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"Brazzers - Step Moms in control - Ashley Downs Baby Jewel Jordi E-Eileen Sue eats Baby Jewel's pussy"

My first time playing the role of mommy but I had a lot of fun, I hope you all enjoy!…

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

I love when my girlfriend spontaneously decides to seduce or dominate me. Granted there are times when I’m not in the mood for it and it causes problems for she certainly is, but in general, I love it. I love the vulnerability. I encourage her to do whatever she wants to me when I give into her, but I’ve always felt that she’s held back. Part of me is usually grateful, but another kinkier part wishes that she’d go all out. And I do mean all out. I know that she’ll do, or at least try, absolutely anything that I want (with the exception of golden showers or scat), but as I’m sure some folks will agree, there are some things that you don’t want to admit that you want, no matter how open your lover is. You just want them to discover your hidden cravings. Plus, it’s always more exciting that way. Exploration is as fun as getting exactly what you desire. She’s pretty damn good at figuring out what it is that I desire, which is why it was always so frustrating that she didn’t pick up on those secret things that I wanted but couldn’t voice. I wanted to be utterly under her command. I wanted her to violate me, and make me feel helpless. Whenever she tried, she always fell short because she was afraid she’d truly offend or frighten me. I could never quite get myself to tell her how far I wanted her to take the scenario. I tried hinting at it but nothing changed. I was getting impatient, but the wait was certainly worth it once she finally went wild and abused me in the way that I had always wanted her to. I still jerk off to that night and it was a long time ago. I remember I worked that day. It was the holiday season so I was working 10 and 11 hour shifts at my father’s book store. I was exhausted every night, and frankly our sex life was lacking for I was too tired to perform. I just couldn’t get hot enough to get into any kind of mood for physical activity with her. On this particular day, she came over in the morning before work, for breakfast. As we were kissing goodbye in the driveway, she reminded me that I promised I’d go to her house after work, regardless of how much I’d rather go home to pass out. She was rubbing up against me and smiling as she spoke, which meant that she was turned on. I sighed and thought about how she’d probably want to fuck later, since we hadn’t in almost a week, and how I would probably be too tired. I kissed her again, thinking she was done talking, but she pulled away to continue. She ran her hand down to my crotch and said softly, “And baby, make sure that you’re horny tonight, because I have plans for you.” With a weak “I’ll do my best, honey” smile, I got into my car and drove away. On my break, I thought about what she said. She had plans for me? I wondered what that meant. I was pretty confident assuming that she meant she was going to screw me for as long as I could take it, but it seemed that there was something else. If just having sex was the whole plan, she just would’ve told me straight out. She left it so vague that it insinuated there was more coming. I tried to think about it a little more, to build some interest, anticipation, and sexual drive. I spent a few minutes in the Sexuality section of the store, flipping through the ever popular sex guides for inspiration. There were a few pictures in several of the books that were sure-fire ways to turn me on. I saved those until I was leaving, and hoped that I could maintain my semi erection on the ride over to her house as well as stay awake. I was thankful that I wasn’t as beat as I usually was but I was still extremely tired. When I arrived, there was a small note on the door telling me that it was open and to go upstairs to her room. I took the paper and followed the instructions. I was surprised to find another note on her bedroom door. This one read, “I hope you’re horny.” Despite my tiredness, I felt a brief stir in my groin as my semi returned (“Thank God,” I had thought). I knocked lightly and opened the door. The room was dim and lit only by the few candles which were scattered about. She was sitting on her overstuffed reading chair, looking down at a book. She did not look up when I entered. When I saw her, I knew I wasn’t as tired as I thought I was in the car. My soft penis stiffened immediately. She was dressed up. I loved when she dressed up for me and she knew it. I hadn’t anticipated what I saw: my petite brunette girlfriend sitting with her legs pressed together, wearing my favorite pair of CFM shoes, black stockings (which I knew were thigh-highs for they turned me on the most), a short black slip, and hopefully thong or G string underwear. Her hair was piled on her head, making her look sexy and sophisticated. I had to adjust myself.bdsm porn storiesWhen she heard the rustling of my hand in my pocket she leisurely closed her book and looked up. I glanced at the title. _Exit to Eden_. I swallowed hard. I had never read the book, but I knew what it was about. Suddenly, I had an inkling of an idea of what her plans were and I was hoping I was right. She looked me over and smiled. I waited for her to ask how my day went, but instead she pretty much told me that she didn’t care. “I’d love to hear about your day darling, but I have others things on my mind. So why don’t you take off your clothes and maybe I’ll consider telling you about them.” I stripped and took a step towards her. She put her hand up to stop me. “Jason my love, listen to me. You have exactly 5 minutes to shower. Don’t wet your hair. Just wash everything, and I do mean everything, that you have between your legs. Go.” “Why don’t you join me?” I asked. She shot me a stern look that indicated that she was giving me orders, not accepting suggestions. I said nothing more and just turned and walked to the bathroom connected to her room. I opened the door and heard the shower running already. I glanced over my shoulder only to see that she had picked up her book again. She had turned it on for me before I arrived, I guessed. The thought that tonight had been so premeditated by her encouraged my libido even more. If she thought of the small detail of turning on the shower for me before I even knew I would be taking one, then who knew what else she had thought of. I considered that more as I soaped my dick and my ass and was rewarded with the biggest hard-on I had had in weeks. When I finished and reentered the room, she was still reading. I wished she’d put down the damn book and pay attention to me. This time she didn’t wait to look at me. She immediately tossed her book aside and stood. She fingered for me to approach her. In seconds we were embracing tightly and kissing. I put my hands under her slip to confirm my fears: she was wearing my favorite pair of sheer G-string panties. I sighed deeply and ran my hands up her back and gave her a quick squeeze. She pressed her body against mine, suffocating my swollen cock in silk. I tried to move my hips back and forth to rub the soft fabric against me, but she stepped back too quickly. “Get onto the bed,” she said. I complied and crawled to the far side of the four-post bed to give her room to follow me. But she didn’t. “Lie down baby, spread eagle.” I did as I was told. A thought flashed through my mind: she was going to tie me up. I hoped so. “You don’t seem all that tired today. I was hoping you’d be awake. This will be a good night for you if you’re alert enough and do as you’re told,” she said as she slowly walked around the bed. “I’m-“ “Shhhhh. . . . . . no talking. The only time you can speak is when I ask you a question. Otherwise, the only sounds that are allowed out of your pretty little mouth are moans. I do not want to hear protests of anything kind. If you have a problem, too bad. This night is for me, not you.” My dick stiffened and a few drops of precum oozed out. She certainly had my attention, and I didn’t anticipate falling asleep any time soon. She had stopped at the bottom of the bed on the floor, between my legs, and slowly climbed up from there. Her hands and mouth went straight to my balls. She licked and sucked on them lightly, which drove me mad. I liked it when she was rough with them and it was almost unbearable when she was so gentle. I placed my hands on the back of her head, but she shook them off and told me not to touch her again or else I’d be made immobile. It was tempting to grab her again so she’d follow through with that threat, but I decided to play along until I couldn’t take it any longer. I returned to concentrating on the activity below my waist. She licked her way up my shaft and slowly pulled the head of my penis into her mouth. One of her hands was still touching the soft skin of my scrotum while the other rested on my right thigh to maintain balance. Then, unexpectedly, her demeanor changed. Her grip on my sac tightened in a flash, and at the same instant she took my entire length into her mouth. She deep throated me as she yanked and squeezed my balls. Her sudden change in method took me by surprise and I caught myself reaching to replace my hands on her head. I stopped myself for I didn’t want to give up my freedom just yet. She went down on me for a few minutes more before sitting up. I anticipated her next move, and made a mental bet that it would be into the 69 position. I was half-right. “You’ve been very good so far. I’m surprised that you were able to keep your hands off of me. But even though you were so well behaved, I’m going to tie you down.” My heart beat loudly in my chest. When she tied me up, that was one thing, but tying me down was something else! I had more freedom when I was tied up; only my arms were bound to the bedposts. Tying me down meant she was going to restrain my arms and my legs. She had only done that once before, and I had never told her how much I enjoyed being so out of control. I had the sudden urge to kiss her before she took over completely, and quickly sat up and pulled her towards me. We kissed hard and passionately for a brief moment before she leaned back and pushed me onto my back again. She turned around to anchor my ankles to the bed first. I moaned loudly as she crawled on all fours to the left lower corner of the bed. It turned me on immensely to see her pussy and asshole so plainly. I loved 69ing because I could stare up between her legs and have both inches from my face. Just thinking about her over me like that made me salivate. I altered my prediction slightly by adding in the fact that I’d be tied down as she sucked my cock and I ate her pussy. I turned out to be correct with that one.fetish porn storyAfter strapping me down completely, she faced the foot of the bed and straddled my face. I opened my mouth to accept her warmth and wetness, but I was mercilessly denied both. She held her pussy out of my reach as she began going down on me again. It was pure torture and I loved it! I strained to get to her put couldn’t. Through my frustration I almost didn’t hear her speak. She must have guessed that for she repeated herself louder. “If you want it on your face, beg me for it.” I said nothing for a moment. She had never made a request like that before. It made me hard as hell but I wasn’t sure how serious she was. Deep down I really wanted her to make me beg, not just ask me to. So I ignored her and tried again to get mouth on her wet cunt. She dipped her hips and grazed my lips with her lower pair, leaving the taste and smell for me to make me suffer. By the time I realized she had moved, she had returned to her original position. It was agony having and losing her in the same second. I couldn’t stand it any more. “Please?” I said. “You’re going to have to try harder than that!” she laughed as she began licking my shaft again. I sighed deeply, wanting her more than I could ever recall. “Please Dana, give it to me.” She responded by tonguing her way to my balls, and then stopping. “More,” she said, “I’m not convinced that you really want it.” I groaned and tried to thrust my hips forward to get my now painful erection back into her mouth. She roughly batted me away. The small amount of pain it provided me made me lose it. “Dana I need your pussy on my face. I want to bury my tongue inside you. I need it. You-” she cut me off my dropping herself down to grant my requests. I licked up the center and plunged my tongue into her. She began furiously sucking me cock. It was too much for me. It was all too good. I arched my back and let out a loud, muffled bellow as I came. She swallowed it all and kept pumping me as my orgasm subsided. I stopped eating her out. I rested my head on the bed and panted and emitted little noises as she slowed her pace. “You’re not done,” she said, “I haven’t cum yet.” To Be Continued… Please send any comments/thoughts

Another year, another Wimbledon, another semi-final … another match point. Tina had heard it said that history repeats itself, but this was surely pushing it. How could she have been so stupid…? She knew exactly how, of course. Ever since that fateful day this time last year, women’s tennis had changed beyond recognition. The photos in the next day’s papers had won her immediate condemnation from a bunch of people she did not care about, while also earning immediate super-celebrity status as one of the world’s leading sex symbols. The fact that she had ended up losing the match made no difference at all. The job offers came rolling in, though she politely declined all requests that she pose nude for men’s magazines, and her bank balance grew and grew…This fact was not lost on her fellow tennis starlets. At last year’s US Open, a succession of tiny microskirts made their way out on to the courts, and soon Tina found herself facing stiff competition. One girl, in particular, seemed to have hardly any inhibitions at all – her name was Laura Lessing and she had won the hearts and loins of millions of male admirers across the globe. She had first made news by wearing bright red French-cut panties under her short skirt, and though she received reprimands from numerous umpires she continued to wear similar underwear in tournament after tournament. Her skirts were generally not excessively minuscule, but they were made of such a light material that they flew up around her waist at the slightest breeze, and she was not quick to cover her modesty. She obviously adored the limelight.As did Tina, who found herself driven to further exhibitionistic acts on the court just so she could keep herself in the media spotlight. In the French Open, she had worn a skirt that only barely covered her buttocks, with lacy panties beneath. The skirt was made of a stiff material that would neither fly up nor ride up, but whenever she bent over she knew she was showing her panties to the crowds and the cameras.Her fan sites doubled in number, then trebled. Fan mail poured in, as did the contracts, and she carefully ignored the vicious backlash from conservative groups. The people she had intended to thrill were thrilled.For this year’s Wimbledon, she had prepared well. The stretchy skirt idea had been a good one, but it had been flawed. Now, however, she had ironed out the problems. A skirt had been designed and made for her specially – one that would ride up as she moved, but not too quickly. Unlike her night-club skirt of the previous year, this one would not end up around her waist. Indeed, even after the longest, most vigorous points, it would uncover no more than a centimetre of the lower curves of her buttocks. Thus she could be sexy, but safe in the knowledge that she was in control.The dress code for this Wimbledon had been re-written. With new money pouring into the game, big name sponsors had put pressure on the rules committee to allow the female players a little flexibility. In short, the players could wear skirts of any length as long as they covered the buttocks while the player was at rest and standing straight, and the underwear rules had been relaxed to permit any kind of underwear except thongs and g-strings. There had been fierce opposition to these changes, and a few resignations had occurred. But the changes had stuck.So, on the first day of the Wimbledon fortnight, Tina had strode on to the court wearing a semi-stretchy white miniskirt that covered her buttocks with almost an inch to spare, with a pair of pale blue French-cut panties underneath. The outfit had gone down a storm. Every day for the last week and a half, she had graced several pages of each and every tabloid in the country. She practically received a standing ovation every time she walked out on to the court.And today she faced Laura Lessing. Laura had received a similarly rapturous welcome on her first day, as she appeared on court wearing not only her trademark ‘flying’ skirt, but also a tight tank top through which the outline of her bra was clearly visible. The tabloids contained nearly as many photos of Laura as they did of Tina. In fact, over the last couple of days Tina had been incensed to discover herself almost marginalised by full-page spreads of Laura’s latest gimmick – a pair of French-cut panties that had been judiciously altered to turn them almost, but not quite, into a thong. And the committee did not object! This angered Tina. Laura was flouting the new rules and getting away with it!So last night, Tina had decided she was not going to be outdone in her own match. She had summoned her tailor (she never went anywhere without him these days), and given him the job of ‘editing’ her own panties. She showed him the picture of Laura’s bottom adorning the front page of The Quasar. “I want you to make mine even skimpier than that,” she said, “while still not being a thong.”Gerard’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. “That … will be tricky,” he remarked. “But I’ll give it a try.”And so he had. The following morning, Tina was impressed with the result.“That will surely slip between my buttocks,” she observed critically.“It will, after a short while,” agreed Gerard. “But it’s not a thong – not quite. And I’m sure you’ll get a kick out of pulling it out of your arse every few points in front of the cameras.”Tina considered this, and a smile came to her lips. “Yes…” she said.“That will be fun.”But Martin, her manager, was outraged when he saw the garment. “You cannot wear that!” he exclaimed. “It’s hardly any bigger than the thong you wore last year! And just remember – you almost got banned from Wimbledon on account of that little stunt.”“It wasn’t a stunt!” objected Tina. “But that’s academic anyway. They’ve relaxed the rules since then, as well you know.”“But there are still rules,” Martin insisted. “And one of them is that thongs aren’t allowed.”“This isn’t a thong,” said Tina.“It virtually is. And when it’s bunched up between your butt cheeks, who’s going to know the difference?”“Who indeed?” Tina smiled wryly. “But I can easily prove to them that it isn’t.”Martin frowned, then turned on his heel and walked away.“He’ll get over it,” Gerard told her. “Now, about this top…”“Oh yes! Do you have it?”“It’s in your bag,” said the tailor. “Check it out – I think you’ll like it.”Tina hurried through to her room and placed the almost-thong on her bed next to her equipment bag. Opening the bag, she smiled as she spotted a white cut-off t-shirt folded neatly on the top. She smiled to herself.This was her latest gambit – exposure of the midriff. She pulled it out and held it up, giggling naughtily. Then she pulled out the miniskirt and sighed happily as she imagined the whole combination. This was going to be a good day. Finally she went through the rest of the equipment in the bag, making sure it was all present. She was not going to make the same mistake she had made this time last year!Placing her racquets in the bag first, she re-packed everything, leaving her clothing until last. She hesitated for a moment, then resisted the temptation to try the clothes on before packing them, too. She laid the panties and the skirt side by side on top of her track suit, then placed the t-shirt on top.“Tina?”She turned around at the sound of her manager’s voice. “Yes Martin?”“Waldo’s here – he wants to talk to you about tonight’s do.”Tina frowned. “Couldn’t he have phoned?”“He was in the hotel,” explained Martin. “Thought he’d ‘just drop by’ or something.”“Okay, I’m coming.” Tina stood up and went out to meet her agent.Waldo was a tall man with a thick crop of wild grey hair that always looked as if he’d been out in a strong wind. He had a habit of finishing every other sentence with “don’t you know” and his eyebrows bobbed up and down as he talked. Tina found him rather intimidating, but he was the best agent she’d had.“Ahem, well Tina, good morning and how do you do,” he pronounced sternly.“I’ve been chewing the old fat with the blokes at the press office and they happened to bring up the subject of interviews, don’t you know. So I thought to myself, as I am wont to do, ‘now here if I am not greatly mistaken is an opportunity old boy’ and …”Tina only half-listened, fascinated by his eyebrows, as Waldo trundled on through a terribly one-sided conversation at the end of which he paused, awaiting her response. She shook herself. “Ah, whatever you think is best, Waldo,” she said. “I trust your judgment.”“Most gratifying I am sure, well I’ll be tootling off now if you’ll pardon my flying visit – oh and I have another advertising contract I need to discuss with you, but it can wait until tonight, what? Or even tomorrow don’t you know. Toodle-pip.” And with that he swept out of the room.“We should be leaving,” said Martin, coming back into the room. “Are you ready?”“Sure,” said Tina. “Let me grab my bag.”She walked back into her bedroom and reached down to zip up her bag. Then she stopped. Something was not quite right. Her eyes narrowing, she slid her hand down the side of the bag and pulled out a white object that she had just glimpsed the corner of. It was a pair of conservative white panties.Annoyed, she flung them on to the floor. “Thought you’d try to convince me of the error of my ways, did you Martin?” she muttered.She said nothing to Martin as they left the hotel, and only in the car did she finally break her silence. “Honestly Martin,” she reprimanded him.“Sometimes you act just like my mother.”“Huh?” Martin looked puzzled.“The panties?”“Oh.” Martin flushed and responded defensively, “Well I’m sorry, but there are limits, you know.”“Just forget it,” said Tina.In the Centre Court changing rooms she met up with her arch-rival, and today’s opponent, Laura Lessing. “Hi,” said Tina rather coldly.“Hi Tina!” Laura gushed. “Wow, I’m so happy to be playing against you at last! You are my absolute hero, you know.”Tina was utterly disarmed, and found herself rather flustered. “Well, I…” she began. “Thank you! That’s nice of you to say so.”“I think it’s great what you’ve done for women’s tennis,” continued Laura.“You’ve possibly seen my, um … tributes … to your groundbreaking stunt last year…”“It wasn’t…” Tina began, before changing her mind. “Well, I guess I always figured you were trying to outdo me,” she said. “You must admit you’ve become rather popular yourself…”“I know!” Laura’s eyes were like saucers, as if she could barely comprehend the idea. “Isn’t it amazing? I mean, I’m nowhere near as pretty as you – I’m just overwhelmed at the attention I’ve got.”Tina chuckled. “Have you ever thought of, you know, toning it down a little?”Laura looked surprised. “Why, no,” she said. “Have you?” But she did not wait for a response before continuing in a conspiratorial whisper, “I just love to go a little further each time, you see. I know sooner or later I’ll get into trouble, but isn’t it amazing what they’ll let you get away with this year?”“Yes, it is,” agreed Tina. She sighed and began to undress. “Guess we’d better get into our skimpy outfits then.”Laura giggled. “Ooh yes,” she said.Tina pulled her t-shirt and skirt out of her bag, then stared into her bag in horror. Her heart plummeted into her shoes. “Oh my God!” she exclaimed.“What is it?” asked Laura in alarm.“My panties! They’re not here!”“What? Are you sure?”Tina suddenly realised with a shock that Martin had not only placed a conservative pair of panties in her bag, he had removed the other pair at the same time! “I don’t believe it!” she said. “My manager’s taken them out!”“Can’t you wear what you’re wearing now?” inquired Laura. “As I understand it, that’s what you did last year.”“I’m not wearing underwear,” hissed Tina sharply.“Ah,” said Laura. “Oops.”“Hey, are you wearing panties?” asked Tina on a sudden thought.“Yes but…”“Great! Can I wear them?”“No! I’m wearing the ones I’ll be wearing on the court!”“Oh.” Tina was crestfallen. “Good grief, what a fix.”“What skirt have you got?” inquired Laura.Tina showed her.Laura nodded. “Ah yes, I know that one. It doesn’t ride up much, does it?”“Not much,” conceded Tina. “But enough, probably.”“Maybe not, if you’re careful. And won’t it be awesome? Think of it – the first woman to play tennis at a Grand Slam tournament without panties!” Tina groaned. “I suppose it’s possible I might get away with it,” she said. “But I’ll be giving you the advantage.”Laura waved her hand dismissively. “Nonsense,” she said airily. “You’re the better player – you’ll have no problems.”Tina stared at Laura, perplexed. “What kind of pep-talk do you give yourself?” she inquired. “Are you expecting to lose?”“I don’t mind.” Laura shrugged. “I’m just out to play my best and have a good time. I don’t have any illusions.”Tina shook her head in great puzzlement, then sighed as she considered her position. Eventually she decided to bite the bullet, and changed into her miniskirt, sports bra and cut-off t-shirt. The latter item caught her by surprise – it was far tighter than she had imagined.Laura whistled. “Wow, sexy!” Tina chuckled. The top really was tight – it clung to every curve of her breasts and the bra beneath made highly visible ridges in its fabric. She decided she rather liked the effect.But then she noticed what Laura was wearing. She gasped. “Oh my goodness!” Laura had really pulled out all the stops, knowing she was up against the woman who had started the whole revolution in women’s tennis wear. Her light skirt had been drastically reduced in length – it barely covered her buttocks – and she was wearing a tight lycra crop-top that made Tina’s t-shirt seem almost conservative. “How do I look?” she asked.“You look … naked!” exclaimed Tina.Laura giggled. “Why thank you!” she said.The two girls donned their track suits and walked out to meet the crowd, to whistles and cheers and great applause. They lapped it up. Then Martin arrived.“Where have you been?” Tina hissed.“Getting a drink,” he said. “What’s up?”“What’s up??” Tina fought to control her anger. “Martin you idiot, I didn’t realise you’d taken my panties out of my bag!”“Huh?”“Those ones you put in there – I threw them away! Now I have nothing!” Martin gasped in shock. “Oh … my … God,” he managed at last.“Tell me about it. Now do you think you can go and get me some?”“Well, I’ll try,” he said, “but you know what the traffic’s like. Remember the last time?”“You don’t need to go all the way back to the hotel,” she told him. “Just find a clothes shop.”Martin nodded. “Okay,” he said, and hurried off.The sky was overcast as the two girls took off their track suits to rapturous applause. Cameras snapped in their hundreds. Tina had stomach butterflies as she began her warm up with a few serves from the right-hand side of the court. But her skirt stayed put (pretty much), and she made sure its hem stayed well below her buttocks. The breeze on her naked pussy made her feel terribly uneasy, but she forced herself not to think about it, and tried to concentrate on serving well.Meanwhile, Laura was getting all the attention. She was leaping high in every serve, her skirt flying up to reveal a pair of white silk panties that were almost as small as the ones Tina had been planning to wear. And they looked as if they were several sizes too small. Already the material at the back was creeping between her buttocks, and she made no attempt to rectify the situation. And she took her time about bending over (with straight legs) to pick up balls from the grass.Tina was a little relieved not to have all the cameras scrutinising her, but also rather annoyed that the crowd was watching Laura and not her.Nevertheless, she did not dare to let her skirt ride any higher than it was doing already, so she forced herself to ignore her opponent’s exhibitionistic antics and the crowd’s response.The match began. As expected, Tina’s skirt did not ride up much, and she began to relax a little. She was careful not to allow any point to go on for too long (sometimes this meant giving Laura the occasional point, but she could afford them), and gradually she began to feel that she was, after all, in control. After four games, the score was 3:1, and Tina was about to serve in the fifth when it began to rain.It was just a light drizzle, but after only a couple of points the grass was beginning to get slippery, and after a meaningful glance from Tina, the umpire ordered the covers to be brought out. Tina was relieved – it would buy her some time before Martin got back.But the covers were not on for long. Five minutes later the rain had ceased, and the players were cleared to resume the game. This they did, but this time Laura had the advantage. The damp grass caused them both to slip on several occasions, but whereas Laura took this in her stride, relishing the opportunity to flash her panties yet again, Tina could not afford to let her skirt ride up at all. So she played it safe, taking only small steps, while Laura capitalised on the opportunity to break serve for the first time.The drizzle began again in the next game, but stopped after only a couple of minutes. Tina was by now getting rather frustrated. She lost to Laura’s serve, then lost her own serve after that. Things were not going well. On the positive side, the rain was causing her t-shirt to cling even tighter to her chest, and the material was even easier to see through now that it was damp.Laura could not help but notice this as she came all the way up to the net to slam home a winning cross-court volley. She realised that her own crop top was not the type of garment to turn transparent in the rain, and she wished she had thought to wear a thin t-shirt like Tina’s. But perhaps there was something else she could do…At the beginning of the ninth game, with the score at 5:3 (to Laura), Tina bounced a ball in front of her, glancing occasionally at her opponent. She watched as Laura hopped from one foot to the other, bouncing on the spot, and then frowned. Laura seemed a little more … bouncy? than usual.And then she realised the startling truth: that her opponent had taken off her bra! Laura’s crop top was now bouncing under the influence of a pair of decidedly unfettered breasts (and Laura’s chest was fairly large for a tennis player).“Two can play at that game,” thought Tina to herself, and she clenched her teeth in a new resolve.Determined to pull herself back into the match, Tina began to take a few more risks. She managed to win her serve, but then had a nasty fright in Laura’s service game. While running at full-stretch to intercept an attempted pass, she slipped and abruptly did the splits (almost) on the damp grass. She squealed in horror and immediately closed her legs, pulling her skirt down to cover her neatly-trimmed pubic hair.There were one or two puzzled stares from the crowd, but the glimpse had been too brief for them to be sure about what they had seen. Tina could almost hear their comments: “Did you just see what I saw? Well, I’m not sure… it looked like she’s not wearing panties… Of course, I could be wrong…”She got to her feet, somewhat rattled, and returned to the baseline. The next couple of points went badly, and soon she found herself facing the wrong end of a set point. Biting her lip in anxiety, she was almost wrong-footed as the ball came hurtling down the court to her right-hand side. She launched herself towards it.Her foot slipped, and shot backwards. She sank to the floor as the ball whipped past her unmet. Her skirt had ridden up again and she hastily pulled it down as she got to her feet. Again, the whispers…“Game and first set to Miss Lessing,” announced the umpire.Tina sighed unhappily and prepared to serve. The lack of a bra certainly had not severely handicapped her opponent’s game. In fact, she seemed to have acquired a new confidence and was making very few errors. Still, her serve was not strong and could be beaten.By serving well, and taking some judicious risks, Tina succeeded in winning her service game. Smiling to herself as she sat down, she decided to up the stakes in the battle for the press’s attention. As surreptitiously as she could, she unclasped her bra and slipped it off, pulling it out through the left arm-hole of her t-shirt and dropping it into her bag. Immediately the damp t-shirt clung to her bare breasts, and with an involuntary shiver she realised she could just make out her nipples through the thin material. She was sure that the press cameras would also be able to see them.Without bra or panties, she walked out on to the court in just a cut-off t-shirt and a microskirt. Feeling naked and vulnerable but also rather aroused, she winked at Laura before her opponent served. The sensation of playing with no restraints on her breasts, however, was too unfamiliar and her return went wide. Laura’s next serve she pounded back into the net.Cursing to herself, she prepared to try again. She was annoyed with herself for having so much difficulty playing without a bra, when Laura seemed to be managing just fine.‘She probably practices without a bra all the time,’ she thought to herself suddenly. ‘Oh heck, what have I let myself in for?’ She lost that game, and then her own service game. Now 2:1 down, she watched as Laura prepared to serve once again. Her nineteen-year-old opponent’s crop top seemed a little skimpier somehow, and Tina frowned.What had the dratted girl done now? A brief rendezvous at the net in the next point answered her question.Laura had folded over part of her top, so that not only was it now more revealing, but it was also serving to keep her breasts in place more effectively. This was a clever plan, but it was risky – too much bouncing and Laura’s breasts would pop out from underneath the crop top. No doubt that added to the girl’s thrill.The drizzle began again, but not before Tina had broken serve, and then held on to her own serve, to bring the score to 3:2. As the two girls sat down in their respective places, the umpire leaned over to speak to Tina.“Miss Hathaway?” he said.Tina looked up guiltily. She folded her arms across her chest, convinced he was going to reprimand her for removing her bra. But she was mistaken.“How’s the court?” he asked. “I’m considering abandoning play, but it’s up to you two. Miss Lessing is happy to continue, so it’s your decision.”Tina thought for a moment. Martin was not back yet, but he surely would be soon. And she was beginning to play better now. Finally she was back in the lead, and she was becoming confident she could stay ahead until the end of this set. Furthermore, she was enjoying the way the drizzle was making her t-shirt more see-through every minute. “I’m okay for the moment,” she said. “It’s not that bad out there.”“Very well,” said the umpire, nodding.Tina took a swig from her water bottle, then got up and returned to the court.Two lost games later, she was regretting her decision. The drizzle had stopped, but the ground was still rather wet and slippery. She no longer felt she had an excuse for requesting that play be abandoned, and her t-shirt was not getting any more transparent. Facing what could possibly be her penultimate game of this tournament, she decided to go all out in her efforts to win the publicity battle. If she could not win the match, at least she could still steal the next day’s headlines from that upstart Laura.Carefully and deliberately, she poured the remaining contents of her water bottle over her chest, making sure she covered both breasts equally. The material quickly turned almost completely transparent, and despite herself she gasped at the sight of her breasts staring back at her. The wet t-shirt clung tightly to every contour and concealed nothing.Holding her head high (while trying not to meet anyone’s gaze), she marched out on to the court once again. Laura did the same, but then her jaw dropped as she saw Tina’s transformation. Tina saw her giggle and then hold up a thumb in admiring support.“Miss Hathaway…” came the umpire’s voice over the loudspeaker.Tina trotted over to speak to him.The umpire leaned over and said, “Enough is enough, Miss Hathaway. This is not a wet t-shirt contest, it is a tennis match. The new rules regarding the dress code are there to encourage freedom of expression, not indecent behaviour. Do you have another shirt?”“I’m afraid not,” confessed Tina.The umpire sighed. “And where is your bra?”“It broke,” Tina lied.“All right, but one more lewd act on your part and I will disqualify you and ban you from the tournament. The whole tone of this event has dropped through the floor, and I’m damned if I’m going to take it any more.”Tina nodded. “I understand.” Rather subdued, she returned to the court.The game went badly. Tina found her t-shirt highly distracting, and with every bounce it rode higher and higher and threatened to expose her breasts to the world. Soon it was revealing as much flesh as Laura’s crop top.Nevertheless, she liked the effect and did not attempt to replace it, until she heard a warning cough from the umpire. She hastily pulled it down.She lost that game, and prepared to serve to stay in the match. She served well, but a good return surprised her and she failed to clear the net with her follow-up shot. Then she noticed that her vigorous serve had resulted in her t-shirt being hoisted up high on her chest. Only a half-inch of material extended below the lower curve of her breasts. Rather reluctantly, she pulled the t-shirt down.The next few serves had similar effects, but a longer point almost resulted in her breasts popping free of the t-shirt entirely. She won two points, but also lost two.So now she was at match point, again, and this time her predicament was even worse. What could she do? If she preserved her modesty and lost, was that any better than going all out and perhaps being banned from the rest of the tournament? Probably not.She served, and at once felt her t-shirt climb up again. But she ignored it and concentrated on trying to predict where Laura’s return would end up.It was short – that was good. Tina raced forward and whipped the ball over to the far corner. But Laura, realising the danger, was already almost there. She hammered it back down the line, and Tina had to lunge to reach it. She made it, just, and the ball bounced high off her racquet – a mis-hit.Laura was quick to take advantage, her chest bouncing as she ran around the back of the ball. She attempted to fire it down the right-hand line, but Tina caught it at the net with a drop volley. However, it bounced harder off her racquet than she had intended, leaving Laura with an easy opportunity for a lob. Tina raced backwards, only to find to her horror that Laura was not going for the lob at all. She was responding with a drop shot of her own.Tina sprinted forwards, just reaching the ball in time. But as she dug her feet in to brake herself, they slid on the wet grass, shooting right under the net. Tina yelped as she fell to the ground and slid forwards on her back. Her skirt, caught by the net as she passed beneath it, was yanked up to her waist. Her t-shirt was pulled up by sheer friction, both on the ground and on the bottom of the net, until it was wrapped around her neck.At this point Tina came to an abrupt halt, with her head on one side of the net and her rather unclothed body on the other.The crowd fell into a stunned silence, then erupted in a cacophony of wolf-whistles, cheers and thunderous applause. The umpire’s announcement of “Game, set and match to Miss Lessing” went completely unheard. Laura, meanwhile, walked over to where Tina was lying with her pussy and breasts fully exposed to the crowd and to the world’s photographers. She looked down at Tina and smiled.“You win,” she said.THE END

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

For as far back as I can remember, I had a crush on my cousin. When I was about eighteen…

We’d been on the road for seven hours, and though we’d hoped to make it all the way home from our trip in one day, it was becoming clear that we’d need a place to stay for the night. It was no big deal. It was summertime and we’re both teachers. We had some time to play with. At about 9pm we found a nice hotel right next door to a steakhouse we know and like.Perfect.We got our stuff up into our room and quickly headed off to the steakhouse. We got a table right away and split an entire pitcher of margaritas as we ate. Both Cathy and I were more than a bit tipsy as we left the restaurant. I told her that we should head over to the bar across the street for a few more. She knew I was trying to get her inhibitions down (which isn’t that hard to do!) and she played along. It was a sparsely populated bar, which was to be expected after 11pm on a Tuesday night. We ordered drinks and sat at the long bar rather than getting a table. There were two men a few seats down from us, and they were both large, athletic looking and black. They asked us if they could buy us a round. We said sure and began to chat with them.Cathy had a nice tan from our vacation, and we were out of town, so she was showing it off with very short shorts that left some of her ass cheeks visible, and a top that failed to cover her soft sexy tummy. She looked hot and ready if not flat-out slutty. The two men, Robert and Tre were obviously turned on by her, and as I looked around, I realized she was the only woman in the bar. As we sipped our second drinks, we were now well into a drunken state and our new friends knew it.Tre went to the jukebox and pumped it full on money. Some dance music began to blare. He came back and asked if Cathy wanted to dance without even looking at me.She said yes reflexively and, in a flash, they were dancing out on the tiny dance floor…with the whole bar watching them. Tre moved quickly…he was getting obvious feels of Cathy’s ass he moved her around the dance floor. Then, getting no resistance from my wife, he moved in behind her and began to grind into her ass-making sure she could feel his hard manhood pressing into her.Robert told me…as we watched, that my wife was hot and that she looked like a total slut. Then he jumped in for the next song. Tre came over and told me the same thing-saying that Cathy’s tight ass was made for taking big black dick.I was barely able to speak as all this unfolded.Robert and Tre took turns for a few songs-both feeling up my wife on the dance floor without any pretense whatsoever. They kept getting more and more bold and my wife did nothing to slow them down. Then, they both danced with her together-Robert now behind her grinding his hard cock into her ass, and Tre playing with her tits through her blouse as he began to kiss her. Cathy’s mouth opened and she began to passionately tongue kiss Tre. My cock was now fully hard as I watched my wife being m*****ed.The song ended and they slowly stopped the faux sex scene and walked back to bar with the whole joint watching them…jaws dropped.Tre was blunt when they got to the bar. “Mike, we’re coming back to the hotel with you and we’re both going to fuck Cathy in all her holes while you watch. The slut wants bad it and she told us so. You understand?”“Yes” was all I could say.sex with sisTre and Robert each took one of Cathy’s hands and led her away. I followed about twenty feet behind and watched two men pawing at my drunk wife as they crossed the street to the hotel. They were taking her right in front of me…and I wasn’t even trying to stop it. In fact, I still had a raging hard-on in anticipation of what was about to happen.We walked through the lobby with me trailing and with them both aggtessively groping Cathy. It was beyond obvious what was going on and I was totally humiliated, yet turned on like crazy at the same time. I was even more humiliated when the man at the front desk gave me a look and shook his head in disbelief at my situation.As soon as we got into the elevator, they made Cathy strip naked…which she did with no hesitation. In seconds, she was totally nude leaving her clothes on the floor for me to pick up and carry.“Get on your hands and knees, slut” said Tre.Cathy dropped to the floor. The elevator doors opened and thankfully, nobody was there. Then Tre slapped Cathy’s ass and told her to show us where the room was.“Don’t get up, slut. You crawl down that hall and show us how sexy you can be.”Cathy did as she was told without any complaints.They both took turns spanking my wife’s ass as she crawled on her hands and knees like a dog down the long hallway.I followed.When we got to the door, I was told to open it and then to stay out of the way. They continued to spank Cathy as she crawled into the room.“Cathy, you are a dirty whore, and we are going to treat you that way. You understand, slut?”She nodded…which was apparently not the response he wanted.Tre grabbed her by her hair-pulling her face to his. “Answer me slut!”“yes” said Cathy … meekly.“Yes, what you dirty whore?”“Yes…I know I am going to be treated like a dirty whore.”“You want it don’t you, Cathy? You want to be stuffed and stretched out while your husband watches, don’t you?”“Oh god yes” she said…barely able to contain her excitement.“I want you to fuck me like a slut with your big black cocks right in front of my husband.”“You know he won’t stop us, right, slut? Mike is a going to do what he’s told, just like you. Here, watch this.” said Tre.“Take off your clothes, Mike and get down on the floor.”I did not hesitate. I got naked and got down on my knees.“Good boy. Now, Mikey, if you behave, we’ll let you stay and watch while we turn your innocent girl into a dirty whore. Go sit on that chair over in the corner. You speak only if spoken to.”“Ok, Cathy…you little black cock whore to be. Take out our big dicks and get to work like a good married whore.”“Yes, Sir”They were totally degrading her as she worshipped them…calling her slut and whore in such a nasty condescending tone. It was making me so freaking hard. I was actually getting dizzy…it was that sexually intoxicating.After about ten minutes of pure black cock worship, she was told to stop. Cathy was helped onto the bed and I was told to stay in my chair, which I did.I was able to see what they were doing to my girl on the bed very clearly. Tre was underneath her and I saw Cathy’s back arch sharply as he brought her down onto his huge black shaft. A massive gasp escaped her lips as she was slowly impaled on more cock than I’d ever seen her take. Cathy’s pussy was completely soaked, so, even though she was getting way more cock than she ever had before, Tre’s ten inches were balls deep in just a few strokes.porn stories incestNow Cathy was screaming and wailing as he bounced her up and down on his massive cock like a rag doll-taking her from almost nothing to ten full inches over and over again.He spoke to her… “That’s a good whore, Cathy. Take all of my big black dick, you dirty cunt. Yeah, slut…you’re loving having a real cock ain’t you?” He was laughing as he said it.“Oh my God yes! I love your big black cocks! Use my married pussy!”“Good slut.” Then he spoke to me.“Hey boy, lick your slut wife’s ass while she’s riding my big cock. Get that ass ready for Robert. Get it all wet and slippery ‘cuz my boy’s hung like a fucking mule. Ha ha ha.”I crawled onto the bed and they slowed to a grind. I watched Tre grind his long black cock all the up into Cathy as I closed in on her asshole. I licked her star for a few minutes as she rode Tre-moaning like a total whore-not caring at all about my humiliation.“Ok, now get out of here,” he said to me.Robert got in behind Cathy and lined his huge pole up with her asshole. As he began to force the massive head into her ass without caring, Cathy started saying “oh my god” over and over-getting louder and louder as he got more and more of his big black cock up her lily white ass.I was told to get back in my chair as they began to fuck Cathy deeply in both of her holes. The two men were pushing in and pulling out of her pussy and ass in unison-telling her what a dirty cumslut she was as they forced her towards the biggest orgasm of her young life.“Yeah, that’s it, Cathy… Take all of those long black cocks like a good white whore. Yeah…take every inch you dirty fucking slut.” said Robert as he began to spank Cathy’s ass. “Yeahhh, you lovin’ that aren’t ya?”“Oh god yes! Make me take it all! Own my fucking holes!”He spanked her harder and harder as he pumped his huge cock into her ass. Then, Cathy froze-up and had an orgasm as she screamed in total ecstasy.“Damn, Tre. This slut fucking loves getting DPed and spanked…and with her hubby watching no less.”Then Robert grabbed her head by her hair and pulled her head back to him as he forced his cock deeper into her ass. “Ok, Cathy,” he said. “Now we’re gonna fill your dirty slutty married holes with our seed.”They sped up their strokes with Robert holding onto her hair tightly with his right hand-forcing her back to arch obscenely as she took both cocks repeatedly to the balls.They were really taking my girl hard now. She was telling them that she was their whore and that she was going to cum again. Then she stiffened…and then got really quiet as “stiffened” gave way to violent shaking.Then Cathy let out a huge scream as she came harder than most women will ever cum in their lives.As she did, both men pushed into her fully and and started to release their massive hot loads. They were telling her that she was their whore as they continued grinding into her…filling her two holes with more and more of their hot seed.Once they were finished with her holes, they pulled out and made my girl clean their dirty cocks with her tongue. Cathy smiled as she licked and sucked them clean.“That’s it, slut. Clean up our big black dicks.”Both men took turns spanking her ass as she did her work. Once they were satisfied, they got dressed and left my wife in a messy sweaty heap. She was still gasping for air ten minutes after they were gone. Once she recovered, she sucked my cock, swallowed my load and begged for more. By the time we went to bed, I’d pumped loads into her ass and pussy too. She was insatiable.I think Cathy is going to need more BBC now that she’s been turned out.DO NOT REPOST THIS STORY

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