u/Deep-Root

I used to wear one of those little silver rings. All my friends did. We got them at this "celebration" they called it, with a band and banana bread and our pastor standing up on stage talking about purity and waiting and all this stuff I barely had any idea about. And then there was this promise we had to make, and we got these rings to wear as a "symbol of my pledge."

Whatever... I wasn't even thinking about dating, never mind having sex but apparently my pastor thought I was supposed to be.

And it got even weirder when I heard what girls would do with their boyfriends to "stay pure."

"Gross!" I would say.

~~~

I'd been staring at the dildo for ten minutes.

I was in my college dorm and my roommate was home for the weekend.

It was small. The smallest realistic one I could find online. I'd just picked it up from the delivery locker students could use to get orders.

I was 19 and had my first boyfriend, Jacob, and was still wearing my ring.

I was thinking I should probably practice before, you know...

I was committed! This was love, after all.

I had a mirror propped against my dresser across from the bed. Just big enough to see everything... including just how embarrassed I was.

I'd followed the article's advice. Every embarrassing step of it. The fiber supplement two days ago. The careful diet yesterday. The enema at 4:00 this morning when I thought the bathroom would be empty. That had made me want to die from mortification even though I was alone. I'd prepped. I was clean. I knew I was clean. I had to be... right?

But my brain kept whispering: what if you're not?

Anyway, I was sitting on top of the covers with a towel over the pillow wedged under my bum to tilt my hips up. Just wearing a t-shirt, legs spread, leaning back on my hands. The bottle of lube sat next to me, cap already off.

Just in case of what? I didn't want to think about it.

In the mirror I could see everything. My thighs spread wide. The hair between my legs. My pussy already glistening. And below that, barely visible, the tight pink pucker I was about to test.

I looked clean. I was clean. The article promised I'd be clean.

"Just stop thinking, Nat," I muttered. "Just try..."

I picked up the dildo. It didn't feel as small as it looked. The rubber had this slight give when I squeezed it, but it was firm. Realistic, i guess. The head was smooth and rounded. The shaft got a little thicker toward the base.

I squeezed lube onto my fingers. Too much. It dripped onto the sheets. I didn't care.

I reached down. Found myself. The tight ring felt surprisingly soft, but clenched the second my fingertip touched it.

"Relax," I breathed.

My finger circled just a little. The lube was cold and the rim kind of tickled? Every tiny movement sent sparks through me. This was new... a little electric almost.

I started to press and felt myself tighten up.

In the mirror I could see my hand between my cheeks. Could see how small the opening looked. Could see my finger testing it.

I bit my lip and pressed a little harder.

My fingertip slipped in. Just to the first knuckle.

"Oh fuck!" I heard myself say... I don't ever swear!

The rim screamed at the intrusion. That ring of nerves firing all at once, tingling. A burn that was almost too much. But as my finger sank deeper, past that tight entrance the sensation changed. Became more of a pressure than a sharp sensation. A fullness I'd never felt in that way.

My reflex to push it out. Every muscle clenched. I could feel my finger being moved around.

"No. Relax." I whimpered out loud, "I got this."

I waited and let myself adjust. As things relaxed the burning heat around my rim turned into more of a warmth... a humming, buzzing warmth.

I pushed deeper.

It was my whole finger now. The stretch at the entrance was still there where my finger angled away, still tingling, but inside was different. Inside was all pressure and more of that warmth. I could feel my heartbeat in the walls around my finger.

I pulled out slowly. The drag back through that sensitive rim made me gasp. I squirted more lube. On two fingers.

The stretch was immediate but I pushed through it, felt it give way, felt my fingers sink into that deeper pressure.

Two fingers pumping slowly. In and out. Every stroke dragging sensation through that tight ring of nerves. And deeper, something else was happening. The fullness was pressing against... something. From inside. Creating an ache that spread forward into my pelvis.

My other hand found my clit without thinking. The moment I touched it, everything connected. The pressure inside. The tingling at my rim. The direct pleasure at my clit. Like they were all the same circuit suddenly lit up.

In the mirror I watched myself. Watched my fingers disappear. Watched my face flush. Watched my tiny boobs rise and fall under my shirt with each breath.

I was ready. Or as ready as I'd be.

I lubed the dildo. Coating it. Making it shine. Then more lube on myself. Better too much than not enough.

I adjusted the pillow, leaned back further so I could see everything in the mirror. My legs were spread as far as I could. The tiny dildo looked huge in my hand. Too big. But I'd committed.

I pressed the head against my asshole.

The pressure was immediate. More than my fingers. Way more. My body resisted. The ring of muscle clenching automatically, trying to keep me out.

Or keep something in.

That's what it felt like. Like I needed to push. Like my body was confused about which direction things were supposed to go.

"It's okay... normal," I was panting. The article said that. Said it would feel like you need to go. Said to push out gently, not clench up.

I pushed. Not the dildo. Pushed out, like I was trying to... god, this was humiliating even alone. But I did it.

The pressure changed. My body opened a little. I pressed the dildo forward at the same moment.

The head started to sink in.

"Oh fuck. Oh fuck."

It felt wrong. Not painful yet, but wrong. Like everything was going the opposite direction. My brain screaming that things come OUT of there, not IN.

But I kept pushing, watching in the mirror as that tight pink ring stretched wider. As my body slowly accepted it.

"Breathe. You're clean. You're fine. Just breathe."

The head was almost in. Right at that point where it felt impossible. Where the stretch was burning and my body was trying to push it back out and I was terrified to look at the dildo when I pulled it away.

I pushed harder.

The head popped through.

"FUCK!"

I froze. Every muscle locked up. My whole body shaking.

In the mirror I could see it. The dildo lodged in my bum. Just the head. My hole stretched pale around it, gripping it. And everything was clean. The rubber was still just shiny with lube. Nothing else.

Thank god. Thank god!

I wanted to pull it out. Wanted to stop. But I also wanted to see if I could do it. Wanted to know what it felt like all the way in.

I held still, panting. Let my body adjust. Slowly that sharp rim burn faded to a throb. The ring of muscle still stretched tight around the shaft, still sending signals, but they were changing. Less alarm, more humming.

Another inch. I felt it slide past that sensitive entrance and into the deeper channel. The rim stopped screaming and started singing. A constant hum of sensation. And inside, the pressure built.

"Good girl. Good bummy." Bummy?

My voice surprised me, but felt so natural.

Another inch. I could see it disappearing into me. Could see my rim stretched pale around it, gripping it. Could see my pussy getting all wet.

My fingers found my clit again. The moment I touched it, everything shifted. The deep pressure inside my ass suddenly felt like it was pressing against something from the other side. Creating an ache that spread through my whole pelvis. My clit wasn't separate anymore. It was all connected. All the same network of nerves lighting up at once.

I pushed deeper.

Halfway now. Maybe more. The thickness was constant. Unrelenting. And that internal pressure was building. Pressing against places I didn't even know could feel sensation. Like the dildo was reaching something through the wall, touching my clit from the inside.

"Good girl! Good girl!"

I started moving it in and out. Tiny little strokes. Every time it moved, I felt it in layers. The rim responding to the drag, that electric tingle. The deeper pressure shifting, releasing, throbbing. The sensation was still weird, still felt like the wrong direction, but that was ok... it was more than ok.

I pulled it almost out, just the head still inside, then pushed back in. Faster this time. I was getting it.

I glanced at the dildo. Still clean. Just lube. I was good.

The relief mixed with the pleasure and suddenly I wasn't afraid anymore. I could do this. I was doing this!

And I began to fuck myself with it. Watching in the mirror. My small boobs bouncing slightly under my shirt with each thrust. My thighs trembling. My pussy glistening and wet. And that rubber cock disappearing into my ass over and over. The rim stretched around it, the internal pressure building, that ache spreading deeper into my pelvis with every stroke.

My fingers worked my clitoris frantically now. The two sensations weren't separate. They were feeding each other. The fullness in my ass made my clit even more sensitive and my clit made the my bum feel like... like something that was building toward a peak.

"Oh fuck. Oh fuck! I'm gonna..."

I pushed it as deep as it would go. All the way. As far as I could take it. Held it there. The rim stretched tight. The pressure inside me massive. And something responding. An ache that had spread through my whole pelvis.

Boy did I cum hard!

The first contraction was way different. My pussy was clenching on nothing but my ass clenched around rubber and suddenly I could feel the orgasm in a way I never had before. Feel the pelvic floor muscles gripping, releasing, gripping. Feel them working around something solid. Each contraction squeezing the dildo, creating more pressure, which triggered another contraction.

It built on itself. My whole body convulsing. The dildo still buried in my ass. Every clench making the rim sing. Every release making me aware of the fullness. The intensity was blinding. It wasn't just my clit, it was everything! My whole pelvis spasming way deeper than ever,coming from places I didn't even know could feel like this.

When it passed I fell back with the dildo still inside me. I could feel my ass clenching around it rhythmically still, pulsing. Then slowly, I pulled it out.

The sensation of it sliding free was almost as intense as it going in. That reverse pressure. That empty feeling left behind. I watched in the mirror as it popped free, as my hole gaped for a second, pink and puffy, before slowly closing.

I looked at the dildo in my hand. Clean. Just lube and my own wetness coating it. I brought it closer to my face.

~~~

But Jacob never asked... and when I mentioned it later (a little hopefully) he was like no! That's cheating. We need to wait.

He's such a good guy.

I mean, I remember Alex from like 15 years ago before he moved out of the neighborhood, but that was when we were just starting school. Our mom’s were always together and that meant we were too. I remember thinking we’d get married someday and have a big ice cream party. When they moved I cried and cried for, like, ever.

When I heard that he was coming back for the summer to stay with Maureen and me to save money for school, all I wanted to do was giggle and set up a tea party. But I played it soooo cool. For about 36 hours.

He started doing odd jobs around the neighborhood almost immediately… and it was just about 15 minutes later when phones started to ring about what the new pool boy was packing. Then Maureen and I saw him struggling to hide his hard-on while we watched TV one night. She and I both jerked off under blankets watching him finally cum all over the bottom of a throw cushion. You can read about that somewhere else, if you want. But between that and all the texts, Maureen and I were obsessed. And we had to get a look of our own at this cock.

It was the second or third evening he was here, when he walked past me on the way to the back deck and I couldn’t take my eyes off his shorts. The way they clung to him, the bulge right there, swinging with every step. I bit my lip and felt myself getting wet just watching him. My brain went fuzzy. All I wanted was to be close to that cock. Just for a minute. Or forever.

Maureen called, “Alex, come outside!”

He followed her voice, and I followed him, didn’t even think about it. Like my body moved on its own. My feet padded across the tile, my heart thumped in my chest, and the whole world felt blurry except his ass in those shorts and the promise of what was swinging around in front.

We got to the deck table. Alex stood there all awkward and shy, hands fidgeting, looking lost. Maureen sat with her wine, eyes sparkling. “Put your hands on the table, Alex,” she said, cool as anything.

I dropped to my knees under the glass top. I didn’t need Maureen to tell me to. My hands tingled, my mouth watered. My nipples were hard under my tank, poking through the thin cotton. I pinched one and shivered.

Alex’s thighs were right in front of me, close enough to feel the heat off his skin. His cock made a fat sausage under the shorts, solid and obvious. I could see the ridge of his head right there, and it wasn’t even hard. I wanted it…. I needed it! My pussy clenched, and my brain just emptied out.

He asked Maureen, all confused, “Am I… in trouble?”

I almost laughed, but it came out as a stupid, giggly whimper. “Yeah, Alex, we’re gonna put you in jail!” I said, but my voice cracked, all high and needy. I couldn’t stop giggling. My hand slid up his thigh, squeezed. He jumped, hips flinching, and I felt my pussy gush even more.

He caught my eye. Right there, under the table, those big brown eyes searching my face like he wanted to know what game we were playing. Poor, sweet, confused Alex.

I grinned up at him, bratty and desperate. Well, this is what you get for leaving me fifteen years ago, I thought, all heat and fizz. Now you have to give me your whole cock. Every inch. I’m not letting go until you do.

Maureen was speaking to him, whispering something about secrets and the neighborhood into his ear. I didn’t care what she was saying. I just wanted the shorts down. I needed it. The want was screaming in my head.

I played with his waistband, fingers trembling. The head of his cock was starting to swell, a dark spot of precum starting to seep through his shorts. I pulled his shorts down slowly, and his cocks started to appear. It just kept going, all thick and veiny, practically to his knees, then it sprung up and smacked against my cheek with a thick, sticky sound. I gasped and giggled. A hot streak of precum smeared across my chin. I shuddered and licked at it, salty and perfect, my eyes rolling back.

He was so hard already. So thick it made my hands look tiny. Veins bulged, the skin both tight and soft. I nuzzled under the shaft, rubbing my nose along the underside, breathing him in. My mouth hung open, drool already dripping down my chin. I didn’t care. I wanted to drown.

I wrapped both hands around him as best I could. My lips stretched and I slurped the head into my mouth, sucking, rolling my tongue over the slit. “Mmmglh!” Wet and sloppy. His hips jerked, and I gagged, pulling him deeper, more spit pouring down, coating my hands, my chin, his cock. Glonking, slurping, messy, so messy. My fingers pinched my nipple hard. It hurt, but I liked it.

I moaned around him, the sound buzzing up the shaft. “Mmmmmh, glphh, sshhllll.” His cock throbbed, leaking more, and I tried to swallow it all, desperate. I pressed my fingers to my cunt, rubbing through the wet cotton, hips rocking. I wanted him to feel how much I needed him.

Maureen moved behind him, her hands on his hips, then her mouth. She licked under his balls from behind. Kissed his ass, tongue clearly working somewhere I couldn’t see. Alex whimpered, a sharp, high sound, hips shaking. I took him deeper, throat stretching, spit bubbling, nose buried in his belly. “Guhhh—kkk—” My eyes watered, my face a mess.

His balls tightened in my palm. I sucked harder, swirling my tongue, milking every drop I could get. I pulled off with a pop, sucked in air, then dove back down, drool everywhere, spit strings hanging from my lips. I heard myself moaning and couldn’t stop. “Hnnngh, sshlurp, mmmfhh.”

Maureen’s fingers pressed under his balls, working into his ass, and Alex’s whole body jerked. I glanced up, eyes blurry, and saw Maureen grinning, wild. She winked at me. I wanted to make her proud. I wanted to make him cum so hard he forgot his name.

He was close. I could feel it, his hips pumping, thighs trembling, cock burning on my tongue. I pulled off, mouth wide, tongue out, face up, begging. “Please, Alex… please… give it to me…”

He grunted, a broken sound, and then it hit. Hot ropes across my lips, my cheek, my nose, thick and salty, then more, splattering my chin, my tits. My jaw dropped, giggling, moaning, cum dripping down into my throat. I rubbed it in, smeared it everywhere, laughing and crying at the same time, empty-headed and stupid and so fucking happy.

He sagged forward, panting, cock throbbing slowly. I nuzzled it, licked the slit, cleaned every last drop, humming and slurping, “mmmmfphh, shhlup, nnnnhhh.” My face had to be a mess I thought, sticky, shiny, perfect.

Maureen stroked his back, her own fingers glistening. She smiled at me, and I beamed, still on my knees, still hungry and needy. My cunt was throbbing and my mind was blank except for the taste of him, the ache, the want.

And I wanted more. God I wanted more!

My knees ached, but I didn’t care. My face was slippery, lips tingling, spit and cum smeared all over my chin and neck. I stared up at Alex, grinning like an idiot, tongue out, drool stringing down to his cock. My whole head felt full of static, like my brain was packed with cum and sparkles and nothing else.

God, I was so fucking good. I was the best little cum-slut! Wasn’t I? My pussy throbbed every time I swallowed, every time I smeared another streak of him over my cheeks. “Mmmm, mmmh, fuuuuck,” I moaned, louder than I meant to, lost in it.

I hugged behind his thigh, nuzzled my nose right under his cock, licking what I could reach. I wanted every drop, every drop. His fingers tangled in my hair, clumsy, and I almost purred. “Yessss… I’m a good girl, good girl,” I whispered to myself, too dumb and happy to care if anyone heard.

Maureen’s hand slipped down my back, nails tickling. She leaned close, breath warm on my ear, voice soft but thick with heat. “You did so well, Mimi. He’s a mess. Look at him.”

I looked. Alex was drooping over the table, shaking, mouth open, eyes glassy. He looked ruined. I did that. Me!

My cunt pulsed. I rocked my hips, grinding my own hand against the mess in my shorts. “Am I a good girl, good girl…?” The words just spilled out, sloppy and high and sweet. I needed to hear them. I needed everyone to hear them.

“Oh, yes… You’re a very good girl! Isn’t Mimi a good little cum-slut, Alex?” she purred.

I licked the shaft one more time like a kitty, swallowed more cum, loving how thick and salty and sticky it was. “Thank you, thank you,” I burbled, not sure who I was talking to. Maureen, Alex, the world.

My whole body was buzzing. I was so empty, so floaty, like I could melt into the floor and be nothing but mouth and cunt and smile.

Maureen pulled me up, kissed me all over my face. I giggled, sticky between my thighs, face shiny with spit and cum. “What a good little slut!,” she said again. I almost cried, I was so happy.

I rubbed his cock against my cheek, nuzzling like a kitten. “More?” I asked, whining, not sure I’d ever be done.

Alex just groaned, his hand sliding in my hair. I licked his knuckles, eyes rolling, loving the taste of him everywhere, loving the way Maureen smiled at me, loving everything.

I was empty-headed, blissed out, hungry and happy and good. I was such a good cum-whore!

I didn’t want it to end.

I wanted to be like this forever. It was perfect!

And then the doorbell rang, somewhere far away, somewhere beyond the fizz between my ears and cum dripping from my lips.

My wife and I have this couple we see a lot from church. I actually helped the guy out when he was looking for work. Got him a job. Good guy. His wife, Marcy is polite, warm, a little too warm. She’s got a great body. Slender but with an ass that’s completely unfair. Even in the most modest slacks, you can see the shape of it, like her clothes are trying and failing to behave.

She’s always happy to see us. Hugs that last a little longer than they should. Eye contact that lingers a beat too long. Her husband doesn’t seem to notice. Or maybe he’s just decided to ignore it.

One night we were at a group dinner… some event, I don’t even remember what, and I overheard Marcy say to my wife, “You know I have the hugest crush on Mark.” Said it like she was talking about liking red wine or having a favorite show. My wife laughed and said, “I knooow you do. So does every wife here.” I smiled and acted like I didn’t hear it. But I did. And I remembered.

A week later we all go out to dinner. Afterward, they’re driving us back to our place.. Somehow, it ends up with her husband and my wife in the front seats, and me and Marcy in the back. I don’t know if it was planned or just happened. But the second the doors shut, I knew it was something.

We hadn’t even pulled out of the lot when she slid over next to me. Close. Warm. Her thigh against mine. She leaned in, her voice low and unsteady, breath hitting my neck.

“Do you know how much I love you?”

I laughed it off, but her hand was already under my arm, slipping toward my leg. She shifted her hips, leaned in closer.

“I see how you look at my ass,” she whispered. “I like it. I think about it when I walk in front of you. When I bend over in the church kitchen.”

Her fingers brushed the inside of my thigh. Then my balls. I froze. My heart was hammering. She was staring at me like we were the only two people on earth.

In the front, our spouses were chatting like nothing was happening. He had to see this in the mirror. There was no way not to.

Marcy climbed halfway into my lap. Her breath was in my mouth. Her lips brushing mine. Her skirt was bunched up at her waist. My hands fell to her legs without even thinking. Smooth skin. Warm. She started to grind her hips over me, the cotton of her panties slick already. She grabbed my hand, pushed it between her legs, right into the soaked fabric. I could feel everything through it, heat, softness, the swell of her clit, the hair under the thin material.

She undid my fly. My cock popped out, hard as I’ve ever been. She didn’t stroke it. Just pressed her thumb into the underside and looked into my eyes.

“Take the long way home, Darryl,” she said.

And Darryl, from the front seat, said, “Yeah, maybe we’ll take a little drive.”

She knelt between my legs. No teasing. No warmup. She took my cock all the way into her mouth, fast. Her throat caught it and she gagged, quietly. Then again. Wet. Hot. Her head bobbed slowly while the front seat filled with polite conversation and classic rock.

I was frozen. Rock hard, mouth dry, heart pounding. But she was relentless. One hand on my balls, the other steadying herself against the seat. The suction was steady, wet, and somehow silent enough that I almost convinced myself no one could hear.

Then she pulled off, gasping a little. She turned, pulled her panties down from under her skirt. I saw her bare ass rise, barely a foot from the back of the driver’s headrest. She climbed back into my lap, straddling, hot and dripping. She slid her pussy against me slowly, letting my cock run through her folds. I could feel the mess. She kissed me then, wet, hungry. Her tongue filled my mouth. Her hips shifted, and suddenly I was inside her.

She gasped. Eyes wide, locked on mine. Her pussy gripped me like a fist. She rolled her hips, slow and deep, grinding down into my lap with quiet, shaking breaths.

They kept talking. We were silent (I thought, anyway). Just the sounds of her breath in my ear, her thighs clenching around me, the soft wet slap of our bodies.

She didn’t say anything about her husband. Or my wife. She didn’t act like it was a secret. She just moved, up and down, steady, like this was what her body had been waiting for. I held her ass in both hands, fingers digging into the soft curve, trying not to lose it.

When the car turned off the freeway, she started to fuck harder. Faster. Her breath caught. Her thighs started shaking.

“I don’t want this to end,” she whispered. “I’ve needed this for so long.”

She dropped her head to my shoulder. I felt her tighten. Then she came. Hard. Hips grinding, breath catching. And that was it for me. I grunted once, tried to hold her in place, and then I was pulsing inside her, wave after wave.

She didn’t move right away. Just stayed there, holding me inside her. Her hair clung to her face. She gave a soft laugh, a kiss, and then slid off, fixing her skirt.

She rejoined the conversation like nothing happened.

We pulled up to our house. Everyone said goodnight. My wife reached for my hand as we walked to the door, laced her fingers through mine, and didn’t say a word.

I know the other women at church like my husband.

I see them. The way they hold his gaze a beat too long. The way they find reasons to touch his arm when they talk. The way they laugh at things that aren't that funny. And I'm not a bit jealous. I married him. I get to take him home.

But Marcy is different.

Marcy practically drips. Slides right off the pew, she gets so wet.

She never wears a bra. She might not think she needs to, those tiny breasts barely making a shadow under her blouse, but wow. Her nipples are hard to miss. Little points pressing through cotton, through linen, through everything. And whenever Mark enters a room she just kind of... stops talking. Mid-sentence sometimes. Her eyes drift off and narrow as she focuses on him. Tracks him like a lab tracks a rabbit.

She's always laughing at his jokes. Always finding excuses to touch his arms. Her husband Darryl doesn't seem to notice, or maybe he's just decided not to.

I think it's kind of cute. I trust Mark. And Marcy is hot as heck in a very Laura Dern kind of way, but short and dark and nervous with a perfect round ass that stretches every pair of slacks she owns and doesn't seem to fit on her tiny frame.

We were at dinner in the church hall a few weeks back. Fellowship potluck. Paper plates, lukewarm casserole, the usual. Mark and Darryl were at the other end of the table talking about the game or work or something. Marcy and I were picking at pie.

And out of nowhere she turns to me. Her cheeks are pink. Her voice drops.

"I need to tell you something. I have the biggest crush on your husband."

She looks terrified. Like she's just confessed to a crime.

"Oh, I know," I say. I keep my voice light. "All the wives adore Mark."

"But I'm different." She's leaning closer now, almost whispering. "I mean... I really, really love him. I think about him all the time. I can't stop."

Her eyes are wet. She's shaking a little.

I should be upset. I know that. A normal wife would be upset.

But I'm not... either, I guess.

I feel my own nipples harden. A tight little tension between my thighs.

I lean in closer. Our shoulders almost touch. I can smell her perfume and the weak church coffee.

"What do you love about him, Marcy?"

She blinks. Wasn't expecting that.

"I... everything. The way he listens. The way he fixes things. His voice."

"Mmhmm." I nod slowly. "His forearms? The way he just seems to get things done?"

"Yes." She's breathing faster now. "All of it."

I drop my voice even lower. My lips are almost at her ear.

"Do you dream about his cock, Marcy?"

Her mouth falls open. A tiny gasp escapes. Her whole body goes rigid.

I mean, how did she think this conversation was actually going to go?

"Because he's got an amazing cock." I let the words settle. "I'm not saying it's huge. But sometimes it seems that way. My hands fit right around it, and I can feel every vein. And when he gets really hard, that swollen purple head..." I trail off, watching her face.

Her mouth is hanging open. Her lips are wet. One hand has disappeared under the table.

"Is that what you dream about, Marcy?"

She can't speak. She just nods. A little desperate nod.

I glance down the table. Mark is laughing at something Darryl said. Neither of them is looking our way. The rest of the hall is full of chatter and the clink of forks on plates.

I reach over, casual as anything, and brush my fingers across her chest. Find her nipple through the thin fabric. Big and hard now. I give it the softest pinch.

She whimpers. Her hips shift on the folding chair.

"You want to know what his cum tastes like?" I whisper.

She nods again. Her hand is definitely moving under the table now. I can see the rhythm of it in her shoulder.

"Like salted ice cream. It coats your tongue and you don't want to swallow because you want to keep tasting it." I roll her nipple between my fingers, hidden by the angle of our bodies. "And right before he finishes, it pearls up at the tip and drips down off his head like a melting ice cream cone."

Marcy's breath... it's almost like she's holding her breath. Her thighs press together.

My own hand finds my lap. I hike my skirt up just enough, press my the side of my fingers against the heat between my legs, and start to grind. Just rocking my hips against my own hand while I talk.

"He makes this sound when he comes, low in his chest. And his cock throbs. You can feel every pulse as his cum shoots up throguh it."

Marcy's eyes are glazed. She's staring at nothing. Her hand moves faster under the table.

I lean in until my lips brush her ear.

"You've got such a perfect ass, Marcy. I watch it. All the wives do, you know. Do you know what it would look like with Mark behind you? His hands gripping those perfect round cheeks, spreading you open, his cock sliding in while his balls slap against you?"

She makes a strangled sound. Her whole body shivers.

"Does Darryl ever fuck your ass, Marcy?"

She shakes her head. Tiny. Almost imperceptible.

"It's tight, isn't it? That little hole." I pinch her nipple harder. "But you'd let Mark in there, wouldn't you? You'd beg him for it. Beg him to stretch you open and fill you up where no one else has been."

Her breath is ragged now. Short little gasps she's trying to hide. I can feel her nipple standing up even harder under my fingers.

I press my palm harder against my clit, grind in tight circles, feel the pressure building.

"Sometimes I suck him until he begs. And then I swallow everything. Every drop. And he stays hard, Marcy. He stays hard and wants more."

"Do you think about riding him?" I whisper. "Feeling him split you open? Your tight little pussy stretched around him? And then when you're dripping with his cum, he bends you over and takes your ass too?"

She makes a another sound as air tries to escape from her lungs.

Down the table, Darryl laughs at something. Mark takes a sip of his drink.

"I could share him with you." The words come out before I even decide to say them. "I could let you have him. Would you like that?"

Marcy's whole body goes stiff. Her mouth opens. Her eyes squeeze shut.

She's coming. Right there at the fellowship dinner. Her thighs clamped together, her hand buried between them, coming to the thought of my husband's cock while I pinch her nipple through her shirt.

And I'm right there with her. The wave crests and I bite the inside of my cheek to keep quiet, grinding down on my palm, feeling myself clench and pulse and soak through my panties.

We stay frozen like that for three seconds. Four. Then Marcy exhales, opens her eyes, and looks at me like I'm something holy.

I pull my hand out from under the table. Smooth my skirt.

"Well," I say, smiling, reaching for my water glass. "That's settled then."

Mark looks over at us from down the table, curious.

"Everything okay over there?"

"Perfect," I say. "Marcy was just telling me about her banana bread recipe."

He nods, turns back to Darryl.

Marcy hasn't said a word. She's just staring at me, cheeks flushed, thighs still pressed together, her tiny breasts rising and falling too fast.

I hold her hand.

"I think we can make this happen." I smile at her.

So I had kind of a slutty semester last spring. Like 11 guys maybe 12. I stopped counting. My roomate thought I was such a slut. She loved it. Sometimes she was in the room pretendding to sleep. None of it was that great realy. Just guys from parties or tinder or a TA. They'd cum, I'd probably fake it, and then I'd be lying there thinking about whatever. Maybe the last guy.

I started thinking maybe I was just over it. Like maybe dick wasn't gonna do it for me anymore. Cool. Whatever.

Anyway I was staying with my mom's friend Maureen for the summer. And this guy Alex was staying there too. He's a friend of Maureens too or something. I actually knew him when we were kids like 15 years ago. We used to play together when our moms hung out. I remember telling my mom I was gonna marry him lol.

So he shows up and hes... fine I guess? I mean, cute. Swimmer. Kinda quiet but nice. weirdly shy. I mean, I kinda wanted things to be like when we were kids, but that's weird, I know.

But then I started hearing stuff. Maureen getting phone calls from the neighbors about him. Whispering about the "pool boy." I pretended not to listen but like. I heard.

Then I put it together... this was the Alex from the pool story. those girls who freaked about the anaconda in his banana sling. We all heard the story, but that couldn't have been my Alex?

And I thought that was weird. Like why would they laugh at a big dick?

Then, well... just now...

He'd been at some neighbors house all afternoon doing yard work. Came back all sweaty and gross. Maureen told him to go shower before dinner.

I'd left my bracelet by the bathroom sink after my shower so I went to grab it. Didn't think anything of the shower running... I mean, I had brothers at home. No biggie.

Right. No biggie...

I knew he was in the shower, but figured steam and all. Nope

He was washing his hair so couldn't see, but holy hell... I know why the girls laughed. They weren't being mean. It was complete fucking terror

His cock was hanging almost to his knees! It was soft and bigger than most of the hard-ons on pron-hub.

And it just swung there.

I couldn't breathe. My whole body went hot. Not like horny hot. Different. Like almost nausea, and my chest got tight and my brain just went fuzzy.

I was almost laughing myself... or crying... I don't know. But this was a different kind of cock. And I couldn't take my eyes off it.

I couldn't have been there long. He had his eyes closed, water running down his face. Didn't know I was there. I was just frozen staring at his cock through the glass like a fucking creep.

My hands were shaking. I had grabbed my bracelet, but I didn't have my bra in my hand... I must have left it in there! Jesus!

I didn't know what to do. I just sat on my bed trying to calm down. My thighs were pressed together so tight. I was so wet it was embarrassing. From looking at someone for like 30 seconds. Through foggy glass.

I couldn't stop thinking about it. The size of it. How it swung... anaconda was right. How those stupid fucking girls laughed at him when they should have... I don't know. They should have known what they were looking at.

I heard the shower turn off. Heard him moving around in there. Finding my bra probably. I wanted to die. I also wanted to go back in.

I ducked out to sneak down to dinner, but he was just coming out of the bathrooom... towel around his waist. He was hiding something under it... I could tell. My bra. I just kind of stared.

I said "Dinner's in five, loser" because apparently I turn into a 12 year old when I'm nervous.

I couldn't not think about it during dinner... and it was, like, right there in his shorts. There's no hiding that cock.

So yeah. 11 guys that semester. Not one of them made me feel like THAT.

I wasn't sure what was going to happen that summer. His room was 15 feet away. We were all planning on watching a movie that night... and chill.

Right... Chill.

Even when we were kids I was trying to impress Natalie. She'd be sitting with her friends on the stone wall in front of the Wyatt's and the boys would be on their bikes trying to pop wheelies or riding around no hands.

I'd try to be so cool riding by making faces at the girls doing whatever the girls did, but that was really all just an excuse to look at Natalie.

She was kind of an awkward kid, and so I was I guess... but to me she was the most beautiful girl in the world next to my mother.

As we got older she didn't really lose that awkwardness the way other kids did. And I never really stopped trying to impress her. I don't think I ever really did.

When we were in the same classes she seemed to always get the B+ when I got the B. In our track meets, she'd come in second in her events while I came in third in mine. And what made it worse was that she didn't even know I was trying. And I've always kept that to myself.

Prom was actually our first date. I know she'd been asked by a couple of the more awkward guys... you know, all the nerds kind of hung out with each other by default. But she didn't say yes to any of them. I guess she knew they were nerds too. And it was just kind of lucky when we were at the track one afternoon and everyone was talking about dresses and kegs and whatever, and she and I happened to be standing next to each other. She was the one who suggested it... "If you're not going with anyone, maybe we should just go together?" she'd said.

And that was the one time I felt like I was the one who had won.

We started kind of dating after that night, and I felt like I had more of her attention to try to prove myself. I took a job right after graduation instead of wasting money on college and was making almost ten bucks an hour at the plant while she was in community college. And we kind of knew right away that we were going to stay together.

We were both religious, and took it more seriously than the kids around us. We'd make out and rub and sometimes I'd cum in my pants, and sometimes she'd grind and grind on my thigh until she'd make a mess. I didn't like either of those things after they happened. But there was no stopping it while it was.

We didn't have actual sex until our honeymoon. I know that sounds crazy, but it's true. And I thought it was going to be another chance to impress her, never mind how nervous I was.

And it was no real surprise when I fell just short. I came so hard and so fast it just kind of splashed all over her, and while I felt the shame building she grabbed me and made me watch while she just kept on masturbating in the mess trying to coax me to touch her again.

And then her fingers went down between her legs to her bum and she started swirling my cum around her asshole.

"Oh, Jacob... It's okay, really! Look! See, I'm going to finger my own bum with your little cummies... wouldn't you like that? Don't you want to touch it too? You could use your fingers, or you could press your penis up into all this mess!"

And I had no idea what to do... I felt my face get even redder and I turned away and went to the bathroom.

"Noo! Jacob... please come back and touch me here! Please!"

And I shut the door and started to brush my teeth.

I felt like such a dissapointment. It should have been so different.

We did eventually have better sex, but never like I heard guys talk about. Maybe once a week, I guess.

But I kept trying to impress my new wife in different ways. I took every overtime hour I could at the plant. I mowed the lawn twice a week. And I made sure her car was always running myself. Never took it to a garage.

And she'd smile and I'd know that I was doing okay.

It wasn't long after we'd been married that my company asked me to become an assistant foreman for safety at one of our plants a couple hundred miles away. They'd even pay relocation fees and for a mover and help with a housing bonus for 6 months.

Of course I agreed right away, and got home all excited to tell Natalie I'd gotten a big promotion and that we were moving!

And she was the best... looked me right in the eye and smiled that little awkward smile of hers that I'd loved for so many years.

The new gig was great, and there was a ton of overtime. And Natalie found us a church that we'd go to on Sundays. We were clearly the youngest of the adults. Or "big kids" as Natalie would call them. I didn't really like that. We weren't kids anymore. I had a real job!

Natalie started hanging around with the wives, and bringing us to the pot-lucks and picnics. And before long she found a Bible study on Wednesday nights.

That was so great, that she'd found her circle of friends and that they were so involved in the church just like we'd been growing up. And that was particularly good because I'd just been moved to second shift and wasn't around hardly at all, with the overtime and all. And then there was the house and yard and car to take care of. But it was such a relief that Nat was out taking care of herself and her soul while I was handling the important stuff.

I got home early one Wednesday. Equipment issue on the line, sent us all home by eleven, which almost never happens. I figured Nat would be up, maybe watching something, and I could surprise her.

She wasn't home.

Bible study must have gone late... I bet that was just another glass of wine. Whatever. Jesus drank wine, after all, right?

I was beat, and in knew these hours weren't free. Probably be called in for a double tomorrow. I hit the pillow hard after snarfing a slice of banana bread.

I sort of heard her come in later. Had no idea what time. And I was almost out again when I heard the buzzing.

A low hum... The personal massager she keeps in her nightstand, the one her sister got her last Christmas. She'd said it was for Natalie's chronic stiff neck, but her brothers didn't quite buy that. But I know she has a stiff neck a lot, and I'm not really good at rubbing it out.

I hear it a lot when she can't sleep. I'm pretty good at sleeping through it. But I do buy her a new pillow to try every couple weeks. I mean, that overtime is good for something, right?

I was sort of half awake, and I could have said something or offered to rub her neck, but by her breathing she seemed to be doing ok.

She was on her belly, face in the pillow. I could see that much in the shadows. The hum changed pitch a little. And then she made a sound that might have been a word if it wasn't for the pillow between her teeth.

She does that sometimes when the knots in her shoulders finally give. Like a pressure valve.

I was glad she had that thing, honestly. I'm not sure what she does all day aside from all her church stuff, but a stiff neck sucks. I should try that thing myself sometime.

I could feel the mattress start to shake. She must really be digging in with that thing.

I thought about the C-line intake sequence back at work. Thought about whether I should call Rick in the morning before his shift. My eyes closed for real.

I don't know how long she kept at it. I woke up once at two-something and it was quiet and Nat was asleep, and I lay there for a second in the dark feeling like something I couldn't name and then I put it down to the weird schedule tonight.

In the morning she was up before me making coffee and she smiled when I came down, her regular smile, that awkward one I'd loved since she'd watch me from the stone wall. I felt like I was doing okay. She had her people. She had her church nights. I had the overtime. And I'd get to the lawn this morning, right after I called Rick. And right before I knew they'd be calling me in.

Even when we were kids I was trying to impress Natalie. She'd be sitting with her friends on the stone wall in front of the Wyatt's and the boys would be on their bikes trying to pop wheelies or riding around no hands.

I'd try to be so cool riding by making faces at the girls doing whatever the girls did, but that was really all just an excuse to look at Natalie.

She was kind of an awkward kid, and so I was I guess... but to me she was the most beautiful girl in the world next to my mother.

As we got older she didn't really lose that awkwardness the way other kids did. And I never really stopped trying to impress her. I don't think I ever really did.

When we were in the same classes she seemed to always get the B+ when I got the B. In our track meets, she'd come in second in her events while I came in third in mine. And what made it worse was that she didn't even know I was trying. And I've always kept that to myself.

Prom was actually our first date. I know she'd been asked by a couple of the more awkward guys... you know, all the nerds kind of hung out with each other by default. But she didn't say yes to any of them. I guess she knew they were nerds too. And it was just kind of lucky when we were at the track one afternoon and everyone was talking about dresses and kegs and whatever, and she and I happened to be standing next to each other. She was the one who suggested it... "If you're not going with anyone, maybe we should just go together?" she'd said.

And that was the one time I felt like I was the one who had won.

We started kind of dating after that night, and I felt like I had more of her attention to try to prove myself. I took a job right after graduation instead of wasting money on college and was making almost ten bucks an hour at the plant while she was in community college. And we kind of knew right away that we were going to stay together.

We were both religious, and took it more seriously than the kids around us. We'd make out and rub and sometimes I'd cum in my pants, and sometimes she'd grind and grind on my thigh until she'd make a mess. I didn't like either of those things after they happened. But there was no stopping it while it was.

We didn't have actual sex until our honeymoon. I know that sounds crazy, but it's true. And I thought it was going to be another chance to impress her, never mind how nervous I was.

And it was no real surprise when I fell just short. I came so hard and so fast it just kind of splashed all over her, and while I felt the shame building she grabbed me and made me watch while she just kept on masturbating in the mess trying to coax me to touch her again.

And then her fingers went down between her legs to her bum and she started swirling my cum around her asshole.

"Oh, Jacob... It's okay, really! Look! See, I'm going to finger my own bum with your little cummies... wouldn't you like that? Don't you want to touch it too? You could use your fingers, or you could press your penis up into all this mess!"

And I had no idea what to do... I felt my face get even redder and I turned away and went to the bathroom.

"Noo! Jacob... please come back and touch me here! Please!"

And I shut the door and started to brush my teeth.

I felt like such a dissapointment. It should have been so different.

We did eventually have better sex, but never like I heard guys talk about. Maybe once a week, I guess.

But I kept trying to impress my new wife in different ways. I took every overtime hour I could at the plant. I mowed the lawn twice a week. And I made sure her car was always running myself. Never took it to a garage.

And she'd smile and I'd know that I was doing okay.

It wasn't long after we'd been married that my company asked me to become an assistant foreman for safety at one of our plants a couple hundred miles away. They'd even pay relocation fees and for a mover and help with a housing bonus for 6 months.

Of course I agreed right away, and got home all excited to tell Natalie I'd gotten a big promotion and that we were moving!

And she was the best... looked me right in the eye and smiled that little awkward smile of hers that I'd loved for so many years.

The new gig was great, and there was a ton of overtime. And Natalie found us a church that we'd go to on Sundays. We were clearly the youngest of the adults. Or "big kids" as Natalie would call them. I didn't really like that. We weren't kids anymore. I had a real job!

Natalie started hanging around with the wives, and bringing us to the pot-lucks and picnics. And before long she found a Bible study on Wednesday nights.

That was so great, that she'd found her circle of friends and that they were so involved in the church just like we'd been growing up. And that was particularly good because I'd just been moved to second shift and wasn't around hardly at all, with the overtime and all. And then there was the house and yard and car to take care of. But it was such a relief that Nat was out taking care of herself and her soul while I was handling the important stuff.

I got home early one Wednesday. Equipment issue on the line, sent us all home by eleven, which almost never happens. I figured Nat would be up, maybe watching something, and I could surprise her.

She wasn't home.

Bible study must have gone late... I bet that was just another glass of wine. Whatever. Jesus drank wine, after all, right?

I was beat, and in knew these hours weren't free. Probably be called in for a double tomorrow. I hit the pillow hard after snarfing a slice of banana bread.

I sort of heard her come in later. Had no idea what time. And I was almost out again when I heard the buzzing.

A low hum... The personal massager she keeps in her nightstand, the one her sister got her last Christmas. She'd said it was for Natalie's chronic stiff neck, but her brothers didn't quite buy that. But I know she has a stiff neck a lot, and I'm not really good at rubbing it out.

I hear it a lot when she can't sleep. I'm pretty good at sleeping through it. But I do buy her a new pillow to try every couple weeks. I mean, that overtime is good for something, right?

I was sort of half awake, and I could have said something or offered to rub her neck, but by her breathing she seemed to be doing ok.

She was on her belly, face in the pillow. I could see that much in the shadows. The hum changed pitch a little. And then she made a sound that might have been a word if it wasn't for the pillow between her teeth.

She does that sometimes when the knots in her shoulders finally give. Like a pressure valve.

I was glad she had that thing, honestly. I'm not sure what she does all day aside from all her church stuff, but a stiff neck sucks. I should try that thing myself sometime.

I could feel the mattress start to shake. She must really be digging in with that thing.

I thought about the C-line intake sequence back at work. Thought about whether I should call Rick in the morning before his shift. My eyes closed for real.

I don't know how long she kept at it. I woke up once at two-something and it was quiet and Nat was asleep, and I lay there for a second in the dark feeling like something I couldn't name and then I put it down to the weird schedule tonight.

In the morning she was up before me making coffee and she smiled when I came down, her regular smile, that awkward one I'd loved since she'd watch me from the stone wall. I felt like I was doing okay. She had her people. She had her church nights. I had the overtime. And I'd get to the lawn this morning, right after I called Rick. And right before I knew they'd be calling me in.

Even when we were kids I was trying to impress Natalie. She'd be sitting with her friends on the stone wall in front of the Wyatt's and the boys would be on their bikes trying to pop wheelies or riding around no hands.

I'd try to be so cool riding by making faces at the girls doing whatever the girls did, but that was really all just an excuse to look at Natalie.

She was kind of an awkward kid, and so I was I guess... but to me she was the most beautiful girl in the world next to my mother.

As we got older she didn't really lose that awkwardness the way other kids did. And I never really stopped trying to impress her. I don't think I ever really did.

When we were in the same classes she seemed to always get the B+ when I got the B. In our track meets, she'd come in second in her events while I came in third in mine. And what made it worse was that she didn't even know I was trying. And I've always kept that to myself.

Prom was actually our first date. I know she'd been asked by a couple of the more awkward guys... you know, all the nerds kind of hung out with each other by default. But she didn't say yes to any of them. I guess she knew they were nerds too. And it was just kind of lucky when we were at the track one afternoon and everyone was talking about dresses and kegs and whatever, and she and I happened to be standing next to each other. She was the one who suggested it... "If you're not going with anyone, maybe we should just go together?" she'd said.

And that was the one time I felt like I was the one who had won.

We started kind of dating after that night, and I felt like I had more of her attention to try to prove myself. I took a job right after graduation instead of wasting money on college and was making almost ten bucks an hour at the plant while she was in community college. And we kind of knew right away that we were going to stay together.

We were both religious, and took it more seriously than the kids around us. We'd make out and rub and sometimes I'd cum in my pants, and sometimes she'd grind and grind on my thigh until she'd make a mess. I didn't like either of those things after they happened. But there was no stopping it while it was.

We didn't have actual sex until our honeymoon. I know that sounds crazy, but it's true. And I thought it was going to be another chance to impress her, never mind how nervous I was.

And it was no real surprise when I fell just short. I came so hard and so fast it just kind of splashed all over her, and while I felt the shame building she grabbed me and made me watch while she just kept on masturbating in the mess trying to coax me to touch her again.

And then her fingers went down between her legs to her bum and she started swirling my cum around her asshole.

"Oh, Jacob... It's okay, really! Look! See, I'm going to finger my own bum with your little cummies... wouldn't you like that? Don't you want to touch it too? You could use your fingers, or you could press your penis up into all this mess!"

And I had no idea what to do... I felt my face get even redder and I turned away and went to the bathroom.

"Noo! Jacob... please come back and touch me here! Please!"

And I shut the door and started to brush my teeth.

I felt like such a dissapointment. It should have been so different.

We did eventually have better sex, but never like I heard guys talk about. Maybe once a week, I guess.

But I kept trying to impress my new wife in different ways. I took every overtime hour I could at the plant. I mowed the lawn twice a week. And I made sure her car was always running myself. Never took it to a garage.

And she'd smile and I'd know that I was doing okay.

It wasn't long after we'd been married that my company asked me to become an assistant foreman for safety at one of our plants a couple hundred miles away. They'd even pay relocation fees and for a mover and help with a housing bonus for 6 months.

Of course I agreed right away, and got home all excited to tell Natalie I'd gotten a big promotion and that we were moving!

And she was the best... looked me right in the eye and smiled that little awkward smile of hers that I'd loved for so many years.

The new gig was great, and there was a ton of overtime. And Natalie found us a church that we'd go to on Sundays. We were clearly the youngest of the adults. Or "big kids" as Natalie would call them. I didn't really like that. We weren't kids anymore. I had a real job!

Natalie started hanging around with the wives, and bringing us to the pot-lucks and picnics. And before long she found a Bible study on Wednesday nights.

That was so great, that she'd found her circle of friends and that they were so involved in the church just like we'd been growing up. And that was particularly good because I'd just been moved to second shift and wasn't around hardly at all, with the overtime and all. And then there was the house and yard and car to take care of. But it was such a relief that Nat was out taking care of herself and her soul while I was handling the important stuff.

I got home early one Wednesday. Equipment issue on the line, sent us all home by eleven, which almost never happens. I figured Nat would be up, maybe watching something, and I could surprise her.

She wasn't home.

Bible study must have gone late... I bet that was just another glass of wine. Whatever. Jesus drank wine, after all, right?

I was beat, and in knew these hours weren't free. Probably be called in for a double tomorrow. I hit the pillow hard after snarfing a slice of banana bread.

I sort of heard her come in later. Had no idea what time. And I was almost out again when I heard the buzzing.

A low hum... The personal massager she keeps in her nightstand, the one her sister got her last Christmas. She'd said it was for Natalie's chronic stiff neck, but her brothers didn't quite buy that. But I know she has a stiff neck a lot, and I'm not really good at rubbing it out.

I hear it a lot when she can't sleep. I'm pretty good at sleeping through it. But I do buy her a new pillow to try every couple weeks. I mean, that overtime is good for something, right?

I was sort of half awake, and I could have said something or offered to rub her neck, but by her breathing she seemed to be doing ok.

She was on her belly, face in the pillow. I could see that much in the shadows. The hum changed pitch a little. And then she made a sound that might have been a word if it wasn't for the pillow between her teeth.

She does that sometimes when the knots in her shoulders finally give. Like a pressure valve.

I was glad she had that thing, honestly. I'm not sure what she does all day aside from all her church stuff, but a stiff neck sucks. I should try that thing myself sometime.

I could feel the mattress start to shake. She must really be digging in with that thing.

I thought about the C-line intake sequence back at work. Thought about whether I should call Rick in the morning before his shift. My eyes closed for real.

I don't know how long she kept at it. I woke up once at two-something and it was quiet and Nat was asleep, and I lay there for a second in the dark feeling like something I couldn't name and then I put it down to the weird schedule tonight.

In the morning she was up before me making coffee and she smiled when I came down, her regular smile, that awkward one I'd loved since she'd watch me from the stone wall. I felt like I was doing okay. She had her people. She had her church nights. I had the overtime. And I'd get to the lawn this morning, right after I called Rick. And right before I knew they'd be calling me in.

Hello, darling.

Come in. Close the door behind you. Yes, that one. Good.

I’m going to tell you a story. It’s a very short story, and you may have read some of it before on this very subreddit, and I need you to be comfortable while I tell it. So go ahead and settle in. Whatever position you’re in right now: sitting, lying down, on your back in the dark with your phone six inches from your face. That’s fine. That’s perfect, actually.

Are you comfortable?

Good.

Now. I’m going to ask you something and I need you to be honest with me, because I can tell already, just from the way you came in here, just from the way you found this page, that you’re already a little bit...

Mmmm…

You know what you’re here for, don’t you... You dirty thing.

I can see it. That thing that’s starting to happen in your lap, the warmth, the weight of it. You can pretend you’re just studying this case study in Contemporary Manifestations of the Grailcock. I won’t tell anyone. But I know. And you know I know.

The Professor Knaque left me in charge of this manuscript for the afternoon while she’s at a conference and I am very much supposed to be checking it for typographical errors.

But Ive been on the same page for forty-five minutes.

Anyway. Let’s read it together

>Warmth.

>That was first. Before anything else. Before the pink light behind closed lids or the sound of breathing that wasn’t mine. Just warm. Warm and wet and close, like being held inside someone’s mouth, which, as it turned out...

>“...mmmmhh... ghhhmm... gooood morning, mr. cockie... are you wakey? Are you starting to wakey wake? I can feeeel you... I can feel you twitching... just a teensy little twitch, but I felt it, I felt it with my lips, oh yes I did...”

>Oh, that sound she makes. That little “mmmmhh.” Have you heard that sound before? Someone half-asleep with their mouth around something they love? It comes up from the chest, that sound. It’s completely involuntary.

Are you feeling that? In your lap, I mean. The shift. The heaviness.

Go ahead and adjust. I won’t look.

(I’m looking.)

I’m sitting at this desk in the Professor’s study and I’ve got my cardigan on because she keeps it cold in here, and I am reading this page for the fourth time and I have one hand flat on the manuscript and the other one has been under my skirt for the last twenty minutes and I would very much like you to know that you’re not alone in this.

Keep reading.

>Soft. Everything was soft. The sheets. The light. The small wet sounds coming from somewhere that was also everywhere. Something was resting on me. On all of me. Weight and light and warmth and a heat wetter than the rest, pressed down where the base of everything met the smooth new skin underneath.

“...oh, look at you... look at your big sleepy head all shiny and puffy... you’re still all warm from being under the blankie... mmmnhh... and you smell soooo good, you smell like sleep and skin and that yummy salty thing you do...”

God.

That yummy salty thing you do.

I want to tell you something. I’m thirty-four years old and I have a graduate degree and a publishing contract and I have been holding the top of my stockings against my thigh with one hand for the last fifteen minutes because if I let go I’m going to do something that will require a change of underwear on company premises.

Are you hard yet?

You can tell me. I’m not going to be shocked. I’m sitting here with a manuscript on my lap and my skirt around my hips and I’m not in any position to judge you.

I want you to do something for me. Just one small thing. Put your hand on it. Don’t do anything. Just put your hand there. Feel the weight of it through the fabric.

There. That’s it.

That’s what Mimi is doing right now. Just holding it. Just getting acquainted.

>I opened my eyes.

>Pink. So much pink. Pink walls with little daisy stickers peeling at the corners. Pink curtains with morning sun weaving through. A shelf above the bed crammed with nail polish bottles, hair clips, a snow globe with a unicorn in it, and a row of stuffed animals staring down with their button eyes like a jury of plush witnesses.

>And below all of that, between my legs, Mimi.

>Her face was a painting. Last night’s cum was dried on her, white streaks cracked and pulling at the skin from her hairline to her chin. One eyebrow was crusted stiff. A thick line had dried from the corner of her mouth down her jaw and flaked when she smiled. Her eyelashes on one side were still clumped together, and she blinked through them with the patient acceptance of someone who’d chosen this and would choose it again. Her hair was matted to her cheek on one side and sticking up on the other.

>She was the most ruined thing in a room full of stuffed animals and she looked completely at home and beautiful.

The most ruined thing in a room full of stuffed animals.

Take it out.

I’m serious. Whatever you’re wearing, push it down, pull it out, just free it. Let it rest in your hand in the air. Feel the temperature difference. Feel the weight of it.

That’s a good boy.

Now just hold it. Both hands if you need. Don’t stroke yet. I said don’t. I will tell you when.

Look what she does next.

>She was sitting on me. Sunk between my legs, her tiny body wedged down with her ass and her dripping pussy resting on the shaved skin of my balls, stretching them tight beneath her weight. I could feel everything. Every wet fold of her pressed against the smooth sac, the heat of her clit fat and swollen against the root, her wet already leaking down around the sides in slow warm lines. My shaft rose up between her thighs and against her stomach and she had both hands wrapped around it and there was still more above her fingers. The head sat flushed and swelling just below her chin. She could have rested her lips on it without leaning forward.

>In her left hand, wedged between her pinky and the shaft, she was holding a small stuffed rabbit with button eyes.

>“...hi... hi hi hi... there you are... okay so mr. cockie, this is Bun Bun. Bun Bun, this is mr. cockie. You two are going to be best friends, I just know it, because Bun Bun has been sleeping with me since I was six and mr. cockie is going to be sleeping with me forever so you might as well get acquainted...”

>She walked the rabbit up the shaft on its little felt feet, two steps, three steps, and booped its nose against the head of my cock.

>“...see? He likes you. And look, Bun Bun, look how big he is, he’s bigger than you, he’s bigger than all the animals on the shelf put together, and he’s so warm, feel how warm he is...”

>She pressed the rabbit’s face against the shaft and rubbed it back and forth gently.

Are you all hard now?

Of course you are. Look at that! Look at you….

You greedy thing.

I want you to do what Mimi is doing. Not the rabbit, unless you have one, which, no judgment, but the hands. Both hands wrapped around yourself and whatever’s still above your fingers, that’s yours to think about. Feel the skin sliding over what’s underneath. Feel how the surface moves and what doesn’t.

My jumper is on the floor. I tore it off about three paragraphs ago and I didn’t stop to pick it up.

My blouse is still on. Mostly. Two of the buttons are open at the top because I needed the air. My hand is between my thighs and I have been slowly, almost absent-mindedly, pressing two fingers against myself through my knickers for the past ten minutes and it has made an absolute embarrassment of them.

I am barely keeping it together.

But I need you to hear what she says next, because this is the part that undid me the first time and the second time and if you want to know the truth, this is why I’m still on this page.

>“...and look at you... look how long you are... you go all the way up past my belly button, mr. cockie. I’ve got both my little hands on you and there’s still more. There’s always more. You just keep going and going and I can barely get my fingers around you. And the veins, the big fat veins, I can feel them getting fatter, you’re waking up, aren’t you? I can feel the blood going into you, you’re getting so hard, oh my God you’re so hard, the skin is so tight but underneath it’s like iron, like there’s a pipe in there, a big hot iron pipe and the skin just slides over it, feel this, feel what happens when I squeeze...”

>Her fingers tightened. The skin of the shaft rolled over the rigid core beneath it and the veins pressed up between her fingers like ropes. She watched it happen with her mouth open, saliva pooling on her lower lip.

>“...ohhh, oh wow, you’re getting so big, your head is almost at my mouth now, I could just... I could just stick my tongue out and... mmlhm... there, I licked you, I licked your little eye, did you feel that? Did you feel mimi’s tongue on your little slit? There’s a tiny drop of the good stuff coming out, just a little bubble, just a little shiny bead, and it’s mine, mr. cockie, that’s mimi’s breakfast right there, that’s my first little sip of the day...”

Oh, you felt that. I saw you. That little full-body thing that happened just now.

The veins. The iron pipe with the skin sliding over it.

I pushed my knickers to the side thirty seconds ago. I’m just going to tell you that.

Stroke. One slow stroke, from the base all the way up. Feel the skin move over everything underneath. Don’t rush it. All the way up to the head and feel how tight it is there, how the skin fits tight over the swollen part.

That’s what she’s doing right now. That’s exactly what she’s feeling under her fingers.

Can I tell you how wet I am? Is that all right? I’m so wet that when I pushed my knickers aside the fabric was heavy with it and my fingers went in immediately, no resistance, just warm and slick and deep, and I made a sound that I’m glad the Professor wasn’t here to hear.

Keep stroking. Slow.

This next part. Oh. This next part…

Her hips rocked. Forward, then back. Her soaked pussy slid along the base of the shaft and the friction rolled the veins against her open lips and she gasped and her grip tightened and I felt it everywhere.

>“...oh... oh God... oh that’s... the veins, I can feel the veins with my... they’re so fat and they’re rolling against my... oh God, mr. cockie, I can feel you between my lips, not my mouth lips, my other down there lips, and you’re so hard, the skin is sliding over the hard part and the veins are bumping against my clitty and I’m so swollen down there, I’ve been swollen since yesterday, since the bathroom, since Maureen tied me around you and I watched you get so big and you promised me, Alex, you promised I could have the cummies again soon, you promised in the bathroom, I SAW you nod through the panties in your mouth and that means you promised and I want them, I want my cummies, I want my breakfast...”

She was grinding now. Her hips sliding forward and back, her dripping cunt painting the base of the shaft in long slick strokes, her swollen clit catching on the thick veins with each pass.

She’s been swollen since yesterday.

Do you know what that is? Do you know what it means to want something so badly, for so long, that your whole body just stays ready? Stays open? Stays wet? Or hard...

I know what that is.

I have three fingers inside myself right now and I want you to know that my legs are shaking and I still have seventeen pages left in this manuscript and I am never going to make it.

Faster. A little faster. Feel the wet at the top. Feel the slick of it under your palm as you pull down.

You dirty boy. You beautiful greedy dirty boy. Look at you reading this.

Are you close? You feel close. I can tell from here. From wherever here is. From this desk in this cold room with my skirt around my hips and my blouse open and my fingers buried in myself up to the knuckle.

Don’t come yet. I’m not done with you.

Listen to what she says next.

>“...oh fuck oh fuck, the veins, I can feel every single vein, they’re like little ropes and they’re rubbing right on my... mmmnnhh... and you’re so hard, you’re so so hard, I can’t even dent you with my fingers... and the skin just moves over it and it’s so slippery from my spit and your juice and my... my stuff... everything is so wet and slippery and your cock is like a pole between my legs and I’m just... I’m just sliding on it, I’m sliding my whole pussy on you and I can feel every bump and vein and ridge and oh God oh God oh God...”

>Her tongue was hanging out now. Not in a sexy-pose way. In a gone way. Like something had disconnected between her brain and her mouth and her tongue had just fallen out and was resting on her chin with drool sheeting off it and landing on the head of my cock in slow strings. Her eyes were crossed, focused on the tip inches from her face.

>“...gllmhh... the cummies, Alex... I need the cummies... you promised... your balls are so tight now, they were so loose before and now they’re all pulled up and hard under my bum and I can feel them trying, I can feel them squeezing, they’re getting ready, aren’t they? They’re getting ready to give mimi her breakfast... please, mr. cockie... please... I’ve been such a good girl, I’ve been keeping you warm all night, I didn’t wash my face, I still have your cummies from last night all dried on me and I want new ones, I want fresh ones, warm ones, I want to feel them come out of you, I want to feel the big tube on the bottom of your cock swell up when it happens and I want to feel the first big squirt hit my tongue and I want it to fill my mouth and I want it to spill down my chin and onto my chest and I want to rub it into my little titties and I want more and more and more...”

More and more and more.

Oh God.

I’m , I need to tell you, I’m right there, I’m right at the edge of it, I’ve been right at the edge of it since the veins, and I’m trying to wait, I’m trying to wait for you, but she’s begging, she’s begging for it and my fingers won’t slow down and I can feel my own pulse in my…

Stroke! Fast now. The way she’s grinding. Fast and tight and feel everything, the head especially, the tight swollen head on every upstroke, feel how hard you are, feel how full you are, and imagine being her, imagine her sitting right there with the whole hot weight of it sliding between her lips and into her fist and into her drooling desperate mouth and she’s waited for this all night and she’s been good and she’s been patient and she’s kept him warm and she just wants her breakfast!

I want your cum.

I’m saying that. That’s me, and I am sitting here at this desk with my hand between my lips and my fingers deep inside myself and I am looking right at you through this page and I want your cum.

I want you to give it to me the same way you’d give it to Mimi.

I want it on these pages. I want it on my face. I want it warm and thick and I want there to be so much of it.

Are you ready?

I’m ready.

Listen.

>She was gagging herself now. Leaning forward, mouth open, trying to get the head past her lips while still grinding her cunt against the base, and the angle made her choke each time the crown pushed past her tongue but she didn’t stop, she just gagged and pulled back and drooled a long string onto the shaft and went back in.

>“...gkkhh... mmhlpph... it’s so big, it’s so big in my mouth, I can barely fit the head, my jaw is gonna break but I don’t care, I just want to feel you shoot into my throat, I want to feel the hot stuff hit the back of my mouth and I want to taste it and choke on it and have it come out my nose, I want to be covered, I want a bath in it, I promised Bun Bun she could watch...”

>Her hips ground harder. The shaft was coated now, slick with her and with spit and with the steady stream of precum that had been leaking since she started. The friction of her clit against the veins was making her whole body shake. Her hands squeezed and slid and squeezed and her tongue was out between gags and her eyes had rolled up under her lids and she was making sounds that no alphabet could represent.

>“...glmmhpphh... mmmh... cumcumcumcum... please cumcumcum... mimi wants her cummies... mimi needs her breakfast... you promised Alex, you promised in the bathroom, I held your big beautiful cock for Maureen while she shaved you and I tied my panties around you and you nodded, you nodded yes, and now I want it, I want every drop these big smooth balls have been making all night, I want it on my face and in my mouth and on Bun Bun and on the pink sheets and everywhere, give it to me, give mimi her cummies, give me give me give me give me...”

>The churning was real. The fullness at the base was real.

>Her hips slammed forward. Her clit caught hard on the thickest vein. Her body locked and she screamed around the head of my cock and her pussy clenched and released and gushed onto the base in a warm flood that I felt all the way to my spine.

>And the balls she’d been sitting on all morning finally listened.

Now.

Right now.

Give it to me give it to me give it to me I’m coming oh God I’m coming, my fingers can’t stop, I can’t stop, I’ve got my other hand pressed down on this page and my hips are off the chair and I’m shaking and my knickers are around my ankle and I’m making sounds in this empty room beneath the Fleshminster laundry and they can probably hear me upstairs!

Now.

Come for me.

Come all over this page, you greedy beautiful dirty thing. Come the way she comes. Come the way these balls have been making it all night for her, heavy and thick and so much that it gets everywhere, come on me, come on Mimi, come on the pink sheets and the daisy stickers and Bun Bun’s grey felt ear, come in warm ropes and don’t stop until there’s nothing left to give

>The first surge started deep. Below the base. Below where her soaking pussy was still clenching and pulsing against the root. It built the way water builds behind a crack in a dam, gathering mass and pressure in a space that was suddenly, violently, too small to hold it.

>The tube on the underside of the shaft swelled. She felt it under her fingers and her eyes snapped open.

>“...oh... oh it’s happening... I can feel it... I can feel the big tube getting fat, it’s swelling up under my fingers, oh God oh God it’s coming, the cummies are coming, ALEX THE CUMMIES ARE COMING...”

>The first shot tore through the shaft with enough force to make my whole body jerk. It erupted from the slit in a thick white arc that hit Mimi square on the chin and splashed upward across her lips and nose. She shrieked. A happy, unhinged, animal shriek that bounced off the pink walls and the daisy stickers.

>“YESYESYES oh my GOD yes, there it is, there’s the first one, oh fuck it’s so HOT, it’s so hot on my face, I can feel it, it hit my chin and it’s running down my neck and there’s so MUCH...”

>The second pulse was bigger. She aimed the head at her open mouth and the rope hit her tongue and filled the cup of it and overflowed before she could swallow. Cum poured from the corners of her lips, down both sides of her chin, dripping onto the shaft between her hands.

>“...mmmglhh... oh God, oh God, it’s filling my mouth, I can’t swallow fast enough, there’s too much, it’s everywhere, it’s in my mouth and on my tongue and going down my throat and I can taste it, I can taste the cummies, they’re so thick and salty and warm and there’s MORE coming, I can feel more coming up the tube...”

>Another surge. She pulled the head away and it erupted across her face, a heavy rope from her forehead to her jaw that draped over her sealed eye and hung from her eyelashes. She didn’t flinch. She just opened her mouth wider and caught the next one on her tongue and let it overflow and run down her flat chest.

>“...look at me, Alex, look at me, I’m covered, it’s all over my face, new cummies on top of old cummies, I’m getting a fresh coat, I’m getting painted, oh fuck it keeps coming, how is there still more? Your balls were so full, they were so heavy and full all morning under my bum and now they’re pumping it all out and I can feel them jumping, I can feel them squeezing under me every time a big squirt comes out...”

Oh.

Oh.

I’m...

I’ve made an absolute wreck of these pages. There are fingerprints on the margin from my wet hand and there’s a smear across paragraph four that I’m going to have to explain to the Professor and I cannot feel my legs.

Are you there? Did you make it?

Of course you did. You wonderful filthy thing. You came all the way here just for this and you got every single drop.

Look what she does with the last of it.

>She wrapped both hands around the shaft and squeezed upward from the base and a thick stream oozed from the slit and ran over her fingers in a slow white curtain. She milked again. Squeezing the tube from bottom to top, working it out, her little fingers slippery and webbed with cum, the shaft still iron-hard beneath the sliding skin.

>“...mmmmhh... there’s more in there... I know there is... come on, mr. cockie, give mimi the rest, give me every drop, squeeze it all out of those big pretty balls, come on come on come on...”

>Another pulse. Weaker but still thick. She caught the tail of it with her tongue and pulled it into her mouth.

>“...yummy... so yummy... it’s so thick, it’s like glue, it’s sticking to everything, look at my hands...”

>She held them up. Her fingers were laced with white strings that stretched and sagged when she spread them apart. She giggled and licked between her index and middle finger where a thick web connected them.

>“...Bun Bun, look... look what mr. cockie made for mimi... look how much there is...”

>Bun Bun had fallen off my thigh at some point during the proceedings. He was lying on the pink sheet next to my hip with a splatter across his grey felt ear. One button eye pointed at the ceiling.

>She picked up the rabbit and pressed its cum-streaked ear against her cheek and nuzzled it.

>The shaft was still dripping. Slow now, lazy pulses. She caught each one on her fingertip and brought it to her mouth, patient, thorough, like she was collecting the last drops of honey from a jar. She milked the shaft one final time and a thick drop welled at the slit and she leaned forward and closed her lips over the head and sucked gently and swallowed and hummed and kept the head between her lips for a long time after there was nothing left.

>Then she let it slip from her mouth with a wet pop.

>She sat back. Her face was layered. Old dried cum beneath fresh wet streaks running in every direction. Her eyelashes glued shut on one side. Her lips coated and shining. Her little tongue circled them in a slow loop.

>She looked down at the shaft resting against her belly. Softening. She petted it with one sticky hand the way you’d stroke a cat after it fell asleep.

>“...good boy. Such a good boy. You gave mimi so much breakfast. So so much. Your balls are all empty now, I can feel them, they’re all soft and floppy under my bum again, all drained out, but that’s okay because they’ll fill back up, they always fill back up, they’re so good at making cummies and I’ll be right here when they’re ready again, I’ll always be right here...”

>She rested her cheek against the shaft. Nuzzled into it.

>“...Bun Bun and me... we’ll take care of you... we’ll keep you warm and safe and we’ll catch every drop... because that’s mimi’s job... mimi is the one who stays...”

>The morning light moved across the pink ceiling. The snow globe unicorn caught it and threw a tiny rainbow on the wall.

Mimi is the one who stays.

I need a moment.

No. I need more than a moment. I need a different cardigan because the one on the floor is somehow soaking, and I need to find where my knickers ended up and I need to fix my blouse before the Professor gets back from her conference and I need to write seventeen pages of editorial notes about a manuscript I have read four times without retaining a single piece of information useful to my professional duties.

But you.

You can stay.

You naughty, beautiful, greedy thing. You read every word, didn’t you. You came all the way here with me.

Here. Let me. Just...

There.

I wiped it off your chin. You’re welcome.

Come back soon.

Mimi will be here. Bun Bun will be here. I’ll be here, at this desk, on this page, in this cold study with the heating that doesn’t work properly, technically copy-editing, technically maintaining my scholarly remove.

We both know how that’s going to go.

Goodnight, darling.

Or good morning.

Whichever side of the dream you’re on.

— C. DeRoot, Asst. Publisher Fleshminster Academic Press [some pages now watermarked — ed.]