My first fiancé, Chris, was just as open-minded a person as I am. I can honestly say that when we first met, he was probably only slightly kinkier than I was. Um, hmm. That was then. This is now. Anyways, of course, all that’s changed over the years. I’ve certainly toned it down quite a bit. (Yeah. You shoulda met me when I was just a slutty teenager.) Chris, however…
You know, he used to come up with the most inventive ideas on how we could get our rocks off. Or, at least, get our rocks build up so big that the resulting explosion when we were truly alone would encompass both of us for at least an entire weekend.
Once, we actually drove over two hours, cruising the interstate, looking for truckers. I knew I’d found our first contestant. This trucker had already ate my pussy through the v made by his first and middle fingers. Oh, and he wagged his filthy tongue at me. He’s damn lucky he didn’t hit that booger on his side window. Eww. He did. He did.
But, quickly we learned that most guys driving trucks stay horny. So, it doesn’t take too damn much to excite and stimulate them. And that was certainly the plan all along. A smooth slip of a digit or two into my snatch, while my feet assumed their positions on top of the dashboard, and all was filleted and exposed.
Those were very lusty times for me. Masturbating in front of strange men. Then, having to stop at a rest stop just to relieve the sexual pressure with my azz slung up and onto a wet and nasty public sink. And I just loved cumming all over that counter for any and all future patrons careless enough to not look at what they’re doing.
Now, to the fun part. Our pleasure on these trips was solely derived from the fact that we were giving a beautiful sexy, shaved pink pussy show for some unfortunate men. Stuck out there on the road, six, or sometimes, seven days a week. Away from their families. Someone should help. Because I’ll tell ya this. A fucked man, is a happy men. Truly, we are humanitarians. Good citizens. Intelligent human beings. Oh… And I’m great at spelling.
This truck driver must have creamed right in his dirty jeans when he watched my large round hairbrush (the one with the bright neon tips) disappear an inch at a time into my bald and youthful pink pussy. That being our first time, I’ll never forget his face. It kinda of killed how I felt about flashing and teasing truck drivers after that. F-R-I-G-H-T-E-N-I-N-G ! ! Not only did I witness cum hitting his steering wheel, but he must have followed us at least four more exits before finally getting off the highway.
You know, we’ve done lots of crazy things during our 3 year relationship. Some, we never tried again. But one of our favorites was always RolePlaying. It seems we both had a wealth of simulations in mind that we really wanted to try. We began having to trade off times to make it fair.
Sadly, the more disturbing the characters, relationships, and plot twists, the more turned on we would become. You know, the naughtier the better. Like I said, Chris was just as much a freak as I was. I loved that about him. He was willing to do just about anything, as long as everyone was truly enjoying themselves. Orgasms is how I maintain such a pleasant disposition. So, anything that assisted me in making sure I have at least two or three of those in an evening, is what I like to call… My New Best Friend.
After a couple of years of dating, Chris ended up taking a second job as a bouncer in a bar about 20 miles outside of town. He was often there very, very late at night, and I often would get very lonely at the house by myself. So, I began inviting my girlfriend to party with me sometimes until Chris was off of work and safely at home.
MY girlfriend Kim was already invited into a threesome with Chris and I before a couple of times. She actually accepted once. We realized then why we only do certain things once and, then, never EVER again. But she was the perfect drinking buddy if your old man was bouncing at a bar real late on the weekends. Woo! Hoo!
When Chris finally arrived home, I didn’t think he was in the best mood. A swift kiss on the cheek, and he was practically shoving the drunken Kim into his truck. Oh, goodness. She went in face first. Probably not the best way to go, but…
I woke suddenly from a deep slumber. I don’t know what it was that startled me, but something was certainly different. I could feel it. No. I don’t mean I could sense it. I COULD ACTUALLY FEEL IT. There was a finger inside the silky walls of my vagina. At least, I’m pretty sure it was a finger. Oh God, I hope it’s not a finger. Oh God, I HOPE IT IS A FINGER.
I was too startled to even move. The living room was so dark, although I didn’t recall leaving it that way. I couldn’t see a damn thing. Actually, that’s not true. It was definitely evident that there was some kind of a dark figure perched on the edge of the coffee table directly across from me. His face was covered. Although, I couldn’t tell with what. Oh God! I didn’t want to see a face full of pantyhose with gaping holes where my feminine parts would have rested. I think I could possibly pee my pants.
Uh oh. His finger just wiggled. How do I say that nicely? Okay. Maybe it wasn’t a wiggle. I believe it was more of a squirm. It was obvious my attacker wanted to hear my passion screamed out to the streets. What he was doing was exploring me as if I was just a specimen. It felt foreign and unwanted, and certainly, violated.
I could feel myself growing slick in the space between my thighs. I begged for the strength to fight the physical urges beginning to course through my body. And just as suddenly as it began, it just stopped. My mind began racing with my embarrassment. An intruder who thinks that I enjoy him molesting me. How humiliating. I can just imagine him telling all of his criminal cronies, and they all have a great big chuckle. Silly little white girl got a hard on for a rapist. I was mortified.
He moved, or rather, he stood. I could actually smell my own fear. That thought made me the last to realize that his crotch was now only inches from my face. I knew what he wanted. But all I could think about was, my God! That’s a really big crease in his pants. Please, please, please… Do (No! I mean DON’T. PLEASE DON’T) do this. I know that I can’t do this.
And where is my fuckin boyfriend, anyway! Probably fuckin my best friend again. So, here I may be tortured. Possibly even killed. And WHERE THE FUCK WAS HE?? I began to cry.
Then something strange happened. He took my chin. Not to offer me kind words. Not to help me to my feet. No. He lifted my chin so that he could push himself completely into my mouth. But that’s not what’s strange. The strange part was, I really wanted to suck it.
It’s obvious the man wasn’t dirty. I could smell his manly soap just as soon as he pulled down his pants. It was something kind of musky and clean smelling. Most likely some expensive body wash. He wasn’t a thug at all. He was probably somebody’s husband just out getting his jollies, while mine was out getting his. Figures.
That’s definitely when things changed. I mean, not only is he a married man, but his cock is now shoved so deep into the back of my throat that I couldn’t even utter a protest. (Like I ever had one anyway.) So, I began to gently suction it without moving my mouth. Just a stationary pull on his penis. Strangely enough, it plumped up ripe and ready then. But it was obvious to me that what he enjoyed the absolute most was a very gentle pull to his sack, full and wet lips around just the head, and then I trade off super quick with my other hand and bend in to taste the delicate skin of his taint.
He really had no flavor. Just clean and delicious. But my situation was dangerous. I knew this. But who would know if I just took a few small licks just for myself. Uh. No one. And I really, really wanted to. But who was to know the difference. I was pretty sure he wouldn’t tell. My tongue was now stroking on the left side, the right side, the underside. I even did my little trick of going all the way to the very bottom of his shaft, then sneaking my tongue out to tickle his balls.
He never let out a sound. I suppose he was afraid to speak aloud, so that I wouldn’t know he was enjoying himself. I guess this was supposed to be violent, but I didn’t feel injured. Maybe he got off on the fact that he was taking it, instead of it being freely given to you. I began to grow uncomfortable, and so I may have moved just a little..
Okay, it’s not like I was really struggling. I mean, he wan’t really hurtin me. Of course, to be honest. I did say “no” several times. Now, it’s possible they were uttered too low for anyone to hear, but… He didn’t seem to care, so I just pretended do not enjoy what I was now doing to the underside of his ball sack. But it was when I reached back to touch his sensitive taint with my tongue, that he forcefully pushed my face down into the couch. My head was now slammed in between two cushions, so I couldn’t see or hear anything. Oh, BUT I COULD FEEL EVERY SINGLE THING. Not only did I know where on my body he was headed next, but I had the violent urge to shove it inside me my damn self. But, I guess that’s not something raped woman feel too damn often. Is it?
He spun me around and snatched my pajama bottoms down. Then there was a moment of silence while he admired my azz in stunned silence. Oh God! What panties did I put on today??? Oh good. I remember now. I didn’t wear any.
The first stroke felt so good slipping into my juiced up snatch. So good, that it took me a moment to freak out. The mission this fella was on obviously did not include a rubber. For the first moment since I’d first opened my eyes, I was truly frightened.
I begin to push up from the couch, trying everything to unbend myself at the waist. I tried to say “no” more firmly this time. He had my ass in his hands and was just pumping me violently from behind, and I found it more and more difficult to even pretend that this wasn’t exactly what I needed.
I’ll admit, I don’t know why I was still able to fight him, but I absolutely couldn’t let this man cum in me. What had already transpired was bad enough already. I finally was able to push back up and off the couch, and began to struggle with him. I finally was able to shove him roughly, allowing myself to half spin to face him. With one swift motion, he had put his hand on top of my V and began gently stroking my G-spot with his forefinger and my clitoris with his thumb.
And when I came, it shot out into and over the sides of his hand, just like the many droplets now raining down the insides of my thighs. I was helpless. He turned me again, and put me back into position with my head in the pillows and stuck his dick back in my now swollen and puffy vagina.
I gave it one last try, and pushed off from him just a little. This time, he took me by the neck and held me into place with one hand on my throat, while the other hand was pulling me back by forcing my hips to slam backwards into his cock. And that’s how he fucked me. Just like that. The man must have been made of real steel.
I came so many times, that I can’t even count. Whether it was his hand on my neck or the violence with which he was raping me, I didn’t really ever want it to end. I knew that the end would be just terrible with police and investigation and having to tell my boyfriend. So I just wanted this to go on forever.
He slowed right before he let loose his own juices. He was just using those slow strokes to intentionally try to hit my G-spot. Which he was managing to do each and every single entry and departure. I tell you what… This is the kind of man you marry. Oh, but he was already married. Damn! I just realized that I’m 100% engaged also.
I was still lost in thought, when I felt his hot juices explode deep inside my body. It’s intensity almost threw me straight into another orgasm all on it’s own. I may have been out there two minutes ago, but I had all my faculties now. This man had just done not one, but several things terribly wrong. I now had someone else’s seed inside of my body. My boyfriend was NEVER going to understand this. He certainly would not understand why my cum soaked legs were now shaking too violently to walk. But she’d been the victim. Right?
He took my shoulder from behind and helped me to my feet. It was quiet. I didn’t know what to say. How do you end such an occurrence??
“Hi could you hand me the phone, please? I need to call 911 real quick.” No, I wasn’t sure this was going to turn out well at all.
Then, he began to lean closer to me. Then, even closer. What was he doing? I began to shy away, turning my cheek in the opposite direction. Oh, he was definitely trying to kiss me. I didn’t him to kiss me. He was still a nasty pervert. I wanted this to end. Now, that I’d orgasmed way too many times to count, my body utterly and completely wasted, I quite possibly could have slept for a week. Oh, and boy, was I thirsty.
He lifted the face mask slowly. As dark as it was in my house, I’m surprised he wore a mask at all. I couldn’t see his face. But the figure continued to lean further in. So, I just met him right there in the middle. It was obvious that I had finally given up completely.
And when his lips met mine, I was in heaven. This was where I had always been meant to be. I’ve never experienced such joy, as in that moment. The kiss was sweet, but it was anything but innocent. He came after my tongue like prey.
Oh, but by this time, ALL fear and surprise had left me completely. You see, when his lips finally met mine, I suddenly became sickeningly aware for the very first time that my rapist… Was also very much my boyfriend. You see, we had spent so much time discussing our sex lives, that soon, all of our naughtiest of fantasies were revealed. I’d already given him his three girl-on-girl special birthday party preset. So, next was to plan my kinky time. It was something I’d been looking forward to forever. But I really needed it to feel real. So, I told him that the only way was to do it in the future, so I wouldn’t expect it. Oh, and he wasn’t allowed to let me know. That was a year ago. Who knew he even retained information that long??
But you know… Chris never did cease to surprise me. You know, there’s a reason why we’re not together anymore. A reason we just didn’t make it, despite so many similarities. After he was finished punishing, molesting, and raping me… He couldn’t wait to yell…”MY TURN! MY TURN!