and the cool air tingled against my hot membranes. I knew that my dark anus was also proudly on display. There were grunts of lust.

Warm hands gripped my hips and I felt a cock worm its way between my labia. It slid into my hot cavity until pubic hair was tickling my thighs and arse. I squeezed with my well-developed internal muscles, and Ahmed gave a groan and began to thrust powerfully. I let myself be pulled back and forth onto his shaft; it rasped delightfully across my vaginal walls. I could feel my tits swinging. The others crowded round to watch Ahmed’s cock pumping in and out.

Although you’d be surprised at how much I can insert into my cunt, I can also make it very tight if I want to. I clamped down on the cock at every stroke, drawing grunts of bliss from the lad, and it wasn’t too long before he couldn’t hold back. He pulled my arse back onto him, forcing his cock deep into my innards, and I felt him pulse inside me, filling me with another dose of hot sperm.

He withdrew, and I stayed on all fours, feeling a trickle of semen emerge from my gaping tunnel and slide over my clitoris to drip onto the grass. Without any urging, another lad knelt behind me and fed his rock-hard erection into my waiting entrance ...

My knees were starting to ache by the time five of them had fucked me and spent themselves. There was a sizeable puddle of thick semen underneath me, and my labia were swollen and tender - they had not been used to such action latterly. I raised my head and saw Paul, my son, standing in front of me staring. His cock was reddened and ultra-hard.

‘Come on, don’t be the odd one out,’ I murmured. I wanted to feel him of all people inside me. He looked at me with an unreadable expression, then moved around behind me. Shortly I felt a cock slide into me, and my vagina grasped it eagerly.

‘Oh mum!’ he groaned. ‘Oh fuck!’ His hands clutched at my hips and he began to thrust furiously, desperately, driving his cock hard against my cervix. All his pent-up adolescent lusts seemed to be behind his relentless pistoning. I felt my orgasm swelling. He rammed an extra inch into me, almost painfully, and climaxed with a great shout. My orgasm exploded and my vagina spasmed around his throbbing cock, milking his semen remorselessly. Time seemed to stop as we pulsed together, mother and son, joined in congress ...

I stayed on all fours after he had withdrawn, panting, limbs aching, sweat cooling on my back, juices trickling from my gaping vagina. Eventually gentle hands helped me to stand, and I hugged their naked bodies gratefully.

‘Come on, we need a swim after that,’ I said, and they helped me down to the lake where we lay in the cool water. I could feel it rinsing away the contents of my pussy - making room for more, a little voice in my head whispered. 

That seemed to be the general consensus too. After we had recovered somewhat, the lads carried me out onto the grass and dried us off. I was feeling relaxed and very horny, so I showed them how a woman could easily take two and three cocks into her at a time. With adolescent vigour, they were all hard again and this time could last much longer before erupting smaller but thicker gouts of semen inside me. They were all astounded at how easily my arsehole would stretch to accept their erections, and how it was just as well-toned and hungry as my cunt. On into the evening we fucked, in every combination we could devise. I even managed to get two cocks in my cunt at the same time, once the boys had overcome their reluctance to touch each other.

Paul kept his end up well - I was glad he had no inhibitions about fucking his mother in whatever way she suggested. I lost count of how many times each of them came. It was well into the night before I had drained all six of every atom of sperm they possessed and they were snoring, exhausted both physically and emotionally. I was feeling weary and tender but surprisingly wide-awake - and just as horny as ever. I lay on the grass and watched the meteors overhead and masturbated slowly and luxuriously. 

It had been twenty years since I had had so much sex in one day - twenty years too long, I said to myself. I recalled my pre-marital career as a porn star - one of the best and most extreme in the business, I’m proud to say. Well, maybe I wasn’t too old to start again ...

MILF

© Copyright britslut 2006. No re-use allowed without permission.

 

It was hot in the garden and I was wearing just a sleeveless cut-off top and denim shorts, both very tatty and dirty. I was sweaty and dusty and my hair was all over the place. I’d just gone inside to get myself a glass of home-made lemonade from the fridge when there was a knock at the door.

It was Richard, one of my son’s friends in the lower sixth at school. Richard is tall, black and handsome. He’s also frighteningly intelligent and excels at every sport – one of the jackpot winners in life’s lottery. My son says he’s tipped to be Head Boy next year. I expect all the girls yearn for a glance from those deep brown eyes – certainly I could fancy him myself if I allowed it. He’s also polite, well-spoken and utterly charming – I think they teach them how to charm us oldies these days.

‘Hello, Mrs Martin,’ he said is his velvety voice, giving me a gleaming smile. ‘Is John in?’

I was conscious of my scruffy appearance, and lost any cool I might have possessed. ‘Uh, no, he’s gone into town. I don’t know how long he’ll be. Sorry.’

‘Oh, that’s a shame. We said we might go for a run together.’ Indeed, he was attired in a flimsy vest and running shorts which showed off his magnificent youthful physique to perfection. Oh, if I were twenty years younger, I could go for you in a big way, I thought.

‘Have you tried his mobile?’

‘No … I don’t have mine on me.’

‘It’s OK, give him a ring. You know where the phone is.’ Richard had been to our house many times and had even stayed over once or twice. 

‘That’s very kind of you, Mrs Martin.’ He went off into the living room but was soon back.

‘Voicemail. He must have it switched off.’ My son, unusually among his peers, often didn’t bother with his mobile.

‘Maybe he’ll be back soon. I was just getting myself a drink. Would you like some home-made lemonade?’

‘Well … it is very good, I know. If you’re sure …’

I washed my hands and poured us two generous glasses, conscious of his nearness. 

‘Shall we sit outside?’ I carried the glasses to the bench halfway down the garden. It’s surrounded by bushes and not overlooked - I have been known to sunbathe nude by it. Richard sat next to me, his bare, muscular thigh about two inches from mine. We made small talk about school, what he hoped to do after leaving (study law at Cambridge – where he would no doubt get a First). We fell silent – he seemed ill at ease.

‘Mrs Martin –‘ he began, hesitantly.

‘Please, call me Gina, won’t you?’

‘Gina … can I say something?’

‘Yes, of course.’

‘Mrs … Gina, I think you’re really attractive.’ I could see him blush even under his dark skin. But he nevertheless held my eyes. I didn’t know what to say – I could feel a fluttering in my stomach.

‘Well … thanks! It’s good to have a compliment.’

‘No, I mean it.’ Bolder now, he put his warm hand on my knee. ‘I think you’re the most beautiful woman I know.’

I tried to deflect it with a joke. ‘Even covered in sweat and dirt?’

‘Especially like that.’

‘Nah, I’m far too old. You’ve got thousands of pretty young girls out there.’

He shook his head. ‘They’re just young girls. You’re a real woman. You’re so sexy ...’

I couldn’t tear my eyes away from his. I felt a warmth growing between my thighs. It was ages since anyone had told me I was sexy. Even if he was only 17, he was still very handsome … the next few seconds were unclear, and then we were kissing, passionately, deeply. He may have scorned young girls but he must have been practising with them. I felt a sudden surge of lust – it was ages too since I had been kissed with such ardour. His hands roamed over my body, tentatively at first, then more boldly. I felt my own hands, with a life of their own, exploring his arms, broad shoulders, chest and thighs. 

He was massaging my aching breasts, making the nipples stiffen, all the while our mouths locked into a endless kiss, tongues lashing, saliva churning. I realised that my hand was resting on his shorts where a large fat cylinder lay across his stomach. On autopilot, I freed it from its thin restraints and held it in my fist, marvelling at the size and hardness. 

Richard gave a groan and I felt his cock jerk. Warm liquid sprayed across my front, landing on my neck and shoulders and arm. It was like a fountain. He broke off our kiss and looked down, as did I. My top and shorts, and most of my exposed skin, was splattered with globules of semen. His cock continued to leak over my fist and onto his shorts. 

‘Oh god! I’m so sorry, Mrs Martin! I didn’t mean …’ The poor lad was mortified. I was trying not to giggle.

‘It’s OK, don’t worry. I don’t mind. It’s rather a compliment, really!’

‘You mean it? Oh, I’m so sorry!’

‘It’s nice to know I can still make a lad lose control …’ I kissed him gently. I noticed that his cock had not softened but was still as rigid as before. I had forgotten the magical powers of teenage boys.

‘Well, you’d better get these wet clothes off and clean me up, hadn’t you?’ I said, trying to get him out of his semi-shock. His mouth still open, the lad fumblingly lifted my top over my head and groaned when he saw my naked breasts with their big hard nipples. He dabbed at the spunk on my chest with the top.

‘The shorts are wet too,’ I said softly, standing up. He knelt on the grass and undid the button, then eased the shorts over my hips. He groaned again when he saw that I was not wearing panties (it was a very hot day) and that my pubes had been trimmed to just a neat triangle. I wondered if he could smell my moist arousal – I could.

‘Better get your shorts off too,’ I said. ‘Stand up.’ Now it was my turn to kneel before him and expose his maleness. His cock bobbed before my eyes, black and solid. I’ve not had many men but he was definitely at the upper end of the distribution. I bent forward and licked the drop of semen from its tip, then wet my lips and slowly pressed his cock between them, letting it slide gradually into my mouth, keeping a tight seal around the shaft.

‘Oh Gina!’ he moaned and his hips jerked and my mouth was suddenly filled with a warm sticky flood. God, this lad came easily! I wondered how many times he could rise to the occasion. I swallowed his emission down and released his cock, which this time began to soften slightly.

‘I … I don’t usually come this fast,’ he said, sheepishly. ‘It’s you … you’re so much sexier than the girls …’

‘I’m feeling sexier at the moment,’ I said, standing and letting my nipples rub against his vest. ‘Let’s go inside and you can show how grateful you are.’ I held his cock and pulled him along after me – it didn’t take much force. By the time we were upstairs in my bedroom he was hard again.

I pulled the duvet off the bed and lay on my back on the sheet, feeling wanton. I had a virile young toy-boy to play with and I was going to make the most of it. I spread my thighs and beckoned to him.

Richard was obviously training to be a New Man because instead of lying on top of me and penetrating me he lay between my legs and began to lick my pussy lips, already swelling and moist. Again, he must have practised, for he showed himself to be as good at pussy-eating as all his other sports. He locked his mouth against my clit and wrapped his arms around my hips and gave it all he had. In a short while I had climaxed, fiercely, wetly, achingly, and this was followed by several more in quick succession.

My vagina began to demand attention. I twined my fingers in his wiry hair and pulled his head away from my crotch. His face glistened with my juices. ‘Fuck me,’ I demanded. ‘Hard.’

He rose up, his cock huge and swollen, and plunged into me, filling my hungry vagina completely. There was a loud farting sound as he displaced the air in it, which made me giggle. He planted his hands beside my shoulders and arched his back and pumped into me like a steam-hammer. The lad was ultra-fit for he didn’t slacken his rhythm for what must have been fifteen minutes. By then I had come twice more. I hadn’t had a shag like it for decades. I could feel the juice squelching out of me and soaking into the sheet. Sweat was running down his face and chest and dripping onto me. I gripped his waist and rode his thrusts, lifting my hips to allow him even further into me, hooking my ankles together around his waist.

Finally his rhythm increased and he gave a loud shout and I felt his cock pulse over and over again as he emptied another ball-load of spunk deep inside me. He collapsed onto my front, panting like a sprinter. I squeezed his cock to milk another few drops out of him.

When he had got his breath back he kissed me deeply. ‘Jesus, Gina, that was the best fuck I’ve ever had.’

‘Better than all those young girls?’

‘No comparison. Most of them say I’m too big anyway, and the others say I’m hurting them after a few minutes. I didn’t hurt you, did I?’

‘No … although I haven’t been fucked like that for a while. Roll over, you’re squashing me.’

We rolled onto our sides, arms around each other, his cock, now flaccid but still big, gripped snugly by my vaginal muscles. 

‘So have you had many girlfriends?’

‘Oh, quite a few. But no-one like you. You’re the sexiest woman in the world.’

‘Well, you’re not so bad yourself, you know.’ I squeezed his cock again and to my amazement felt it begin to swell. This boy was insatiable! I kept on squeezing and he grew to full hardness, giving me a sheepish grin. I grinned too and rolled him onto his back, lifting myself on my arms. Now I could ride him, and I was determined to give him – and me – the ride of our lives.

My breasts swung in front of his face and he lifted his head to lick and suck at the big nipples, sending shivers down my spine. Meanwhile I was gyrating my hips over his, pulling his erection from side to side, literally stirring my spunk-filled vagina with it. I began to rise and fall, liquids squishing out loudly around his shaft. Normally with a second fuck I have to keep my vagina tight, to give the man enough friction. Richard was thick enough that I didn’t need to. His eyes rolled up into his head with the blissful sensations I was giving him, while his hands roamed over my waist and buttocks, exploring my taut anus, the whole area awash with fluids. 

I rose up as far as I could without losing him, then slammed down with a slap, feeling his cockhead thump against my cervix, again and again. I sat back and wriggled my hips, feeling his cock pushing up among my innards, then lay back, my hands on his ankles, rasping his shaft along the front of my tunnel. He craned his head so he could watch his dark column disappearing into my pink flesh. In one position I could rub my clit against the soaking, wiry hairs at the base of his cock, and pumped faster and faster, feeling the orgasm swelling in me. My breasts bounced wildly, droplets of sweat flying. Moaning like an animal I came furiously, clutching at the hardness inside me. Richard gripped my hips and forced me down, driving himself even deeper.

I lay on him, recovering, still impaled on his cock, our bodies slippery with sweat. His hands still roamed all over my tightly stretched buttocks and anus. ‘Put your finger in,’ I whispered, and felt his cock give a jerk. The idea obviously appealed to him. I felt a fat finger ease its way into my sphincter, and began to ride him once more, slowly at first, then harder. All the while his finger fucked my arsehole. We lost ourselves in an orgy of sweat, pumping bodies, slapping wet flesh and clutching orifices. I came again, without really trying, and this time it triggered his own climax and he pumped yet more semen into my boiling cavity.

We collapsed in a wet tangle of limbs, and the next thing I knew I awoke feeling chilly and stiff. The lad was awake, holding me in his arms, looking at me seriously. He kissed me tenderly.

‘Oh, have I been asleep for long?’ I mumbled.

‘I didn’t know, I’ve been dozing myself.’

‘God, what a mess,’ I giggled, feeling the sheet wet and sticky under us, and the fluids cooling on my skin. ‘We need a shower.’ I peeled myself off him and stood up. He lay, nude and black, perfectly relaxed, smiling at me, his cock – amazingly – erect again. I felt another surge of lust. This was like a dream …

‘Come on, you can soap me down!’ I was pretty sure what that would lead to. We stepped into the big shower and turned the water on. His cock bobbed against my thigh. We lathered each other down, paying special attention to the intimate bits. It was ages since I had showered with a lover and had forgotten how delicious it felt. The urge to couple rose up in me, despite the tenderness in my pussy, until I couldn’t think of anything else. We kissed passionately under the water – he was slightly taller than me. His cock pressed into my stomach.

I turned round, bending from the waist, holding onto the taps, the water sluicing onto my back, and thrust my bum at him. He got the hint and fed his cock into my swollen, hungry pussy. My engorged lips sucked him in eagerly. His gripped my hips and commenced a vigorous doggy-fuck, one of my favourite positions, his loins slapping against my buttocks. I relaxed and gave myself up to the endless pounding. What stamina this boy had!

Feeling another climax swelling, I reached down and fingered my hard, swollen clit. I could feel his shaft sliding back and forth between my lips. It took only a few touches on my nub to crest the wave and come fiercely, my knees going weak. I heard strange animal noises coming from my mouth. Richard’s pounding rose to a climax and he released another volley of semen deep inside me.

Feeling a little wobbly, we dried each other and staggered to the bed. Fortunately the wet patch was at one side so we lay on the other.

‘How many times can you come in a day?’ I asked him idly. 

‘Five’s my record,’ he grinned. ‘But I have to space them out usually. What about you?’

‘Oh, I’m a woman, you know, the sky’s the limit.’

‘So … do you masturbate? If you don’t mind my asking.’

I laughed. ‘Yes, of course I do. Most women do. I bet all your girlfriends do.’

‘They don’t admit to it, not to me anyway.’

‘Well, I admit it. And I did it when I was their age too, quite a lot!’

‘How often?’

I kissed his nose. ‘How often would you like me to do it?’

‘Mmm, all the time, maybe?’

I felt a stirring against my thigh and reached down. ‘Looks like we might be going for the personal best today, eh?’

‘It looks like it …’

I climbed across him and lay reversed, in classic 69 position. I took his swelling cock in my mouth and felt him part my labia with his fingers and insert his tongue – he had a very long and fat tongue – into my tunnel. I smiled to myself. This was going to be a very good one.

We were in no rush and could spin out the crescendo of excitement as long as we wanted. He teased my clit gently, obviously sensing that it was tender – what a considerate boy – while I licked and sucked his shaft, keeping him on the boil but not too close to the edge. His balls tightened until they were just hard corrugated eggs. I wormed a finger into his anus and massaged his prostate gently, rewarded by drops of pre-cum leaking out onto my tongue. He chewed and licked and sucked my grossly enlarged labia, eagerly swallowing the juices that oozed out of me continuously. His tongue teased my taut perineum and wormed its way into my anus – I was pleased he had no inhibitions in that respect.

Gradually, very gradually, we stoked the fires of orgasm anew. They were going to be big ones, I could tell. Every muscles in my body was singing with tension. His cock was as hard as concrete, straining into my mouth. His tongue, just resting against my clit, was driving me insane with pent-up excitement. I wanted to come, but I didn’t want it ever to end …

When the climax finally hit I had to take his cock out of my mouth to give vent to my release, loudly and agonisingly. My whole body shook and pulsed and jerked. The climax continued until I ached all over. My fists gripped his cock as if to crush it.

‘Looks like you’re having fun,’ said a voice. John, my son, stood there at the foot of the bed with an amused smile. I raised my head and looked at him through misty eyes, too orgasmic to feel shock or shame. At that moment Richard climaxed and a jet of thick spunk hit me on the nose. My head fell and further gouts of semen oozed onto my chin.

‘Oh god,’ I thought, even as my throbs died away slowly. ‘My son has discovered me having sex – glorious, messy, obscene sex – with his friend. He has seen his friend’s face buried in his mother’s pussy. He has seen his friend’s spunk spurting into his mother’s face. He has seen me having the biggest orgasm of recent years … How can I ever look at him again?’

Dimly I heard Richard chuckling. ‘You owe me ten quid, I think,’ he said.

‘OK, it was worth it,’ John said. ‘I reckon Mum needed it bad. Have you been at it since ten o’clock ?’

‘Pretty much. She’s hot! That was my sixth cum. Not bad, eh?’

I raised my head. I felt I ought to join in the conversation, since they were talking about me. ‘What’s this about ten quid, then?’

John sat on the bed and rested his hand on my sweaty back. ‘Promise you won’t be angry with me?’

‘I’m promising nothing.’

John passed me a tissue to wipe the spunk off my face – what a considerate son he was.

‘I bet Richard ten quid he wouldn’t have sex with you.’

‘So this was all for a bet!’ I sat up, heedless of the fact that I was naked and my loins were covered in sex-juice.

‘Not really. I knew Richard fancied you. And I know what it’s been like for you since Dad died.’

‘What do you know?’ 

‘You and Dad had a very physical relationship. And you’re a very sexy woman. And you don’t seem able to meet the right blokes. So I figured you might need some action ...’

I couldn’t feel cross with him, especially with the post-orgasmic endorphins still coursing through my veins. He had my best interests at heart, bless him. 

‘But as for you, young man,’ I turned to Richard who was looking a little scared. ‘All this stuff about me being the sexiest woman you know - that was just for a bet?’

‘No, Mrs Martin, honest. I meant it. We all did. And you are.’

‘All?’

‘You were voted Number One MILF,’ John said, trying not to grin.

‘What’s a MILF?’ I said, suspecting I knew the answer.

‘It stands for Mom I’d Like to Fuck,’ they both said in unison. ‘American,’ added John. ‘We had a vote - the first team - and you came top. By a long way.’

I laughed. ‘Who did you vote for?’ I asked Richard.

‘You, of course,’ he squeaked. ‘We had a sweepstake. The first guy to have sex with you got ten quid from everyone. But I would have done it for free.’

‘So this whole thing was a set-up?’

John hedged. ‘Well ... not really. We did it for you.’

I considered. Here I was sitting naked and wet with two young lads, one of them also naked, discussing my sexual needs. For some reason it made me feel very powerful - and daring.

‘Who did you vote for?’ I asked my son.

He hung his head. ‘It’s secret.’

I had noticed the growing bulge in his shorts earlier. Now I reached out and put my hand on it. ‘Tell me.’

‘I voted for you too, mum.’

‘Good - I expected nothing less. Well, now that that’s out in the open, what are you waiting for? Let’s see if you can beat Richard’s record.’

-------

He did. It was evening by the time we were sated. Richard brought us food and drink (another of his talents) to sustain us through our exertions. He didn’t seem fazed by the sight of me having sex with my son in a variety of ways and positions. In fact, from his renewed erection, he seemed to enjoy it.

We had moved to the spare bed by then, as mine was soaked. John lay face down, dozing. I was proud of him. My pussy and other regions had gone through the pain barrier and my body felt like it could carry on for ever. I wondered whether to start again with Richard.

‘So how many votes did I get?’ I asked.

‘Votes?’

‘For number one MILF.’

‘Oh ... nine, I think. Out of fifteen.’

‘Why don’t you invite them round then?’

  Kate

© Copyright britslut 2004. No re-use allowed without permission.

 

Peter had gone into the office on Saturday morning to finish off some reports. When he arrived he found that Kate was already there, sitting at the terminal opposite. Kate was the 15-year-old daughter of one of his colleagues, Valerie. She paid the girl pocket money to do data entry. Kate was a small, slim girl with long brown hair, pretty apart from an habitual sullen pout.

 

Peter said hello and got on with his work. He kept glancing, however, at the girl. He had only ever seen her in her rather severe school uniform and was distracted by the thin white blouse, high-heeled sandals and short black leather miniskirt that she was wearing. Her pale slim legs were bare and Peter found himself trying to see up her thighs. Her slouch meant that the hem of the skirt was riding ever higher and eventually he was rewarded by a glimpse of a tiny white vee of cotton panties.

 

Kate was not unaware of his gaze. He was a handsome man in his late thirties and her hormones had been driving her mad recently. She found it hard to concentrate on her work. Deliberately she let the skirt ride up even more, opening her thighs slightly. She looked up at him and their eyes met.

 

‘You looking at my knickers?’ Kate said softly. He flushed but said nothing.

 

‘That’s very naughty,’ she whispered. ‘What if I told mum?’ She got up and came across to him, kneeling in front of his chair and pushing his knees apart. She put her small hand on the bulge in his trousers.

 

‘You think I’m sexy?’

 

Peter swallowed. ‘You’re incredibly sexy, Kate. But I don’t think you should be doing this.’

 

‘What, this?’ Kate unzipped his fly and extracted his cock. She had only ever seen boys’ cocks before and was surprised, and excited, by its length and thickness. Peter gave a little moan as she held it in her small cool fist. He couldn’t resist as the girl bent his rigid cock forward and took the end between her neat lips. She swirled her tongue around the big fat plum and then slid her lips down the shaft.

 

The 15-year-old had sucked cocks before but she had trouble getting this full-size adult version into her mouth. Only about a third of it went in before it hit the back of her throat and made her gag. So she concentrated on the sensitive head and stroked the base with her fist - it seemed to do the trick as Peter jerked his hips and moaned. She used all her limited experience to spin him out but eventually she could tell that he was on the point of coming. 

 

Kate bent his cock downwards and rested it on her lower lip, opening her mouth wide. She tickled his frenum with the tip of her tongue, and he gave a huge groan and spurted a warm jet of spunk into her mouth. She kept her jaws wide open so that he could see the semen pooling in her mouth as he continued to spurt helplessly. When he had finished she closed her lips around his shaft, making him shudder, and swallowed the warm cloying sticky load.

 

She released his softening organ and grinned at him. Peter had a look of shock on his face - he had not expected this young girl to let him ejaculate in her mouth and then to swallow it too.

 

‘God, that was the sexiest thing ever,’ he muttered. ‘Come on, your turn to be eaten now.’

 

With his big hands he lifted her up and sat her on the edge of his desk, then pushed her backwards so that she was lying flat with her legs hanging over the edge. He pushed her thighs apart and Kate felt him hook his fingers into her panties and drag them down her legs. She wondered if he would notice that the crotch was wet with her juice. He pushed her thighs wide apart and she could sense his eyes exploring every inch of her young body. Her pubes were lightly flossed with brown hair but she knew, from self-inspection, that this did not hide her full lips and prominent slit.

 

Peter bent forward, her adolescent musk filling his nostrils, and kissed her pussy gently. She bucked her hips, desperate to feel his tongue on her. She was not disappointed, and for the next fifteen minutes she writhed in ecstasy as his expert mouth worked on her pussy, sucking and pulling her lips, penetrating her girlish tunnel with his tongue, and worrying and licking her prominent clitoris. She could tell that he had had quite a lot of experience at it, unlike the few boys she had let kiss her there. 

 

Kate did not believe how aroused he could make her without allowing her to cum. She was crying and humping and weeping with bliss before he gave her clit a particularly heavy sucking and she exploded with a massive orgasm that throbbed through her whole body and left her weak and shaking. She could feel wetness flowing down over her ass.

 

Peter sat back and looked at her pink, swollen, sodden crotch. His cock was at full hardness again and he wondered how tight she would be.

 

Kate struggled up on her elbows, her head swimming and her eyes misty. She too was hornier than she had ever felt.

 

‘Fuck me,’ she husked.

 

‘I’m worried I’m too big for you,’ he said, and she shook her head.

 

‘You don’t think I’m a virgin, do you? Have you got any condoms?’

 

‘Shit, no,’ he said.

 

‘Well you’d better get some then,’ Kate said, revelling in her new-found power over this big man.

 

‘Shit, I don’t know where ... there’s isn’t a machine in the loos here. I’ll go to the pub next door, they’ve got one.’

 

Kate grinned at him and waggled her hips. ‘ Don’t be long!’

 

Peter tucked his cock back in and dashed out. It took him at least ten minutes to find a condom machine and fumblingly buy a packet. By the time he returned he was convinced that Kate would have disappeared, leaving him horny and frustrated. Entering the office, at first he couldn’t see her. The she stepped out from behind a cupboard.

 

The 15-year-old girl was completely naked. Her slender body was pale and her breasts small, the nipples puffy pink nubs. Without her high heels she looked much smaller and younger and Peter wondered again at the wisdom of what he was about to do.

 

‘Got some?’ she smiled, and pushed him gently down into a chair, unzipping his fly. His cock sprang out eagerly and once again she was taken aback at its size. Hurriedly he rolled a condom onto it, and Kate climbed onto the chair and squatted down over his hips. The tendons in her crotch were taut and made her thighs look even slimmer. Her pussy gaped blatantly. 

 

He held his cock vertically and she manoeuvred its tip between her lips, then sank down a few inches. She felt her entrance stretch alarmingly and almost backed off, but she was too horny to stop now. She lowered herself down slowly onto him, letting her weight force apart the walls of her tight tunnel. Peter’s head was thrown back and his eyes closed as he savoured the sensation entering the tightest vagina he had ever known.

 

Grunting softly, Kate continued to force the huge cock into her, the muscles in her legs knotting with the position she was in. The pain grew and she could not stifle a cry as something inside her ripped and suddenly the massive organ was deep inside her, filling her up utterly. Her feet slipped off the chair and she sat down hard on his hips, burying his entire cock in her aching pussy. She could feel his pubic hair tickling her swollen clitoris. The cock felt like it was halfway up her chest.

 

Peter grasped her slim hips and looked at her in amazement. ‘Doesn’t that hurt?’ he asked.

 

Kate shook her head, her whole body trembling. ‘No ...  I mean, yes ... oh my god.’ She started to gyrate her hips a little, rubbing her clit over his pubes. ‘That’s better ... I’m so full ... ‘

 

He took some of the weight on his hands while she got her feet back on the sides of the chair and got into a squatting position again. In this position she could take as much or as little of the cock into her as she wanted. Kate bounced up and down, tentatively at first and then harder, taking more and more of his length into her on each stroke. In this position too, both of them could watch as the rubber-coated shaft slid in and out of her entrance - Kate craning her head forward to see. (She had thoughtfully tied her hair back with a rubber band before sucking him off.)

 

Peter reached forward and stroked her protruding clit with his finger and Kate was so aroused by what was happening that she had a mini-climax almost immediately. She increased the pace and violence of her bouncing, feeling his big hands guiding her hips, and knew that he was about to come too. As his cock swelled and burst inside her, her feet slipped off again and she was impaled to the hilt on his climaxing shaft. The feeling set off her own orgasm and her pussy contracted painfully around his rock-hard column, drawing yet more spurts from his cock. The two lovers, young girl and older man, throbbed together for some moments.

 

Kate struggled off him. Her pussy was sore and she felt bruised inside. Despite that she was deeply happy and relaxed. Peter went to pull the condom off his softening cock and noticed a smear of blood on it.

 

‘You were a virgin, weren’t you Kate?’ he asked in a hushed voice.

 

‘Maybe I was,’ she replied, not looking at him. She wiped her crotch gingerly with a tissue and he watched in fascination as the young girl dressed herself in her small white panties and bra, then the blouse and miniskirt, and finally the sandals. He thought that it was almost as sexy as a striptease.

 

Kate untied her hair and shook it, then looked at him defiantly. Her face was flushed and her eyes wet. 

 

‘I’m OK,’ she said, although her pussy felt like it was on fire. She wished she had not put the panties back on. ‘What time is it?’

 

He looked at his watch. ‘Twelve.’

 

‘Mum said she’d come and pick me up about now. Funny if she’d walked in on us screwing, eh?’  

Queen

© Copyright britslut 2005. No re-use allowed without permission.

 

I met him at a club in London - a rather more upmarket place than I usually go, but it was a friend’s birthday and we were pushing the boat out. He was the most physically gorgeous guy I had ever set eyes on: tall, a perfect physique, tanned face and immaculately coiffured blond hair, classical clean-jawed good looks, a wide smile with lots of teeth, and eyes that said ‘sex’. It sounds stereotyped, and maybe he was, but it was a stereotype that got me damp between the legs and determined to bed him as soon as I could.

 

You mustn’t think I’m a sex-hungry girl who preys on men, though. At 29 I’ve had a fair number of lovers and have become pretty discriminating in whom I pursue. But I have the looks to be fairly irresistible if I want to be, and those I pursue almost always get caught. Whether they stay caught for long is another matter; I get bored easily and it takes a vigorous and inventive man to keep me amused in the bedroom for more than a few weeks. In fact, if we stay in the bedroom that’s a bad sign.

 

So I zeroed my sights on Mr Hunk, ignoring my friends, and went in for the kill. He was with a group of richly-dressed guys and a few tarty females, so it took me a while to separate him off. 

 

‘Hi,’ I said, flashing my smile and my cleavage, ‘I’m Cindy. What’s your name? I want to dance with you.’ I don’t believe in beating about the bush.

 

‘My name’s Rock,’ he said, in an American accent. ‘Why do you want to dance with me?’

 

‘Because you’re gorgeous. And I love your accent.’

 

He laughed. ‘OK. Just one dance.’

 

Talk about playing hard to get. We moved onto the floor and I did my sinuous bit close up to him so we could talk.

 

‘You live in London ?’

 

‘No, I’m on vacation,’ he said. ‘I live in California . 

 

‘ California , eh? You in films? TV?’

 

‘You could say that.’ He grinned.

 

‘Hey, am I missing something? Are you really famous and I don’t recognise you?’

 

He grinned and shook his head. ‘No, you wouldn’t recognise me. Not that sort of famous. Say, what about you? You live here? What do you do?’

 

‘Yeah, I’m a Londoner. Work in advertising. Someone has to. I’m 29, single, own house, like to have fun. That’s me in a nutshell.’

 

‘That’s great. Say, I have to go now. Nice to meet you.’

 

I was pissed off. I’d been zapping him with my charm and my tits for all I was worth (making my panties very damp in the process) and he hadn’t responded.

 

‘Hey, do I smell or something?’

 

‘No, why?’

 

‘I’m a woman, you’re a man. Let’s at least get to know each other before we say goodbye.’

 

‘You don’t want to get to know me, Cindy.’ At least he remembered my name. ‘You’re a lovely girl. Believe me, I’m not your sort of guy.’

 

‘Why, are you gay?’

 

He laughed hugely. ‘Gay! No! Not in the slightest! No, I really do have to go. My friends are taking me somewhere. It’s been nice talking to you.’

 

‘Maybe we could meet up for a coffee tomorrow. Eh? What’s your phone number?’ I was getting desperate. This guy was the hunkiest specimen of manhood I had ever met and I was determined not to let him escape.

 

His smile softened. ‘Ok, if you insist. But no strings, huh?’ He told me his mobile number and I wrote it on my palm, making a mental note not to masturbate until I’d copied it off. He did leave with his mates, it wasn’t just an excuse. I think. I got some stick from my friends; they knew that Cindy usually scores. 

 

----

 

I rang him mid-morning, and had the impression he had just got up. His voice was husky and sent moist shivers down into my pussy. I persuaded him to meet me for lunch at a little place in Soho . What to wear? Tight black pants, a thong so as to avoid the VPL, a tight red top that left my navel, with its stud, bare. I’m proud of my figure and like people to see its shape.

 

Rock was already in the café when I arrived, a nominal five minutes late. I didn’t want to seem too eager. He shook my hand formally and I leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek, smelling his expensive aftershave.

 

‘You decided I was safe to get to know, then,’ I grinned at him.

 

‘How could I resist your English charm?’

 

We chatted inconsequentially about how London had changed since he had been here last, about my job, his dogs, terrorism, and all the time I was wondering how I could get him back to my place and test out his equipment. He steadfastly refused to flirt. I asked him about his film work, what he did.

 

‘You’re a nice girl, Cindy, you don’t want to know.’

 

I pressed him. ‘Tell me. I’ll sulk if you don’t.’

 

He sighed. ‘This is where they all make an excuse and leave. I’m in the sex industry. I’m a porn star.’

 

I felt my eyes widening, although maybe I should have guessed. ‘Really? A porn star? Oh wow.’ For once I was lost for words.

 

‘It’s just a job.’

 

‘So you … make love to women … and things. On camera. Wow. Do you … enjoy it?’

 

‘So you don’t have deep-seated moral objections to the sex business?’

 

‘Hell, no. I’ve watched a few porn films in my time. They weren’t what you’d call art, but they … have their uses.’ I blushed and laughed. ‘I’ve often wondered what sort of people take part in them.’

 

‘People like me. We’re fairly ordinary really. Probably couldn’t get any other sort of job.’

 

‘So do you enjoy it?’

 

‘Honestly? Yes, I do. Sure, it’s a job, you have to turn up on time and do what you’re told, but …’

 

‘But you get to fuck lots of women.’ I hadn’t meant to be so blunt.

 

 He shrugged. ‘Yeah. There’s worse jobs.’ He grinned suddenly. ‘And it pays well.’

 

‘Really? I always thought women only did it because they were desperate.’

 

‘It’s different for men. There’s not so many who can do it. Women, yes, they’re a dollar a dozen. A few make a lot of bucks out of it, but they have to have something special.’

 

‘Different for men because … it’s harder to perform to order?’ I was enjoying this conversation. Rock seemed genuinely keen to explain the business to me and his voice was making me very wet.

 

‘You got it. Every guy thinks he could satisfy a dozen women, but when you put them in front of the camera, with other guys looking on … they kinda wilt.’

 

‘Do you ever wilt?’ This was getting very personal, but I guessed that Rock had few inhibitions.

 

‘Of course. Now and then. But there’s ways and means. It’s willpower, mostly.’

 

‘You must have had … I mean, professionally … hundreds of women.’

 

‘Thousands,’ he said simply. ‘Thousands. But I rarely get to know their names even - and they mostly use pseudonyms. We don’t date afterwards, if that’s what you think.’

 

‘I heard that most porn actresses were lesbians.’

 

‘I wouldn’t know. As long as they can act convincingly …’

 

‘This may seem like a silly question, but … Doesn’t it devalue sex for you? Do you have girlfriends? Lovers?’

 

His face seemed to sag a little. ‘Yes, of course it does. Like being a gynaecologist, I guess. And not many girls want to be Miss Three thousand two hundred forty-one. And … ‘

 

‘But you’re on vacation now. No work for two weeks?’

 

‘That’s right. I can afford to take off a few times a year.’

 

‘And do you … have a busman’s holiday?’

 

He frowned. ‘Oh, I see. That’s not an American expression. You mean - do I practise when I’m off duty?’

 

I grinned. ‘Yes. Do you?’

 

‘Not really. There’s … problems.’

 

‘What problems? Come on, you can tell me, I’m an adult. In case you hadn’t noticed.’ I stroked my breasts involuntarily, feeling my nipples harden.

 

He sighed again. ‘You really want to know?’

 

‘Cindy wants to know everything.’

 

‘We can’t talk here. I’ll get thrown out. Come on, let’s go for a walk in one of your quaint little parks.’

 

We sat down on a bench in the square. It was sunny and there weren’t any beggars around. I sat close to him and rested my arm on the back of the seat so I could look at his profile.

 

‘To make it big in the porn world, you have to have an angle. Something special. Like, a guy who can keep it up for hours on end. Or a massive cock.’

 

‘What’s your angle?’ I was hoping he had a massive cock; I do like to feel full.

 

‘Do you know what a facial is?’

 

‘It’s what I have at the salon.’

 

‘In porn, it’s when the man - or men - ejaculates into the woman’s face. It’s called a money shot. They always end like that.’

 

‘Why?’ I didn’t admit to him that I had seen films like that and it always triggered off my orgasm (if I was watching alone, that is).

 

‘Tradition! No, I guess it proves that the man isn’t faking. Or it humiliates the woman. Or both.’

 

‘Yeah, I suppose it does.’

 

‘Well, that’s my speciality. I produce a lot of jism. And I mean a lot. I can cover a woman’s face in it. That sells.’

 

‘Wow.’ If he carried on I was going to leave a wet patch on the seat. ‘So … you never cum inside a woman?’

 

‘Sometimes I do. Nowadays there’s a category called creampies. The porn industry loves categories. You heard of them?’

 

‘I suppose they’re not the sort you eat.’

 

‘Not unless … no, never mind. No, a creampie is when the man cums inside a woman, and she lets it leak out. You need a close-up shot. With me, she floods the shop.’

 

‘Wow,’ I said again.

 

‘So, now you know. Time to say goodbye.’

 

‘Hey, wait a second,’ I grabbed his arm. ‘What makes you think I want to say goodbye?’

 

‘Experience. It’s hardly a turn-on.’

 

I hesitated. ‘It’s not a turn-off … don’t you ever want to make love to a woman … as opposed to having sex with her?’

 

‘Oh sure. But …’ he shook his head. ‘It doesn’t work.’

 

I looked into his deep Hollywood-blue eyes. ‘I’d like to try.’

 

He grinned. ‘You’re not the first to say that. But it really doesn’t work.’

 

I put my hand on his thigh. It was warm and very firm. ‘Let’s go back to your hotel, where we will make love. Any way you want. And see if it works.’ God, he was hard work. 

 

‘It won’t.’

 

‘Look, I am putting myself on the line for you. I am pleading. Cindy never pleads for sex. But I am. And I’ll make a scene if you say no.’

 

His lips curled into a sort of smile. Was he just enjoying humiliating me? But I was being driven by the juices seeping out of my pussy and I didn’t care.

 

‘OK,’ he said. ‘But don’t say I didn’t warn you.’ 

 

This was a really good way to start a seduction.

 

We got a taxi to his hotel and in the back seat he held me tenderly and we kissed softly and passionately. He had obviously decided to give in with a good grace. But even as his expert kisses sent shivers down my neck and renewed the wetness in my panties, I found myself wondering if he was just acting. Oh well, as long as his acting was first-rate …

 

In the lift he cupped my buttocks and pressed his erection into my stomach. ‘First of all I’m going to eat you,’ he whispered, and I almost climaxed there and then. In the suite (very luxurious) he undressed me expertly and laid me on the bed, parting my thighs with gentle hands. Willingly I exposed my secrets to his gaze - I noticed he had turned all the lights on. He was obviously used to sex under bright lights. I had shaved myself thoroughly that morning and his tongue would not have detected the slightest trace of stubble.

 

He certainly took his time exploring all around my hips and buttocks and thighs and then my lips and ass and then between my lips and then, oh bliss, my demanding little clitoris. I wound my fingers into his golden hair and let rip with the noise, and I wasn’t acting. I wonder if he was surprised that I climaxed so readily - I had heard that all female screen orgasms were faked.

 

When I had come down to earth I undressed him and licked all over his body. I was amused to find that he was completely hairless - he must shave frequently all over. I didn’t ask him about it - Cindy doesn’t like to interrupt sex with conversation, preferring to reserve it for afterwards or before. It was a novel experience to suck a man’s balls without getting at least a few hairs loose in the mouth. His cock was not massive - on the large size of average, I would say with my fairly extensive experience - but solid and gently curved, circumcised and ultra-clean. But his balls were definitely off the scale - the size of duck eggs, they hung like a ram’s equipment. I recalled what he had said about producing jism, and shuddered with anticipation.

 

I fellated him at length, enjoying his easy hardness. I got the impression he could maintain his erection for hours, and I was in no particular hurry to make him cum. I wanted his cock to spend a lot of time inside me first.

 

And it did. We fucked in most of the positions that I had ever used, our smooth and slickly-wet mechanisms conjoining with tireless rhythm. He plumbed my hot cunt fifty times a minute for hours - interesting to calculate the total length of cock I received. I didn’t invite him into my ass, although I’m not averse to that, but I figured we could try that next time. Every so often, just for a rest, we would slip into a sixty-nine and I would make love to his juicy cock with my mouth and lips while he gave me another shattering climax, holding my lips wide open with his fingertips.

 

His balls had by now drawn up almost inside him, his scrotum just a big tight lump. His cock was as hard and upstanding as ever, and I wondered if he would ever cum. In fact, I was getting a little sore from the constant pounding. So I looked him in the eye, and grasped his cock with both hands and closed my mouth round its purple head. I was sitting on the edge of the bed and he was standing with his feet planted wide apart, his hips jutting towards me, the epitome of male power.

 

I sucked and wanked him with a will, and he must have consciously let go because he shuddered and grunted ‘Here it comes’. His cock went absolutely rigid and seemed to swell another inch. I trembled in that ecstatic moment when time stops and you know that very soon the spunk will be blasting out and there’s nothing you can do to stop it. I squeezed my thighs together …

 

And blast it did. His first gush filled my mouth with warm cloying liquid. I swallowed hurriedly and waited to receive the next, even bigger spurt. Nothing happened and I wondered if that was it. Then Rock groaned and shuddered and another huge gush filled my mouth to overflowing. I disposed of that OK, but the next one, after a pause of several seconds, caught me off-guard and spilled out down my chin. After that I decided not even to try and swallow it all. I sucked and stroked and Rock kept emitting these agonised groans and ejaculating these massive, slow gouts of spunk. I wondered when they would stop. But no, the long strings of whiteness just kept on coming, driven by my pumping fists which seemed to have a life of their own. They landed on my face and shot over my head to matt my hair. The thick ropes of semen began to slide down my forehead and over my eyelids, which was a shame as I wanted to keep watching the unbelievable sight of this cock spurting endlessly. 

 

Dimly I realised that an orgasm was trembling through my body. I wasn’t even touching myself, although my thighs were squeezed tightly together. I managed to bend his cock down slightly so that his emissions now landed on my cheeks and nose, and in my open mouth. Then further down to anoint my neck and tits. And it just kept on spurting out, until hardly a square inch of my upper body was left dry. Rock was grunting and moaning as if in pain, his hips jerking, the sweat dripping off his torso. Again I climaxed.

 

It seemed like hours before his spurts died away and only a few thick drops oozed from his cock. Even then it remained hard for minutes before finally softening. His knees were shaking and he sat down hard on the bed. I sat there feeling the cooling spunk slowly sliding down my skin. I couldn’t speak, not only because my mouth was full of semen, but because the experience had just been too incredible for words.

 

Rock roused himself and pulled me gently up, then turned me to face the big wall mirror. Through the gobbets matting my eyelids I saw that I was covered in whiteness from the top of my head to my stomach. Slowly I reached up and touched the slick, sticky goo on my breasts. I could see Rock behind me grinning tiredly. Then I put my hands flat against my wet stomach and slowly drew them upwards, gathering a great wave of cum. My palms slid viscously over my breasts with their achingly erect nipples, then up my neck to my face. I massaged the thick jism into my hair and face, then down again to my breasts and pinched my nipples as hard as I could. I felt another small orgasm surge through me, and I swayed into his arms.

 

I lay on top of him on the bed and we dozed. He didn’t object when I kissed him with spunk-coated lips.

 

‘Well?’ I said softly.

 

‘Well what?’

 

‘Did it work?’

 

‘I should say so! You are a very unusual girl, you know.’

 

‘Why?’

 

‘Women don’t like it when I squirt all over them. It turns them off.’

 

‘Really? It makes me cum,’ I said simply.

 

‘Mmm … you know, we do this shoot - you don’t mind me talking about my work?’

 

‘I like it.’

 

‘We do this thing, where we get girls off the street … we give them fifty dollars to be filmed sucking me off. Nice innocent girls, not slags. Most of them have sucked a cock before, though, and some have even had cum in their mouths. So they know what to expect, or they think they do.’

 

‘And they get a shock.’

 

‘You bet. Some of them get hysterics, some just hate it. I can’t remember any who came.’

 

‘Bit hard on the girls.’

 

‘Yeah. We give them some more money if we have to.’

 

‘What about the others - the experienced ones?’

 

‘They know what’s going to happen. They take it like professionals, but I don’t think they like it.’

 

I was feeling proud. I had genuinely loved it when he hosed me down with his cock. Why? The feeling of utter vulnerability, of complete sluttishness, of sublime mess. The thought that it was me alone that had triggered his mighty emission - quite wrong, of course, he did it every day. I even enjoyed the feeling of the semen cooling and drying on my skin and in my hair. 

 

I rubbed my itchy nose on his chest. ‘Can you do it again?’

 

He shook his head. ‘No, only once a day. I can cum again … but you won’t get much out of me. It’s quite draining, actually. My balls get sore.’

 

So making love with Rock would be a few hours of strenuous fucking concluded by an enormous explosion of spunk, rather than a cycle of erection, orgasm, deflation and re-erection. Oh well, I could get used to it. I sometimes went at it with my dildos for two or three hours non-stop, I knew my body could take it. 

 

He said he had to meet some people later so we showered together. It took me ages to wash all his jism out of my hair. We grew aroused and he held me from behind, his cock pressing against my spine, and masturbated me gently under the sluicing water. I climaxed with abandon in his arms, but he didn’t fuck me again.

 

I asked him if we could meet again tomorrow.

 

‘You want to?’ He seemed surprised.

 

‘Of course I want to! Don’t you want to do it again?’

 

‘I do. It’s just … strange, to find a woman who actually enjoys it.’

 

I kissed him on his sculptured lips. ‘You can cum on me till I drown in it. How’s that?’

 

-----

 

And so we became lovers, united by the strangest bond I have ever known. The next day I prepared myself for anal sex as I wanted him to have me in every possible way. I asked him how many women’s asses he had been inside - it made me aroused to think of this.

 

‘Thousands,’ he said. ‘It’s almost compulsory these days. You don’t get far in films if you won’t do anal.’

 

We did anal, for hours, until my poor orifice was gaping like a railway tunnel. Then I sucked him off, relishing the taste of my scented enema and lube, and made him cum all over my head and body again. This time I knew what it would be like and rolled his spouting cock all across my breasts and face, covering every square inch of flesh with his seed. Again I felt the orgasms rippling unbidden through me.

 

Rock had a very unusual orgasm. Every man I had ever been with pulsed about once a second, an unvarying rhythm which coincided with my own climactic throbs. Rock only spurted every 6 or 7 seconds or so, with an enormous shudder that seemed to cause him actual pain – but he produced more semen with each spurt than other men make in a session.

 

The third day, I wanted him to cum inside me, just to see how much I could take. We ended up doggy fashion, my ass stuck into the air and my neck twisted so I could look back at his balls slapping against my pubes. I felt him start to cum and my cunt was suddenly filled with a warm pressure. The fullness grew and grew and suddenly there was a white trickle falling between my legs onto the bed. I put my hand under it and caught the flood of spunk, then touched my clit, triggering off a wave of orgasm. He kept pumping and the jism squirted out around his cock - I could feel it sluicing across my lips - and ran down my thighs. Still spurting, he withdrew and with practised ease slid his cock into my ass, and proceeded to fill that with spunk too. Without its plug, my cunt released its contents in a big gush, helped by the cock pistoning inside my ass. I could actually feel my bowels gradually filling up with liquid.

 

Eventually he was drained and flopped out of me. I struggled up and sat on the bed so that I could see myself in the mirror again. From my waist to my knees I was covered in his jism. With an ultimate feeling of sluttishness I contracted my muscles and saw more whiteness gush simultaneously out of my cunt and ass, splattering onto the floor. I started to laugh weakly.

 

‘Is that what they call a creampie?’

 

He grinned at me. ‘That’s a double creampie, honey! You’re a star!’

 

‘You think I’d make a porn star?’ I asked, scooping up a palm-full of his thick cream from my cunt and stuffing into my mouth. I was deliberately doing the nastiest things I could imagine.

 

‘Seriously. You could be a cum queen.’

 

‘What’s a cum queen?’

 

‘Everyone’s got to have a speciality in porn. You wouldn’t believe some of the things … A cum queen is a woman who does things with cum. Drinks it, baths in it, leaks it, wears it, does snowballs -‘

 

‘Snowballs?’ The jargon was fascinating.

 

‘You get a mouthful of cum and pass it to another girl, and vice versa. Or dribble it into her mouth. Or lick it out of her cunt or her ass …’

 

‘Wow.’

 

‘But I’d hate to see you on the porn circuit.’

 

‘Why?’

 

He shrugged. ‘You’re … too nice …’

 

I inspected the mess we had made. ‘The maids must love you. Come on, help me shower again. I need another orgasm.’

 

----

 

We made love, in Rock’s special and extremely messy way, every day for the rest of his vacation. Always in his hotel suite - I like to fuck out of doors, and the weather was warm enough, but the after-effects of one of his climaxes would have made walking around somewhat embarrassing, even for me. On the last day I told him I loved him. He held me tight, wiping the spunk from my eyes and mouth and smoothing my sticky, matted hair away from my face.

 

‘Oh, Cindy, that’s not a good thing.’

 

‘It hasn’t been in the past,’ I said, trying to be light-hearted. ‘But I can’t stop it happening. Will you take me back to America with you?’

 

‘You would hate it,’ he said. ‘Oh, not the place or the people. My lifestyle. How would you feel knowing that every day I was fucking different women? And I couldn’t make love to you properly. I can only manage one a day.’

 

I was silent. He was right. I didn’t like the thought of him pumping his seed over thousands of other women - I wanted it over me, every drop, every time. I felt a tear mingle with the drying semen on my cheek.

 

‘Couldn’t you … do something different? Another job?’

 

‘What else can I do? I’ve been in the porn business since I was eighteen. It’s the only thing I know how to do.’

 

‘But you do love me … just a little?’

 

He sighed. ‘If I let myself … yes. But I put up barriers. You have to. D’you understand?’

 

I kissed him and got up to shower. ‘Keep in touch, huh?’

 

------

 

We did keep in touch, to my faint surprise. We e-mailed regularly and phoned each other once a week or so. I always felt a hot wetness at the sound of his voice, and even masturbated sometimes while we were talking - although I didn’t tell him. We discussed his work dispassionately - what shoots he had done, who with. It excited me to hear about his exploits - I could imagine it was me rather than the myriad other women who were receiving his emissions. Our friendship grew closer, if anything.

 

I had some holiday coming and decided on the spur of the moment to fly to Los Angeles. I gave Rock 24 hours notice so he couldn’t refuse. I was quite prepared to stay in a hotel or something, and even to find that he lived with a wife and kids, but I just had to see him and the way he lived and worked and to find out how I really felt about it.

 

And at the back of my mind was the thought that if it was the only way to have sex with him, I would become a porn star. One of the few who enjoyed being hosed down with spunk, and the fewer who didn’t fake their orgasms. I would do facials and creampies and snowballs and whatever else was needed to monopolise his eruptions. I would become a cum queen. 

  Cone

© Copyright britslut 2005. No re-use allowed without permission.

 

I had gone round to see my friend down the road. She’s 13, same age as me, we’re in the same class and share many of the same interests. We’re even the same size and swap clothes a lot! Suzy lives with her mum – her dad left – and I get on well with her mum, who’s ever so pretty. Suzy says she should get a boyfriend and get a life.

Anyway that afternoon – it was during the summer holidays and very hot – I knocked on the kitchen door and opened it and walked in, as I always did. They didn’t mind me using the house like my own. I went up to see if Suzy was in her bedroom but she wasn’t. I heard some strange noises from down the hall – like someone grunting – and being a nosy parker went to see. The noises were coming from Suzy’s mum’s bedroom and the door was wide open so I peeked round. 

Her mum was kneeling on the bed with her back to me. She was completely naked! I had seen her in a bikini before – she had a nice figure and lovely smooth skin – but never totally nude. She had her legs wide apart and there was a big black thing, like a great rounded candle, underneath her. It must have been six inches wide at the base. She was moving up and down slowly, giving a grunt every time she sank down towards the bed. The big black cone was going right up into her pussy! I could see her pussy lips stretching around it. She didn’t seem to have any hair down there, as far as I could tell.

I felt my own pussy tingling at the thought of such a huge object entering it. I could barely get two fingers in mine. But Suzy’s mum looked like she was enjoying it – no-one was making her do it, at any rate! I watched, going hot all over, for a few minutes, and then got scared that she might discover I was watching, so I tiptoed away downstairs.

I wondered whether to discuss it with Suzy, but I thought she might be annoyed that I had been spying on her mum – or might think I was making it up. Anyway, I didn’t know what to say. That night in bed I put a finger of each hand inside my pussy and tried pulling myself apart, but it hurt. Obviously adults were built differently.

The next day I went round in the morning and Suzy was there and so was her mum. She made us a drink and we chatted. I said – without thinking – that I had called round the afternoon before but that Suzy wasn’t in. I saw her mum looking at me with a funny expression, then she gave a little smile to herself. She looked very happy, I thought – maybe whatever she was doing on the bed had made her happier than usual, although I didn’t see how.

Suzy and I played for a while and then I went home for lunch. In the afternoon I went over again to see if Suzy wanted to go into town – although she had said that she was probably going to see her auntie. I had conveniently forgotten that – maybe I wanted to see if Suzy’s mum was doing the same thing again. I didn’t knock at the door but opened it quietly and crept into the house. I felt like a burglar. The downstairs was empty.

I tiptoed upstairs, listening for Suzy’s radio, which she always had on when she was in her room. It was silent, but I could hear a soft moaning noise coming from her mum’s bedroom again! My heart started to knock loudly, but I couldn’t stop myself peeping round the door again.

Oh my god! This time the woman, naked again, was sitting in the chair by the dressing table. Her legs were thrown over the arms of the chair so that her pussy was exposed. It was totally bare, like a little girl’s. But the thing that drew my eyes was a huge black rod that stood on the seat of the chair and disappeared into her pussy! It was shiny and knobbly. Suzy’s mum was rising up and sinking down slowly on the big shaft, which was sliding in and out of her pussy. 

I tore my eyes away and looked at her face. Her eyes were closed and her expression was one of pure bliss, like a cat having its chin tickled. Her mouth was open and she moaned softly ever time she sank down onto the rod. I couldn’t believe how much of it she could fit inside her.

I must have made a sound eventually, because the woman’s eyes sprang open and she saw me. I froze with fear, and she froze too. I wanted to say I was sorry but no words would come out. I wanted the ground to swallow me.

Suzy’s mum gave a sudden wry grin.

‘I wish you hadn’t seen this,’ she said in a low voice. ‘But now that you have, well, it’s too late, isn’t it?’

‘I won’t tell anyone, I promise,’ I stuttered. I was afraid she was going to kill me or something.

‘Oh, I don’t mind,’ she said. ‘I’m not ashamed of it. Suzy knows. Just don’t tell everyone in the street, will you?’

I shook my head, my mind swimming with the idea that Suzy knew all about what her mum got up to in her bedroom.

‘What … what are you doing?’ I asked, boldly.

The woman lifted herself off the black object – it was even longer than I had thought. There was a faint sucking sound as the big rounded end came out of her pussy. She put it aside and sat in the chair, still with a leg over each arm. Her pussy hole was huge and dark. She rubbed it with her hand, shocking me once more.

‘I need to be filled sometimes,’ she said. ‘You’ll understand when you’re older. Maybe you understand now. Suzy does.’

I thought I knew what she meant. Putting a finger or two in my pussy did feel good. I nodded.

‘Thought so. Girls grow up fast these days. Has your mum bought you a vibrator yet? When I was your age we had to make do with candles.’

My head was swimming. I knew – vaguely – what a vibrator was but I had never even seen one in real life. The thought of my own mum getting one for me was ridiculous. I wasn’t quite sure where the candles came into the picture. I shook my head.

Suzy’s mum closed her legs and got up out of the chair. Completely at ease with her nakedness, she rummaged in a drawer.

‘How big are you?’ she asked.

‘I’m 5 foot,’ I said, puzzled.

‘No, silly,’ she laughed. ‘I mean how big is your pussy?’

‘I …. I don’t know.’

‘Well, how many fingers can you get in?’

‘Umm, two. But not very far.’

The woman took out a small blue object, about an inch wide and 6 inches long. It was smooth and had a tapered end. 

‘Here, this one should fit. Try it.’

‘What, here?’ I said, not really understanding her.

‘I meant at home, tonight, in bed,’ she chuckled, ‘but you can try it now if you want. I don’t mind.’

I gulped. Part of me wanted not to end this magical, slightly scary freedom where anything seemed to be possible. But I had a strong feeling that I ought not to be doing it. My eyes locked onto Suzy’s mum’s breasts with their big brown nipples that were sticking out like doorstops. My nipples, puffy and pink as they were, got hard when I was excited and rubbed myself in bed to give myself what I thought might be a sort of orgasm. It was weird to think that this adult woman was also aroused and didn’t care that I knew it.

‘Why do you shave – down there?’ I asked to change the subject.

Suzy’s mum smiled. ‘Because it feels nice. Nice, as in sexy. Very sexy.’ She stroked her bare pussy softly. ‘You probably don’t have a lot of hair yet. Mine was quite thick and wiry. I have to shave every few days. But it’s worth it.’

The thought of her shaving her pussy was giving me a tingling in my own. I wanted to reach out and touch her bare skin but didn’t dare.

‘I saw you … yesterday,’ I confessed. ‘You were in here, on the bed. You were sitting on something …’

The woman grinned and lifted something out the drawer. It was the big black rounded cone – it looked even bigger in her hands.

‘This? I use this when I’m very very horny.’ She caressed it lovingly.

‘Tell you what. I’ll use this and you can try out the vibe. How about it?’

I could feel my mouth open.

‘I’d take your clothes off – it feels much better when you’re naked. And it’s such a hot day.’

It was true, I was feeling hot, but probably not from the weather. I could feel my nipples hardening and my pussy getting damp. Why not, I thought, and slipped my dress off over my head. Suzy’s mum smiled at the sight of my plain white bra and knickers. She got a little bottle of something out of the drawer and smeared some clear liquid over the surface of the black cone. Trembling, I undid my bra and took it off.

‘You’ve got lovely breasts,’ the woman said. ‘Are they sensitive?’

‘Yes, sometimes,’ I said. ‘They are now.’

Suzy’s mum rubbed the end of the cone between her own breasts and down her stomach to her pussy. It was a very sexy action and it gave me the courage to slip my knickers off. The woman didn’t comment at the sight of my pussy with its thin covering of hair.

‘Sit in the chair,’ she said. ‘Hook your legs over the arms. It feels good when you come like that.’ She put the cone onto bed and squatted over it. I couldn’t believe she was going to sit her pussy on top of it, and watched intently.

‘Twist the base to turn it on,’ she said. ‘Start by running it over your breasts and nipples. Then around your pussy. Don’t go for the clit straight away. Go on.’

She got the tip of the cone positioned between her pussy lips, which were big and fat and parted, and with a groan of satisfaction lowered herself a few inches. I could see her lips sliding apart as the cone penetrated her.

‘Come on, my love. Don’t let me do all the work,’ she said.

I scrambled into the chair and opened my thighs wide and got them over the arms of the chair like she had said. I could feel the cool air on my damp pussy. Suzy’s mum looked at me with hooded eyelids – I could tell that she was focussed mainly on the sensations in her pussy rather than on looking at mine. Unable to tear my own gaze away from her body, I twisted the base of the vibrator and it came to life in my hand, a gentle buzzing. Cautiously I held it against my breast and gave a little shriek as the vibration spread throughout my soft bump. I could feel my nipple getting suddenly much harder. I switched to the other breast and the same thing happened.

It was hard to concentrate on my own body and watch Suzy’s mum at the same time. She was rising and falling on the cone now, massaging her breasts, pinching her nipples. I tried to imagine what it was like to be able to take such a huge object inside you. I could feel my pussy lips swelling and moisture forming in my tunnel. Boldly I ran the end of the vibe over my mound and down the sides of my pussy. It felt wonderful. I stroked it between my lips, coating it with moisture.

The woman was now sitting firmly on the cone, almost its entire volume buried in her. She rocked her hips back and forth and side to side, stirring it around in her. I could see her big fleshy pussy lips stretching and sliding over the surface of the object.

My clitoris was crying out for attention so I touched the end of the vibe to it. Wow! The buzzing felt like it was inside my whole body. It was far sexier than when I rubbed myself. I moved it around slightly to find the best place, which was just above the tip of my clit. I heard my voice moaning with pleasure.

‘That’s it, my love, let yourself go,’ said Suzy’s mum in a breathless, ragged voice. She was bouncing up and down on the cone now, forcing it right into her. ‘Oh god I’m going to come soon!’

With a loud series of grunts and shouts she celebrated her climax. The sight of her body all sweaty and shaking set off my own orgasm, a much bigger one than I had ever had before. My pussy throbbed and spasmed and my thighs tried to slam together but were held apart by the chair arms. I could feel warm liquid trickling out of me. After a minute the buzzing of the vibe was too much for my ultra-sensitive clit and I had to remove it.

Suzy’s mum was bent forward, supporting herself on her arms, her back heaving with exertion.

‘Oh god I got it deeper than ever then,’ she gasped, as if to herself. ‘I’ll be gaping for hours.’

She clambered off the bed and knelt next to me, her naked arm round my shoulders. It felt nice to have her flesh touching mine. My pussy, still spread, felt like something was leaking from it. I worried about making the chair wet.

‘Did you have a good cum, my love?’ she said tenderly.

‘Oh yes, it was amazing,’ I said. ‘I’ve never had one like that.’

‘I bet you feel empty now.’

She had divined my sensations exactly – not surprising, I suppose, after all we were both female.

I nodded. ‘I feel like … like I want to grip on something.’ 

‘Believe me, my love, I know exactly what you mean. All the time. Well, you’ve got the vibe. Shall I do it?’

I was feeling a bit weak from the strong orgasm, so I let her take it from me. She ran its tip up and down my pussy lips, carefully avoiding my clit, and then stroked my wet slit. I felt the hard smooth object pushing into my tight tunnel, waves of vibration spreading out thought my hips and thighs. I wasn’t too tight, though, and could feel it sliding deeper into me. I expected it to stop at a hymen and I was worried about the pain but on the other hand I trusted the woman. It just felt so good to have something filling my tunnel, even apart from the vibration that was sending me back up into heaven. It kept sliding in further than I had ever got anything, and I decided that maybe I didn’t have a hymen after all.

Suzy’s mum started to slide the vibe in and out of me, and then began to twist it around very slightly, pressing it against the walls of my tunnel. She held me tightly around the shoulders with her other arm, and I leaned my head against hers, smelling her perfume mixed with perspiration and a musky scent that was like my own pussy when it was wet.

Time seemed to stop as she worked on my pussy expertly with the vibrator, pushing me up to a level of bliss that I didn’t know was possible. Then she tilted it and started to rub the tip against the front wall of my tunnel, and the pleasure suddenly intensified and I cried out.

‘That’s it, my love,’ she whispered. ‘Come for me now. Come for me …’

I felt her warm breath against my cheek and automatically I twisted my head and my mouth found hers and suddenly we were kissing passionately, our mouths open, our tongues twining and lashing. Then I had to break the kiss and gasp frantically as another orgasm swept over me. Suzy’s mum held the vibe against that special spot deep inside me while I came again and again until I was limp and exhausted.

She eased the vibe out and hugged me while my body kept on trembling and throbbing. Gradually my breathing slowed. I rested my face in the hollow of her neck and closed my eyes.

‘My, my, you’re very orgasmic, aren’t you?’ the woman purred. ‘I can tell how much you enjoyed that.’

Gradually my mind returned to normal and I started to worry a little although it was hard with her soft warm flesh comfortingly pressed against mine.

‘Oh dear, what if Suzy finds out what we’ve done? You won’t tell her, will you?’

Suzy’s mum chuckled. ‘No, I won’t tell her. But I think it’s a bit late now …’

‘Why?’ I said, sitting up and looking at her. She flicked her eyes sideways, and I looked and there was my friend Suzy sitting on the edge of the bed, her legs crossed, grinning at us. She looked like she had been there for some time …