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inmydeepestdreams · 1 month
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After the last trip to the country home, my days got much, much busier.
I sat at my professor’s desk in the lecture hall, a collection of notes in front of me, while he lectured on about ancient civilizations. It was a full class, but it was a freshman level class, it fulfills a requirement for them so most do not care about the lecture. It annoyed Sara deeply to see the students of other majors scroll through their phones or start to doze off during discussions she finds deeply fascinating.
“Sara is going to hand back your latest quiz,” Dr. Weatherby prompted. Sara got up. As she stood, she felt her phone buzz in her pocket. She sighed.
Between her daddy, sawyer, and her homework duties, her days were filled to the brim. She glanced at Dr. Weatherby, she caught him stare at her ass in her tight jeans. She smiled and began passing back the quizzes. Most students did poorly. One girl, though, McKenna, seemed to have a knack for history. Sara considered recruiting her for the program, but thought it probably fruitless. Most students think it all incredibly boring.
After that morning class, she was forced to skip across campus to John’s office. The text from Sawyer was simple.
Anthro 10-11:15.
She learned that meant that John was lecturing for an hour and fifteen, and Sawyer would be waiting for her in his office.
He was. She had smiled politely to the other professors near John’s office and slid inside. The lamp on the desk was on but the overhead light was off. The blinds were closed, it was a grey, rainy day so the room was the same.
Sawyer was on her in an instant.
This was the deal she had made. She continued to service Dr. Weatherby for her place at this university, and she fucked Sawyer to keep her secret. She recognized that this was furthering what may be considered a high risk lifestyle, but she saw no other possibly route.
Plus, she enjoyed herself immensely.
“Cute shirt,” Sawyer said between forceful kisses. She kissed him back just as hungrily, tongue in his mouth, arms around his neck. “Take it off before I rip it to shreds.”
She liked fucking her daddy and fucking Sawyer for different reasons. Her daddy was a sweet man, cute in his older age. She liked that he was kinky, even if it often left her wanting, as it turned her on. She enjoyed the piss thing too, even though she was firm in her belief that it was his thing.
Sawyer was different, he was less developed in understanding his kinks. It was clear to Sara he had been having extremely boring sex up until she met him. It didn’t take her long to figure out what he liked.
She grabbed his hair forcefully, yanking it, his head snapped back. He stared at her, open-mouthed, heavy lidded with swollen lips. He was hot, okay? He was. It pissed her off greatly and she’d never admit it out loud, but god, when he was looking at her like that?
She released his hair to push him to his knees. He worked off her belt and opened her tight black jeans, pulling them down until they caught on her thighs. It was nearly impossible to get her legs spread, she managed a bit, but he didn’t seem to mind the difficulty. He shoved his face into her soaked pussy. She eyed the digital clock on a filing cabinet. They had a whole hour.
His tongue, god. Sara moaned, her back arching against the door. She pressed her fist into her mouth as he whimpered into her pussy. She heard him inhale.
“You’re so wet,” he remarked. She was perpetually wet and horny, more so now that she was having so much sex, nothing satisfied her, nothing was ever enough. His long tongue flicked her swollen clit. His plump lips wrapped around the little ball and suctioned.
She buried a hand in his adorably messy hair and moaned into her hand. He was gonna make her come-oh, oh god.
She sighed, then, to her shock, she felt her orgasm gush wetness out of her, onto his face and onto her pants.
Fuck. She was going to have to change.
“Holy fuck, Sara. That was…”
She could see her orgasm on his face. She pulled him off, he looked at her with open adoration, but outside this room, they would go back to visibly hating each other.
She licked wetness off his face. He whimpered, she could see the tent in his pants.
“So good for me, baby. Mommy’s gonna make you feel so much better.”
“Please?”
She led him backwards. John’s desk was mostly uncovered, there was enough space for Sawyer to lay back, she just hoped it could support her weight, and what she was about to do.
She freed his cock without stripping him. Beads of precome were sliding down the shaft. His legs hung over the side. She took off her tight jeans and stood with one leg on either side of his own, running her fingernails under his t-shirt.
His breath shuddered.
“Sara,” he whispered, begging.
Sara climbed on top. He grabbed her, trying to hold her steady as she got into a favorable position. She rested, his cock standing in front of her pussy, his come in her hair.
“You wanna come inside mommy, darling?”
She wrapped her hand around his cock. He let out a shaky breath and nodded.
“What, baby? You gotta tell me what you want.”
“I wanna-come inside mommy.”
Hearing him call her that pleased her.
She rode him, trying to keep them both quiet, plus she didn’t want To break johns desk. She had to go slow, but they had some time, anyway.
Sawyer came inside her, biting down on his hand as he did so, eyes squeezed shut as if in pain.
She climbed off and, as quickly as possible, pulled on her black jeans. She left Sawyer with a kiss on his cheek.
She had to go back to her dorm to change. She had an almost identical pair of black skinny jeans, so hopefully Dr. Weatherby wouldn’t notice.
She made his next class, it was smaller, she was a student in that one along with being the SI. She enjoyed the lecture immensely and smiled when she got one of Dr. Weatherby’s tricky questions right.
“Still my best student,” he said afterwards. She was stripped down to nothing in his office. He had her bent over his desk, her head pressed into the wood with his hand firmly. He slid a finger into her wetness. Yeah, she was still horny, after everything. “So smart, Sara.”
Sara whimpered. It was late, most people had vacated the classroom buildings by now. She wanted to ask him to call her smart again but didn’t, he could feel her pussy react to the praise.
He smacked his cock against her entrance, inviting her to come to his home on Sunday for a proper fucking (sex).
After Dr. Weatherby, she went to Sawyer’s place in town.
“Did you come from his place?” Sawyer asked when he opened his apartment door. His roommate was behind him playing video games on their massive TV.
She showered at Sawyer’s. He laid out some baby pink lingerie for her in the bathroom, along with a light pink satin robe.
She donned the lingerie, keeping the robe open as she walked past Sawyer’s roommate to get to Sawyers room, enjoying his eyes on her.
“You look beautiful,” he said, before pulling down the cups that covered her tits and burying his head in her chest.
She hugged him, enjoying his nibbles on her flesh. He was tenting his sweatpants.
To her surprise, she saw a black box behind them on the bed, a purple ribbon tied in a bow over it.
“More gifts?” She asked, pulling Sawyer’s dazed face out of her chest.
“Oh, uh, you don’t have to-“
Oh, but she was. She absolutely was. She crawled on the bed on her knees and went straight for the box.
“Oh baby,” she said when she took in its contents, her clit throbbing at the cute blush on his face.
Inside the box was a strap on, pink all the way through, from the straps to the plastic cock.
“Is this what you want? You want mommy to fuck you?”
He averted his gaze, clearly embarrassed. He couldn’t be too embarrassed, though, as he orchestrated the entire evening. There was a bottle of lube in the box too.
She left the contents in the box to crawl back over to him, cradling his face in her hands, she asked him again.
“If you want to,” he replied, not meeting her eyes.
“Baby, you have to tell me that you want it.”
He squirmed, his cock was leaking into his pants. She’s never fucked someone with a strap before, and she could tell he’s never been fucked. It would be a learning experience for the both of them. Awkward, but hopefully not awful.
“Want you to fuck me, please.” He mumbled.
“What was that?” Sara asked, titling his head back with a finger under his chin, forcing eye contact. Her heart raced, he sure was a pretty face.
“Please, please fuck me.”
“Aw, alright baby. Mommy will fuck you, make you feel real good.”
She pushed him down onto his back, quite certain he’d have to turn over in a minute. She’d miss his pretty face but knew his ass was just as gorgeous.
She quickly stripped down his pants, so fast his cock slapped against his abdomen. She laughed as she took in the stickiness, even the thought of getting fucked had him on the edge.
She stripped his shirt too. He took it all happily, not saying a word, whimpering slightly whenever she brushed his sensitive cock.
Just for fun, she slid it inside herself, just for a second, just to get nice and sticky again. You would think that multiple loads inside her pussy in one day would be exhausting to keep up with, but she loved it, truly.
He moaned, his eyebrows squeezed together. Aw, poor baby was confused. She bounced on his cock once, twice, before pulling off. If she was going to be pegging him on the regular, she was going to have to bring her own sex toys around for her sake.
She felt cold as his cock exited her, but as always, she was on the job, and this was about her. She was shocked that, in the bedroom, he let go of all his antagonism in favor of being the most submissive partner she’s ever had. Not that she’s had many. He was delicate and happy to take whatever she said, such as: turn over, and: spread your legs.
Mm, that ass was gorgeous. She slid down just to bite the left cheek.
He cried out, his head buried into his pillow. She smiled at the teeth makes, wishing she had a camera. He dragged his hips across the blanket, trying to get friction on his cock. She spanked him, right over the bite mark.
“Hey! Knock that off, baby, I’m the one pleasing you here.”
He whined but stopped.
“I need to hear it again, baby,” she said as she held the bottle of lube. “What do you want from me?”
“I want you to fuck me, with your-fuck me with your cock, mommy.”
Hysteria took hold, she clamped her lips shut. Hearing him call the strap her cock was both hilarious and sexy. She loved seeing him taken down several pegs.
“Okay, sweetie. Spread your legs further.”
She rubbed her fingers together as she squeezed out the lube, as it was quite cold, it felt a bit medical.
She eyed his hole, nerves briefly taking hold. She was inexperienced as hell, but god, was she willing. Her pussy was soaking into the bedspread, along with his cock, he’d have to wash everything.
She dove right in, fingering him gently, then firmly. He gasped as her index finger entered him. It was definitely uncharted territory, but the noises he was making…
“You gonna come before I can properly fuck you?” She teased, widening him with two fingers. She pushed just a little deeper-
“Oh, fuck!” Sawyer cried out, almost leaping off the bed. Wow, that was a reaction! She brushed the spot again, he shuddered violently, melting down into the bed, hugging the pillow he was drooling on.
“If you keep doing that, I’ll-“ he whined, she wondered what his roommate heard. “Fuck me, need you to fuck me.”
Yeah, she needed to fuck him. Bad.
She pulled out her fingers, she hoped she prepared him enough, she was uncertain, but he was babbling into the pillow, in a different galaxy altogether, she was going to come just from listening to him.
She donned the strap, it was easier than expected. She caught a glimpse of herself in his mirror, lingerie pulled down to reveal her tits, long pink cock between her legs. She felt powerful.
She pushed the head of the pink cock in. It had glitter in the mold, it was exactly what she would’ve picked out.
He gasped, then started to beg some more.
Sara was well aware he wasn’t gonna last, but that only made it hotter. She pushed in further, then further, feeling nothing herself but the soaking panties between her legs, and the electricity to her clit whenever he made a particularly delicious noise. She bottomed out, he was crying.
“Baby, you okay?”
“Fuck me, please.”
She pulled out and pushed back in again, and again. She repositioned her hips and snapped forward hard. He had managed to prop himself on his forearms but with that move, he fell forward again, crying out.
He lasted longer than she expected, but once she consistently hit that good spot, he was a goner. He came with loud ramblings of loving her, his mommy. His roommate had to hear it.
She waited a minute before pulling out, he was breathing heavily. He turned over as soon as she pulled out. He looked at her, wet cock hanging from between her legs. He was covered in his own come, it had painted up his body and onto the bed. It was a beautiful mess.
He couldn’t talk for several minutes, he just stared at her with surprise. She took off the plastic dick and held him close to her, her tits still out.
“Sara, you just fucked my brains out.”
She smiled at him.
The professors house on Sunday was nice, it was bookish, every corner was filled with papers and books, and ivy was growing up the outsides. It was raining slightly, frizzing her hair as she arrived, but he didn’t mind.
He pulled her in for a kiss immediately.
“Hi daddy,” she greeted, he smiled at her and patted her lightly on the ass.
For the first hour, they talked business. He poured her tea and offered a plate of cookies. They graded papers together.
Then, Dr. Weatherby got up from the desk in his study and came back with a large fake cock.
Twice in three days?
She wondered, but no, he was offering it to her and he went back his desk.
She spread open her legs.
“Daddy?”
“Panties,” he said, holding out his hand.
She raised her butt off the chair to take them off, she handed them to him balled up, a bit wet.
“Wet as always,” he commented. “Fill your cunt, you were getting distracted.”
She looked at the cock in her hands. It was realistic, with a mushroom head and veins.
She spread her legs further, her brown skirt pulled up to reveal her bare pussy. He watched as she inserted the tip, gasping as she slid in a little more, until it could stay in her without falling out. They stayed like that, the cock stuffed in her pussy while they spoke of homework questions.
Dr. Weatherby ordered, after several minutes of normal conversation, to fuck the dildo into herself while they worked.
She snaked a hand down, knowing he couldn’t see from his position behind the desk. No, he could see, but he could hear. The wet sounds of her pussy, her light whimpers as tears gathered in her eyes. She faltered in her speech, her arms shaking as she approached orgasm.
He watched her come, her hand gripping his wooden desk as she whined. She stopped moving, which he didn’t like.
“I didn’t tell you stop, did I?”
“Daddy-“
“Keep going.”
She whimpered and whined as she continued to fuck herself. Soon, she wasn’t capable of much help. She had to sit there for his entertainment as he continued to work silently, forcing her into her roll. She rolled her hips against her thrusts, coming again. Her second orgasm was weak, and she wouldn’t be able to manage a third, not like that.
But she had to keep going, and going, and going, until she was right on the edge but could not tumble over. She was crying, sweating, so horny it hurt. She was right there, but she couldn’t make herself come.
“Daddy, please.”
“What is it?”
“I need you, I need to come.”
“Youve already come a few times,” he reminded her.
“Please.”
“Well, what’s stopping you? You have your toy.”
“Need you, daddy. I need you to make come, please.”
He sighed.
“Very well,” he said like it was some great inconvenience. “Leave the dildo behind.”
He led her up the stairs to his bedroom. It was tidy, small. She climbed onto the bed.
“Take off your shirt.”
She did as she was told, throwing every layer but her bra onto the floor. She watched him slowly pull the belt off his jeans. She laid there in nothing but her skirt, bra, and frilly white socks.
He just looked at her for a minute, watching her shake.
“You’ve really worked yourself up.”
“Mm,” she replied, an embarrassing whimper.
“You get so sensitive, that’s what I like about you.”
He climbed onto the bed, spreading her legs open wide.
He swooped into to lick her lightly, a stripe through her folds up to her clit. He stood back up at once and began to strip.
She shifted her hips, that one motion from him sent sparks through her body.
His hard cock bobbed in front of him.
“You’ve had more orgasms that me, so I feel like I should make you wait until it’s even.”
She felt like crying. He laughed at the look on her face.
“But you have been so good for me, I’ll take care of you.”
He rubbed her clit with his fingers as he pushed his cock inside her.
Bliss, oh my god. Her clit was swollen and begging for abuse.
He thrust into her, rubbing her firmly as she shook underneath him. Missionary, weak thrusts, it shouldn’t feel so good but it does, my god it does.
“Daddy!” Sara cried, her vision whiting out as her orgasm racked her, shaking her on the bed.
He pulled out and came on her skirt, her bra, which she still wore. He fell beside her. She was pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to go again, though he did come fast.
“Stay the night,” he said. She smiled at him and leaned in for a kiss.
She was on the clock 24/7, and she was happier for it.
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inmydeepestdreams · 2 months
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Getting dragged to a frat party in his final year of college was not part of Brett’s plan.
“Please,” his best friend begged. “I haven’t been to one since sophomore year, and I need to get laid. All the guys in this frat are tens.”
“Ten thousand red flags,” he told her. Liza rolled her eyes.
“Come on, I’m sure there’s some queer members.”
Like that would entice an anti-party guy like Brett. Brett was about to graduate with honors because he stayed in. Granted, this has limited his undergrad experience, but he’s willing to make that sacrifice for the sake of a good masters program.
He was only human, though. And Liza really wanted to get some after her last breakup.
After they arrived at the party, however, it was quite clear Liza did not need Brett as a wingman. Brett desperately wanted to go home, but he knew Liza wasn’t safe in a situation like this.
The beer was cheap, he drank it quickly. He leaned against a wall, next to a makeout couch as Liza let some random guy grab her hips to dance.
Buddy system, be a good friend.
He could only be so good, in his misery, he took advantage of the free liquor.
He witnessed some meatheads attempt a keg stand. In the kitchen, to his surprise, was his crush.
It was embarrassing and childish to use the word “crush” at Brett’s grown age, but he couldn’t think of a better description. He shared multiple classes with this guy Steve. Brett was pretty sure he was on the baseball team. He was one of the only student athletes that didn’t seem arrogant and obnoxious, and he was smoking hot.
Brett promptly left the kitchen. He didn’t see Steve for the rest of the night.
He found himself discussing the last exam of a dickish professor with a girl from the class, Dee. Dee was touching Brett’s arm in a way that made him nervously out himself to her.
The conversation ended not long after that. Liza was now on the make out couch with her hands full. Brett couldn’t believe he fell for it, he knew she could handle herself.
He got another beer, drank it in the kitchen, and got too more.
All at once, he realized his bladder was full. Like, get to a bathroom right now, full. The ache in his abdomen made pee rush south, he clamped his legs together, stumbling, uneven. The alcohol hit him at the same time, and he had no idea where the bathroom was in this house.
He wretched open a closet door downstairs to reveal a girl on her knees. Oh god.
He wanted to grab his cock so bad. It hurt.
He was suddenly afraid he wasn’t gonna make it. He couldn’t be the guy that pissed himself at a party, he’d never live the shame down.
He passed by Liza again, she was kissing someone else now, she didn’t even look up from the girls neck. Whatever, she couldn’t help. He wobbled to the stairs, looking completely conspicuous. He could handle looking desperate, but he could not handle leaving here with stained pants.
His pants were black, but if a light shone on them, he’d be done for. He couldn’t risk it.
His shoulder bumped the wall as he slowly made his way upstairs, passing a girl dry heaving into a trash can.
Upstairs was filled with creaking bed frames and weed smoke. The first door he opened was an empty bedroom. The second was an occupied bedroom. The third, blissfully, was a bathroom.
Occupied.
Steve was in there, wearing nothing but his tiny shorts. He lost his shirt somewhere and his shorts were obscenely short, like something from the 1980s. He recalled there was a theme for this party he fully ignored, he didn’t know what it was.
Steve wasn’t using the bathroom, he was leaning against the sink, scrolling on his phone. Brett straightened up immediately as Steve looked at him, maybe for the first time.
“Oh, brett, right?”
Okay, wow. Brett’s heart fluttered. Not for the first time, then.
“Yeah.”
“Yeah, your presentation last week was great. You were the only one with an interesting topic. Arctic exploration, right?”
“Yeah, all the failed attempts.”
Brett leaned against the door frame, pretending he hadn’t opened the door to the bathroom with an obvious motive. His bladder was still dangerously full, but he could hold it, for Steve.
“Right, so much better than the other shit everyone did. Boring.”
“Yeah, did you, do yours?” Brett couldn’t remember. He cleared his throat and subtly pressed his legs together.
“No, I had a game. I’m doing it Wednesday.”
“Whats it about?”
“Its about, oh, hey, just come in.”
He realized that the bathroom, like the rest of the top floor, smelled heavily of weed. Steve had an ashtray and a mostly gone joint beside him.
Brett came in and shut the door. Steve took a drag, he watched his lips part as he blew out a cloud of smoke, offering Brett the weed.
Brett took it, he had to seem cool, though he hasn’t smoked in years.
He didn’t think until he felt it in his throat. He started coughing violently, eyes watering, pissing-
PISSING?
The front of Brett’s pants were warm. He kept coughing, his thighs together. Steve took the joint from him and started smacking Brett on the back, laughing. Brett, somehow, got himself under control.
It was dark in the bathroom, the only lighting were the purple bulbs over the mirror. He was okay. Steve wouldn’t notice unless it got bright in there. And it wouldn’t. The weed would mask the smell.
Brett listened attentively as Steve told him about his project. He was smart, articulate. This did not help Brett’s crush on the man. If he was another idiot jock, then fine, he wants his body. But no, he was cool, and he worked hard, and he was so damn hot-
“So, I’ve never really seen you at these things.” Steve said, the weed was gone, and they ran out of conversation about class. Brett’s little accident had temporarily provided him with relief. Not anymore, now that he’s started, his body wanted to let it all out.
“Yeah, my friend wanted to come. Not my scene.”
“Yeah, I don’t go to many either. Guys from the team dragged me.”
Brett nodded. Steve was great at eye contact, that’s why he noticed when his eyes dropped lower, to his lips, and lower still, to Brett’s exposed collarbone.
“So, I’ve noticed you, in class.”
“Oh?” Brett’s heart was beating so hard. His bladder was so so full, his head was hazy, and he wanted to jump this man’s bones. He was experiencing way too many things at once.
“Yeah, you know. Noticed. Noticed you noticing me.”
Oh.
“Oh. I’m sorry,”
“Nah, it’s just…”
Steve ran a hand through his perfect hair. He bit his lip and reached out.
His fingers snagged Brett’s belt loops, and suddenly, they were chest to chest, leg between leg.
The wet spot, the wet spot, oh god-
He could feel the outline of Steve’s cock through this little shorts as they breathed the same air.
Steve kissed him tentatively. Brett kissed back, he couldn’t miss out on this opportunity, even if Steve did find out he wet his pants.
Brett touched his chest, he was muscular but not so much that it was excessive, and he was covered in chest hair. Broad shoulders, wide smiles, he was so-
“Hey, so,” Brett said. Sabotaging himself. He was about to wet his pants. His bladder throbbed painfully. He was drunk, high, but even then he knew better. “I sorta came in here for a reason.”
Steve smirked, thinking he meant him. And yea, but also no.
“Oh,” Steve said, glancing down at the toilet. “You have to pee?”
Brett bit his lip and nodded, not stepping from between this man’s legs.
“I thought your pants felt damp. I thought it was my imagination. Did you already wet yourself?”
Brett’s face was hot. He was going to step away but Brett had him by the belt loops again.
“Did you wet yourself while we were talking? What, too afraid to tell me to leave?”
Brett ducked his head, biting back a whimper.
“Or did you just want to talk to me that bad.”
Brett couldn’t look at him, he was blushing all over but Steve wouldn’t be able to tell in the purple lighting.
Steve took one hand away to remove Brett’s glasses. Brett watched him tuck them safely on the sink top.
“You still have to pee?”
“Yeah,” Brett breathed. He needed it desperately. The problem was, now his dick was hard, as was Steve’s, and they were pressed against each other this entire conversation.
“Fuck,” Steve pulled Brett closer, pressing a kiss on his forehead. He moaned as their dicks rubbed together. “Thats kinda hot.”
“Wh-what?”
“You had to pee but you held it that entire time. Except when you pissed yourself.”
“I really have to go, Steve.”
“Fuck, say my name again.”
Brett was suddenly shy. Steve grinded forward. Holy fuck, his piss was right there, right on the edge. Brett reach down to grab himself over his jeans.
“Steve,” he warned, gripping his dick firmly, knuckles brushing against Steve’s erection.
“Will you do it? Will you pee yourself?”
He pulled Brett’s hips forward again.
“No, I-“
“Right here, like this?” Steve was sounding increasingly worked up as he forced their bodies to come together.
“On you?”
“Yeah, just like this baby.”
Baby
Oh, he’d do anything for a crushes kinks.
Brett took his hand away and held onto Steve’s waist.
“It hurts.” Steve pressed a large, firm hand on Brett’s bladder and pushed. Brett moaned, throwing his head back.
“Aw, that must feel so good. Pee yourself, Brett.”
Brett was. Warmth exploded over the front of his jeans. He gasped. As soon as Steve felt it, he pulled their bodies together, sort of hugging Brett as he rolled his hips against Brett’s pissing cock.
He could hear it spraying out, pattering onto the tiled floor. It was so loud, so much.
“Fuck,” Steve moaned, humping against him, biting lightly at Brett’s neck. “Fuck this is so hot, baby.”
Brett thought he’d do anything hear Steve call him baby again. And he had to admit. It was hot, extremely hot.
Even in this shitty lighting, he could see Steve’s shorts had soaked. They were much lighter, much more obvious. It looked like he wet himself.
What Brett was really focused on was the large tent at the front of the shorts.
Brett reached into his shorts before he was even done pissing, freeing his cock, he pulled it closer so he could feel the stream run down Brett’s pants.
“Fuck, that’s so good,” Steve was a puddle, he had completely fallen apart, he was so turned on. God, it was hot to see.
Brett rubbed Steve’s cock over the soaked material.
“Oh, oh, Brett, fuck!” Steve was coming, Brett watched his come shoot onto Brett’s black pants. Soaked in pee and come, Brett knew he would never come back from this interaction. He hardly cared.
Steve hardly wasted time catching his breath. Brett had only just finished wetting his pants when he pushed Brett back, back, until he hit the wall.
Brett watched Steve kneel, his bare knees submerged in Brett’s piss puddle. He quickly opened his soaked jeans and pulled out Brett’s cock.
“Will you fuck my face?”
Brett was coming to understand that Steve was the kind of person who enjoyed being ruined during sex. Brett’s dick twitched in Steve’s hand.
Brett grabbed hold of Steve’s beautiful hair and pulled, doing exactly what he asked of him.
Steve’s mouth was warm and perfect, and if Brett wasn’t so worked up from his crush coming on him, he’d try and make it last longer.
He pushed forward, until Steve gagged. He pulled back and did it again. Steve hugged his Legs and allowed Brett total control.
His perfect plush lips, his beautiful mouth-
Brett came, crying out as he emptied down the other man’s throat. Steve whined as he sucked, drinking it all in.
Who knew this jock was such a cock whore? It took Steve a second to stand, but when he did, he pressed a kiss to Brett’s mouth and leaned against the wall to recover.
Brett looked at them in the mirror, they both looked totally fucked out and covered in piss. He had no idea how they’d get out of there.
“Come home with me?” Steve asked.
“How are we going to leave?”
Their crotches were soaked, Steve may have been half hard again. There was piss down Brett’s legs and come staining on the outside of his black jeans. He was pretty sure had a hickey too.
Meanwhile, Steve looked like he had been mouth fucked. His lips were swollen, his hair was sticking up everywhere, and there was a bit of come on his cheek. Brett didn’t wipe it away, he liked looking at it.
Also, brett kinda had to pee again.
Steve grabbed Brett’s hand. The key was speed. He pulled brett along quickly, before anyone could get a good luck at either of them. Someone called out to Steve, asking where he went, but Steve ignored him in favor of getting them out the back door, and finally, to Steve’s car.
Steve put his hand on Brett’s wet thigh as they drove. Just to turn the man on, he wiggled slightly in his seat and moaned lightly to himself.
Steve smiled, picked up the water bottle in the cup holder, and offered it to him without a word.
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inmydeepestdreams · 3 months
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I was ages away from my home planet, but I’ve been traveling for over a decade and I’m comfortable everywhere.
That arrogance is what got me into this situation. I traveled to a Z planet, in an outer ring of a remarkable water planet. A Z planet is small, an afterthought really, not given complete planetary status in the stars.
It didn’t have an official name. The locals called it something, but in the reading I’ve done, it’s just referred to as an extremely green Z planet.
It was lovely, really. I landed in a village and spent several days taking in the wonderful natural beauty. I had read that, at the most, there were outlying groups of people living deep in the woods, but as long as I avoided the woods, the planet was perfectly safe.
But then, there was this guy. This fucking guy, tried to steal my transport. And my dumbass got angry quickly, and well, that’s how I found myself chased out of the village but the guy and his entire household. And it wasn’t even my fault! He tried to steal my transport! Fucking asshole.
They chased me as far as a few yards into the woods before turning back, yelling that if I try and leave the woods they’ll kill me. Stuck deep in the woods without my way out, I kicked at a deep red log, angry, wondering what kind of tree that came from. I never even got to finish my drink!
This wasn’t the worst predicament I’ve found myself in, I travel too much for that. I began to wonder around in the woods, looking for a way to get around the pack of assholes guarding the tree line so I can get back to my way off the damn rock.
As I stumbled, I took in the gorgeous forestry, it was lush but not dangerous, gazing at the light purple mist over red and green growth on the ground, I began to think the things I’d heard about the forest people were myth to protect the nature.
That was, until I walked around a large, twisting tree to see a bare chested man not an arms length ahead of me.
He was taller, taller than the people from my home planet but not the tallest I’ve encountered in my time. Still, if I wanted to punch him in the face, I’d have to really put my knees into a jump. He was naked except for a deep red skirt around his waist and a long brown leather strap around his neck. The cloth had what appeared to be leaves pressed into the material. His eyes glittered brown with red flecks I found immediately interesting.
“Why have you come to our home?” He asked. To my surprise, upon looking at the cloth covering him again, I noticed quite a large bulge. I figured, because of the fabric, he was covering genitals, as I’ve only met people who only wear these things to cover private areas, but it felt a bit taboo for me to see that he had a penis, or something similar to a penis, and it was noticeably erect.
I really should’ve done some more research before coming to this plant.
“Um, some assholes chased me into here. I’m from like, a whole different galaxy,” I waved my hands, nervous as I saw the skirt start to tent, it was just getting bigger somehow, I tried to keep my eyes trained on his. “They tried to steal my transport. I don’t want any trouble, I just want to go home.”
“The villagers often engage in cruelty with visitors, as there are no laws in place to protect those not from our planet.”
“Definitely didn’t know that before I came here.”
Ok, don’t look at his hard cock. Don’t look at it. Look at his, um, his perfectly plush deep purple lips, they were shiny with what I assumed to be cosmetics but what the hell do I know really. Okay don’t look at his lips or his cock, what about his broad shoulders with the gold markings that I’d love to trace with my finger?
Fuck.
“They’re waiting for me, I’m not sure how I can get back.”
“We can get you back.”
“Oh, that would be wonderful, thank you-“
“We will walk you right back to your transport. On one condition.”
“Condition?”
“You must stay the night in our camp, stay with us all.”
With us all.
I felt a shiver run straight through me. His cock bobbed under his clothes, I really wanted to see it.
“Or, you can continue to wander, maybe you find your own way out.”
“No, that’s okay, I’ll go with you, I’ll take your way.”
“Excellent, come now, please.”
When I approached him, he held my hand and excitedly pulled me deeper into the woods. I could do nothing but follow him, at his whim, hoping this would just be another adventure I can boast on a planet far from here.
He led me to a clear of a large settlement, the homes were tall and thin and made of stone but everyone appeared to be out of them, mingling The red sun in the sky began to purple, there was a large fire lit in the center. These were a people I could not tell the sex of, they were all dressed similarly to the person I was with but it was clear I was out of my element.
“Friends!” He called, getting everyone who gathered at the fires attention, “this is our new friend, they will be staying with us tonight, in exchange, we will offer them safe passage through the village to their ship.”
“Hi,” I smiled awkwardly and waved.
Before I knew it, I was being led up on a pedestal. It felt like a natural hill but under my feet it was solid like rock.
“You consent to an evening of sacrifice?” The person who led me there asked me, which instantly filled me with fear.
“Sacrifice? No! You told me you’d take me to my transport tomorrow!”
The person chuckled, unruffled by my anxiety.
“Sacrifice means different things in different worlds. Here, to gain favor for the gods, we will use your body. Your pleasure will entertain the elders and the gods alike, so we can prosper for the future.”
I looked at him, wary.
“What does it mean exactly.”
“It means that you will be restrained, and everyone who feels the need, typically those with appendages like mine, will come and touch you until you shake and cry, and it will happen all night and for some of tomorrow morning, and we will take you to your ship when the sun is not yet high in the sky.”
They’re going to fuck me, all of them.
“Hell yes, I consent.”
It’s been a long time since I’ve had good sex, almost eight years since my last time with more than five people at a time. I liked to be aggressive during, so the restraints were a bit disappointing, but I wasn’t passing up multiple orgasms, nor was I gonna pass up seeing what he’s hiding between their legs.
The ground shifted, and to my surprise, a tall, plush looking platform raised to my level. It was red, green, and yellow, it reminded me of moss, but I couldn’t make a direct comparison.
“The traveler has consented, the sacrifice will begin with our eldest friend.”
Oh, an old person. Well. Why not, when on planet Z, right?
I felt the original person’s strong hand on my back, forcing me forward until I was bent over in an extremely compromising position, the mossy platform landed just below my breasts, which I was grateful for, as it would he uncomfortable had they been squished.
Another young person came to the platform, short hair in the color of the seas of my planet with breasts that hang free of any fabric, the skirt between their legs tented like so many others.
This person, with the breasts so pretty I could hardly look away, ripped my beige shirt down until I was completely exposed. My own breasts were much smaller by comparison, sitting atop the platform with noticibly hard nipples. They smiled and gripped one, pulling hard, hard enough for me to gasp.
Behind me, it was clear they were growing tired of my layers. A short green skirt over what I consider to be the best pants to get work done in. I wasn’t dressed for fashion, not that day and rarely ever. My light brown, extremely loose, pants had paint stains on them from some work I did off planet.
My skirt was flipped up and my belt was torn off. The person who exposed my tits began to massage my scalp, their long nails in my hair, scratching my head felt so soothing I felt my head droop.
My belt fell from the platform, but I hardly noticed as I relaxed forward, focusing only on the hand in my hair and the warmth of the fire.
My pants were yanked down, and then I remembered, to my horror, what I was wearing under them.
Okay, don’t judge me. Please. It’s just. I find these underwear from early earth, a planet long gone, to be kind of sexy. And when I know I’m going to touch myself later, putting them on arouses me. I get a thrill wearing them under my clothes, how was I supposed to know I’d end up the center of a sexual sacrifice.
They were pink and lacy, I stole them from a shop on Mars 367, they specialized in earthly objects. They wear cheaply made. Baby pink with light blue lace trim, the pattern was white polka dots. I was wet early just thinking of wearing them, of the humiliation of someone finding out what I was doing. Now everyone knew, everyone saw it, my cheeks burned as a few people laughed at me, pants around my ankles, clothes that seemed extremely foreign to them soaked through with my want.
The person behind me began to massage my ass, not unlike the hands in my hair. I felt myself grow needier and needier, until I was rolling my hips forward into nothing at all. My nipples rubbed against my arms, which were now tied to the platform. My pants and shoes were removed altogether but the panties were still on.
Shockingly, as the hands kneaded my ass and the fingernails scraped my scalp, I felt myself plummet towards orgasm. My mouth fell open in a silent cry as I gushed into my already destroyed panties, a wet spot appearing suddenly up my ass as my orgasm made itself known to general public.
Someone banged a drum, everyone cheered. I opened my eyes to gaze at the person massaging my brain to mush, they looked eager, beautiful, excited. I wanted to kiss them but of course, couldn’t move.
Fingers danced along my wet panties, I heard a low, deep chuckle behind me.
“What is the meaning behind these clothes?” They asked, voice so deep it rumbled through my body. I was still so horny it hurt and I wondered when the fucking would begin.
“M-meaning? No meaning, I just like to wear them.”
“Why?” I was asked by someone else, someone in the crowd very close to me. I looked at them with glazed over eyes.
“Makes me feel sexy,” I answered honestly, surprised at how loose my tongue was, “turns me on.”
“They bring you pleasure, we will keep them on, for now, and just pull them out of the way when necessary.”
With that, I felt the biggest cock I’ve ever felt in my life slap against my covered pussy.
I jolted, surprised, I could feel it stick to my panties, wet with my come and what I can only imagine to be their leaking come. They’d be ruined forever. I was gonna frame these underwear.
The stranger rubbed their cock, or what did they call it? Appendage? Against my clothed pussy, driving me absolutely wild. The tip pushed upwards, just barely grazing my clothed cock, sending sparks down my spine.
My frustration grew as they continued only to rub, no one seemed to be in any sort of hurry, but I needed to come again, i needed it bad, I needed it more than anything.
“Fuck-fucking get inside me.”
“You aren’t in charge here,” said the person who was giving me a scalp massage. Now they’re rubbing my temples, my head against their ample chest.
God, their hands on my head felt good. What could they possibly be doing to me?
Behind me, the strangers hand widened my legs for me, I felt a warm breeze come from the south, it was a lovely evening in unfamiliar territory, I have never been taken apart like this, I have never orgasmed hands free.
The stranger began to play with my cock over the panties, my hips stuttered forward as I let out an embarrassing mewl. I’m not like this-submissive-noisy. I’m stoic, collected. They were turning me into something else entirely.
Their hands slipped under the tight fabric of my panties, I felt the pad of a thumb swipe over my little dick.
The person rearranging my brain disappeared suddenly, the person behind me continued rubbing absently at my most sensitive areas, but they grabbed me by my hair and forced my gaze up, forward, to a smiling crowd, one person was holding a mirror to me.
I saw my tits sitting atop the platform, hard nipples begging to be sucked on. I saw glimpses of the enormous figure behind me, but most of all, I saw my mouth fall open and my face screw up embarrassingly as my second orgasm racked my body.
They banged the drum again.
“You’re easy to pleasure, this will be an enjoyable night,” said the most familiar stranger, the one that is probably their leader.
After that, I came again, shaking, just from the scalp massage. This person seemed to unlock some special, pleasurable sector of my brain, it’s like my mind came along with my body. Again, the drum.
I didn’t feel a cock enter my hole probably an hour into the night, which was surprising, considering I was the toy for everyone to enjoy, and there were plenty of faces in the crowd to please.
The person tapped their cock against my wet underwear, I heard them giggle.
The other person was holding the mirror again, I looked back to see the person that would fuck me, long black hair with gold woven through, bare tits accentuated by gold chains. My mouth watered as I gazed at their hard nipples, when they stood up straighter, I could just barely glimpse at the appendage I’ve been calling their cock.
The mirror was taken away. The massager returned, I pushed forward, resting my head on their chest.
My panties, for the first time that night, were pulled all the day down, I could feel the cold wetness at my ankles. A warm wind blew my skirt, tickling my bare skin, the persons cock teased against my wet hole.
Their hand found my one sensitive dick as they plunged into me, laughing as I sucked them in. Everyone in the crowd hummed approvingly. With fingers flicking over my cock, and their own pumping inside me, I began to wonder if these people would take me in permanently. I wouldn’t be opposed.
By this point, you’d think I was getting tired. The opposite was occurring. With every touch, every orgasm, I was growing more and more desperate. Every bit of pleasure was not enough, I felt as though they were weak, and I needed something more, more, more!
Someone came in me, I felt their come fill me up and leak out, even before they pulled their cock out. These were a species of people that came a lot.
It took me about three hours into the night to realize it was their come making me feel this way. Every time I took a load I felt tingles all throughout my body, it took everything in me not to cry and beg for more. The scalp massage, the magic come, unskilled hands on my dick, anything.
Two people approached me from the front after the last person was finished, the scalp massager left me again, making me want to cry. One of the people had large, perky tits with nipples that had to have been painted bright pink. When my mouth found one, I understood this to be true, as I rolled the sensitive skin between my teeth.
They pulled me off their breast and stood closer, cradling my head against her soft chest. I wondered why I was being held this way, they were attempting to soothe me, it seemed, rubbing at my hair and saying what sounded like sweet things in their language.
My legs were wet from my orgasms and from the orgasms of others. For the first time that night I worried this was some sort of breeding ritual, and that id come away with offspring, but that’s something I could handle far away, on my own ship with medicine, so I quit wondering.
Someone bit into my left ass cheek.
My mouth fell open in shock, and a second later, they did it again.
This person moved, biting either as light as just a drag of the teeth to as hard as a bruise of the skin, until they moved lower, lower, and their tongue flitted over my hole.
I jerked forward, somehow surprised. The entire time, the audience was watching intently, thoroughly entertained and discussing the events as they unfolded.
Their tongue plunged into my hole, and that’s when I felt it. Ripples of pleasure rolled from my head to my toes. It was not unlike an orgasm but I could tell that difference. I realized that the paint that had been on the nipple i sucked had some sort of aphrodisiac quality, and my brain promptly shut off. I leaned heavily on the person cradling my head, mouth open, drooling, as the person fell even further and began to mouth at the base of my cock.
I was overwhelmed with pleasure, the crowd became a blur as I could only focus on my entire body and the sparkles of pleasure that erupted with every touch. Someone was sucking hard on my dick, I came as a cock found it’s way into my hole.
Then I was being fucked, hard, while the other person sucked me dry. My moans were loud and shocking, the crowd was especially revved up. The pleasure I felt was impossible, in that moment I was totally an object, something to be use, and I was deeply enjoying it.
I came again, and again, and at one point, I was coming so many times it seemed like the drum never stopped sounding. My orgasms sprayed around two cocks and pattered at my feet, oh. There were two cocks in me, no, three. I could hardly keep my eyes open, the hands were in my scalp again-
When it was over, it took me an hour and a half to have a halfway clear head again. The morning hour was celebrated and food was rolled out, there was dancing and cheering.
The person that tied me up came to free me. I immediately slumped to the floor and was picked up, their strong arm under my knees, I rested my head on their hard chest and noticed their equally hard appendage. Did they ever go down?
They carried me to a small room, I didn’t remember going through a door, but I guess I did. I was put in a soft, foamy bathtub, and three people began to rub sponges over my body.
The person sat with me and held my hand. When I felt slightly clearer, they asked me:
“Did you have fun?”
“Yes,” my voice was hoarse from crying out, I was given a drink that taste sweet, it was energizing. “I don’t want to leave.”
“You don’t have to, but I don’t think you mean that. Have more to drink and you’ll be in the right headspace to make decisions.”
“It was amazing, thank you.”
I drank and felt better by the end of my bath. My clothes were returned to me. Embarrassingly, the panties I wore were given back to me folded up in a woven bag.
“They are quite wet still,” the smiling person said. I felt a flutter in my chest and red on my cheeks as I took the stupid article of clothing.
I was escorted, as promised, back to my craft. Clean, bathed, and on slightly shaky legs, nearly the entire village came with me.
The town that had kicked me out gathered, the man who tried to steal my transport was promptly removed from where he was trying to break in. They all watched in shocked horror, I felt satisfaction in that moment.
“Can I come back?”
“You can stay,” said someone hopeful, an eager smile on their face.
“I can’t stay, I have things to do.”
They took this with a bit of disappointment, but seemed to understand. It was quite remarkable - I never felt unsafe the entire sacrifice.
“You are always welcome, you know your way now.”
I didn’t waste any time starting up my transport, and before long, I was hovering a few thousand miles above the planet, looking down, getting ready to plan my next visit.
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inmydeepestdreams · 4 months
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I’m not big on hiking, but I’ve decided I needed to spend more time with nature. Unfortunately, I couldn’t get any of my friends to try it out with me.
So that’s why I went to this state park, it boasted trails and waterfalls and easy paths. Sounds great, I can finally begin connecting with nature!
It’s July, I don’t have proper hiking gear, I’m wearing high waisted jeans shorts and a black and white striped tank top, my hair is in a bun, it’s just over eighty degrees out, but the trees provide some shade, and I have no doubt that it’ll be cool once I get to the waterfall.
Because of the heat, the trails are less active. However, I rarely get a moment on the “blackberry trail” without someone else being in front or behind me.
I’m sipping casually from my water bottle, the ice was holding on, making the drink that much more enticing. I really was not dressed for a hike, sneakers and casual clothes and a cross body crocheted water bottle holder, genius, really.
Whatever, I continued, sipping consistently from my bottle until, to my surprise, I felt my bladder start to warn me at the first waterfall.
It was a, according to a sign, the “small” falls of the trail, still, any conversation had beside it had to be shouted. A crowd had gathered nearby, five or six people, taking photos and staring at the natural beauty. The spray from the falls was glorious, I almost felt a chill on my skin.
To avoid that group of people I didn’t stick around that waterfall long, there were to be two more on the trail.
I kept drinking, ignoring my need. There were (no doubt disgusting) public bathrooms near the parking lot if need be. For now, I knew I had to stay absolutely hydrated, I didn’t want to get sick out here.
There was a bit of an incline. As I reached the top of the hill I pulled to the side of the trail and caught my breath, pulling stray hairs off my neck, I took a long pull of the water bottle, I could hear the next falls up ahead.
A man passed me, moving quickly up the trail all alone, seemingly unbothered by the hill. Fine, now I’m embarrassed. Whatever. I stowed my water and followed him, ignoring my filling bladder as it allowed me to feel the slosh of my piss waiting to be let out.
The next falls was just as glorious as the last. There were more people here, five getting a group photo, another five just hanging out, some taking a break on a bench, and the man that passed me.
For some reason, I looked at him twice. He appeared to just be a normal hiker, a man well equipped for the journey, unlike me.
I must have sensed something wrong, because when I really focused on him, he was grabbing himself, obscenely. His hand was clutching the outline of a cock, his legs were pressed together, and he was audibly whimpering.
Everyone was staring at him with disgust and horror. He could turn away, run off, but he stayed right there in that exact position. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing, I’d never seen anyone behave that way in public. My own bladder seemed to pound against my abdomen, maybe in an attempt to feel some pity for this man.
No one was saying anything. He had a single tear rolling down his cheek.
His red shorts began to darken. He gasped, whimpered, held on tighter. Another group stopped to take in the falls but immediately focused on the show the man was putting on. Humiliating, devastating, totally captivating.
Where the tip of his cock clearly laid, a large, baseball sized wet spot formed before the piss engaged with gravity and began flowing down, seeking land in the hem and then down his bare, hairy legs, before pattering onto his white sneakers and the ground.
He was still holding himself, and I was pretty sure he was hard, or slightly hard. Hell, I was turned on, for some reason, watching the whole thing. He didn’t move until the droplets stopped falling. A few people, when he was finished, awkwardly shouldered by him, continuing up the trail, side-stepping the puddle as they giggled to themselves.
The man sniffled and took his hand off his dick. He looked down for a long while, long enough for someone else to join and gaze at his soaked bottoms. There was no doubt he pissed in his clothes, god, that’s so embarrassing I couldn’t imagine.
He took off, instead of heading back down the trail, he continued to the next falls, speed walking as he went.
I went to, not bothering to look at this falls. The man moved swiftly, I found myself taking long strides, wanting to watch him go, I could see soaked stains on his inner thighs when his legs parted but most of the accident was visible on the front.
Then, as we came upon the final falls, he ducked into the woods besides the trail.
I paused, listening to the intense roar of a very large waterfall. People pushed towards me in both directions, it was a busy attraction.
I didn’t know what I was doing, but I looked around, the coast was absolutely not clear, and I was no dressed to go off trail, but I did anyway. I ducked into the tree line and followed the hikers path.
I found him easily, the deep red pants were easy to spot among green and brown. He wasn’t far from the trail, you could still hear the waterfall, but he couldn’t be spotted from the trails. However, one step into the forest would reveal him.
It would reveal him like this, sitting on a log, his pants open but not removed, and his hard, weeping clock being pumped furiously with a firm hand.
I stopped directly in front of him, arms crossed, shocked, excited, confused, horny.
He paused his movements for a second but when I didn’t say anything he continued to stroke his cock.
“You’re a pervert.” I landed on, he moaned but said nothing coherent.
“I kept wondering why you stayed in front of everyone, it makes sense now. You wanted as many people as possible to see what a pathetic freak you really are. That’s why you’re doing this now.”
“If im a freak, then so are you, I saw you looking.” His voice was ragged, he was quite handsome, sunglasses were pushed on top of his head, sweat beaded at his temples. I wouldn’t touch him, but I’d watch.
“Everyone looked, that’s what you wanted.”
He didn’t deny it, just continued to masturbate. He tipped his head back, he would come soon.
I didn’t really know what I was doing. All I knew was, I had to pee, quite urgently at this point, and the sound of the waterfall was making it worse. Also, I’m a whore, everyone kinda knows that. That’s why I’ve tried to become one with nature, take up a new hobby that’s not sex.
I approached him, stood in front of him, blocking the sun. He looked up, gazing at me, confused, his hand on his cock slowed down.
I opened my legs and stood over him, my feet planted on either side of the strange man, my clothed pussy hovering just over his cock.
“What-“
With my hands on my hips, I forced myself to piss into my shorts.
It came out of me easily, I did have accidents sometimes, so it wasn’t totally taboo for me. Never on purpose, though, and it never turned me on like this.
“Holy shit,” he leaned back, one hand gripping the base of his cock, he wasn’t stroking, just watching.
I looked down and watched my light denim shorts grow soaked in the centers and then spread up my ass before dripping straight out of me onto his cock.
“Holy fuck, holy fuck,” he moaned, watching with fascination. He put one hand right over my still wetting pussy, with the other, he tugged his dick harder, I wanted to ask him to come on me. I held myself back from touching him, if I didn’t touch him then I could only be, like, 10% a whore, right? But fuck, I wanted him to stain my shorts right along with him.
“Mm,” he moaned, and I thought he was coming on me, but no, a quick arc of piss sprayed out of his dick, landing right in the soaking area between my legs, he rubbed me over my shorts, I was still peeing, it was falling from between his fingers.
He pulled his hand away and pulled me closer so that my piss landed on his cock, cascading down and further ruining his short.
“So good, so fucking good,” he moaned. Brilliantly, just as I finished pissing, he came, shouting louder than the falls.
Only a drop got on my shorts before he pushed me away. I was sad, I watched as come spurted beautifully out of him and landed on the thighs of his shorts, that would be one incriminating stain.
Clarity hit me like a truck. I just voluntarily pissed in my shorts with a stranger in public. I needed to come, but I had to go. I could never see this man again, oh god, everyone was going to see me!
I ran back onto the trail and began speed walking towards the start. It was no use, of course, it was a beautiful sunny summer day, the trail was packed. I saw confused, then knowing looks go straight to my pussy, I couldn’t imagine the stares on my soaking wet ass, my panties clung uncomfortably. I couldn’t get off the trail without crying a little.
But, when I got back in my car, my shorts drying but still wet, I opened my legs and looked down at the wetness gathered there. My piss and a bit of the strangers come. My heart fluttered.
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inmydeepestdreams · 4 months
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Work had tried me that day.
I didn’t make a mistake, my coworker filed some paperwork wrong but my boss blamed it on me and yelled at me in front of everyone. It got so bad I almost considered quitting on the spot but then I remembered bills, and my girlfriends birthday was coming up, and so we’re the holidays.
So I took it.
I sat at my desk all day working trying to make up for a mistake that was not mine. To make it worse, the coworker who actually fucked up was smug as hell about it. To the point where I wanted to hit him. But then I remembered, mail is expensive, and I get paid just enough to live, really.
I worked through my break. The boss went home early, so I left promptly at five. As I stood, I became very away of my full bladder. I shoved my empty water bottle in my bag and made for the bathroom.
But that smug, asshole coworker went in just as I turned the corner. I stopped. It wasn’t a single bathroom, it’s not like I couldn’t use the urinal, but the thought of being near him anymore that day made me feel violent. So.
I went home. I had to pee bad enough that I was shifting in my seat. I played the radio to try and distract me. But now that I was free from that hellscape, I remembered how damn angry I was. At my coworker, at my boss.
The cherry on top of a horrible Friday came as soon as I walked in the door. My girlfriend, Bella, and my best friend Mitch were at our tiny kitchen table in our tiny kitchen in our tiny apartment. They were sitting together, drinking coffee. For a moment I thought maybe she had heard about my bad day and called over Mitch to try and cheer me up. My two favorite people should do it.
But no, I had been too busy all day to tell Bella about my day, and they were holding hands.
I dropped my messenger bag and put my keys on the hook by the door. I saw their hands.
“Gale, hey,” Bella said, releasing the hand of my best friend, a man I’ve known since college, to stand and face me.
“Whats this?”
We’re in love. She said. I love him. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to happen this way.
When did they even get the time to cheat?
I stood there and listened, feeling cool anger and hurt. I stared at the face of a woman I thought I’d marry, my best man sitting behind her, while she tells me she wants him instead of me.
“Why would you do this?” My voice is calm, my eyes begin to sting. I really don’t want to cry right now, but this day…fuck, don’t cry.
“We starting working together a few months ago. A short contract, but we got close, we starting meeting up. One thing led to another and-“
“And you fucked Mitch, my best friend.”
“Im sorry.”
I breathed in deeply.
“Id like you both to leave.”
“Gale-“
“Go stay with him, god knows I have nowhere to go now.”
She squared her shoulders and looked at my flatly.
“Thats it? That’s all you’re going to say?”
I stared at her in disbelief.
“What is it you want me to say?”
She scoffed and crossed her arms.
“You know, this is part of it. Your aloofness. You never cared for me.”
“Thats not true.”
“Mitch is kind, and loving.” Her voice was rising. He didn’t expect a fight. “He wants me, he cares about my needs.”
Mitch stood up to take up the spot beside my now ex girlfriend.
“Cmon, love, pack a bag.”
“Fuck you,” I snarled, but to my horror, my anger was fading into shame, shame that was brought forth by-
“Holy fuck.” She said, cutting off a surprised laugh.
“Dude.”
“Fuck you both, get out.” Tears started to spill over as I pissed my pants.
This was. Unexpected. And horrifying, and a moment I’ll never, ever live down.
“You know, this is also why,” she said, point to my legs, I didn’t move or grab myself because that seemed more humiliating than just wetting my pants and crying in front of my ex girlfriend and my ex best friend. “Youve always been a baby, Gale. Mitch can take care of me. You can’t even take care of yourself.”
She went towards our bedroom as I gasped, the piss rushing out of my felt amazing. Honestly, the relief was the highlight of my fucked up awful day. I continued to cry as I wet, Mitch looked away from me, up at the ceiling, we were both embarrassed as it flowed from the bottoms of my trousers and into a puddle at my feet.
“Did you do this on purpose, man? Try and get her to…pity you?”
I glared at my friend, knowing it wasn’t effective because of my soaking pants and my tear stained cheeks. She came out with a bag, wrinkled her nose at the puddle on the floor, took mitchs hand and left.
Leaving me there alone with my own sniffling and my rapidly cooling pants.
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inmydeepestdreams · 5 months
Text
My girlfriends and I have a game.
Mara, Rose, and Bailey stood in a line in front of me. I, not for the first time, wondered how I could get so lucky in love.
Mara was wearing just panties, cotton, pink, and a white crop top that said “baby” in pink letters. Her small tits stood to attention, nipples poking through white material. Her hands were both shoved in her crotch, her hair fell around her face unbrushed, in need of a wash but still pretty. She lowered her head on instinct, looking up at me with her wide, blue eyes.
Rose wasn’t so submissive. Well, she was, but she was bratty by nature. She was still dressed in her pajamas. My grey sweatpants (a threat, an act of defiance), and a blue t-shirt. Her hair was up, she had her arms crossed over her chest. She wouldn’t meet my eyes, the only indication that she had to go at all was her leg that wouldn’t stop bouncing.
Bailey was tearing up. So cute, really. Brown eyes welling over, it warmed my heart. Bailey was a begger, it made me so fucking wet when her plush mouth, perpetually bitten, opened to whine and beg. Her she was wearing one of those holiday onesies, one that was light green with lights (patterned) up the side. It was cute, it wasn’t the holiday season but still cute. She had her hood up and everything. Her legs were twisted around each other. I had an inkling that there was already a wet spot between her legs. While I usually would jump at the opportunity to embarrass them, I decided to leave it for now.
“Please, I’m more full than them-“
“No the fuck you’re not Bailey, you traitor,” Rose responded angrily. She was always testy when she was desperate. You would think that would mean she hates it, but it’s the opposite. When this part is over, she’ll be rabid, ripping the clothes off her girlfriends bodies for a taste.
“Please,” Bailey pleaded with me, blushing, a tear down her cheek. Aw, my poor baby. Begging doesn’t work here.
“Go on, then. Go find it. But remember, only one of you get to use the bathroom an hour.”
This was the start (or, the middle?) Of a long game in which I lock up the bathroom, hide the key, and force the girls on a hunt. Whoever finds it first gets to use the bathroom. The others must wait an hour while I hide the key again.
“Wont you give us a hint?” Mara asked, batting her lashes, trying to use sexuality to win me over as usual.
I said nothing and raised my eyebrows, reminding them the clock was ticking. Oh, if it wasn’t found in five minutes, they’d have to wait another hour.
It was taped to the bottom of the couch this time. We’ve played this game so much I’ve had to get creative. Rose especially was wise to all my tricks, checking in all previous spots.
As Bailey dug around in the shoe box by the front door, bouncing in place with her legs together, Mara and rose started to strike a deal.
“If I find it, I’ll give it to you, I can probably go another hour, let’s work together.”
I watched, entertained, as both women danced in place, pretending they had their bladders under control. Rose and Mara shook on it and got to work.
They tore apart the kitchen in thirty seconds, then the living room (not checking under the couch), then they left to do the bedroom.
Bailey entered the living room. She got down on her hands and knees to look under the sofa just as the timer went off.
“Alright ladies, that’s time!”
Rose swore audibly from the bedroom.
I smiled, another hour, then. If they can manage to keep dry.
Against all odds, however, they did manage.
More or less.
Mara’s cute, lightly colored panties had a little wet spot between her legs, but you can’t see it, both hands are always there, gripping with all their might.
Rose was still dry. At least, the sweatpants were dry. She was jiggling in place. Full jiggling, bouncing on her heels, her entire body trembling. Her fists were clenched firmly at her sides, unwilling to put pressure where she needed it most.
Almost the entire hour, Bailey played with herself and pretend like she was doing it. She sat on her knees, the heel of her palm pressed against her. She grinded against it, teeth clenched, as her girlfriends called her a cheater and made fun of her. She insisted it didn’t feel good and she wasn’t enjoying it, but sometimes her breath would hitch in a way that reminded me of our bedroom activities.
Besides. They all liked it, that’s why we did it.
I knew the three of them couldn’t manage another hour. I was surprised they did it at all. This challenge would end in at least two pee puddles, maybe three, if the key wasn’t found.
“Go,” I said, starting the timer. Rose and Mara were still teaming up, then, even if they were equally worse off. They went back to the bedroom.
I watched Bailey stand in the middle of the living room, one hand shoving her onesie against her no doubt dripping pussy, the other with her hand on her head, pushing brown bangs away from her sweating forehead. She was at the brink. I loved watching her hold it. She was so expressive, desperation was evident in every panicked movement.
“Please. I’m gonna pee myself.”
“I know.” I said, eager.
“You’re a monster.”
“You like it.”
She blushed and looked away.
Her thighs shook as she looked around, hoping, apparently, it was hiding in plain sight.
Until she seemed to remember what she had been doing an hour ago. With twenty seconds on the timer, she dropped to her knees, moaning as she bent down, no doubt putting pressure on her bladder. She threw herself flat against the floor.
“Ha!” I heard tape ripping. “Thank god, oh, thank god. Oh no! Oh no!”
Bailey sprang up, key in hand. The others came out of the bedroom, hearing the commotion.
There was a stripe of wetness on the green onesie and another rapidly darkening. One hand held her crotch, the other the key.
“Better hurry, love.”
She whined and took off, almost knocking down our girlfriends as she passed them to get to the bathroom.
We all gathered to watch her fumble with the key, actively having an accident.
“We should get another turn,” Rose argued through gritted teeth. “Please. She’s already peeing in her pants.”
Bailey got the door open. The next issue was the onesie. She was actively peeing as she dropped the key and yanked the zipper. She tried to get it down as fast as she possibly could, but she had to pull her arms down and shimmy it over her hips-
Her accident was half over by the time she sat on the toilet, relief evident in her sigh and the relaxed look on her face. She had been wearing panties, polka dot ones, and she hadn’t bothered to take them off before she sat down. Piss filled them as it streamed out of her, the splattering in the toilet had the other two straining. Until finally, finally, Mara began to beg.
“Please. I’m not gonna make it. You don’t wanna mop up our pee, do you? Come on, we’ve had our fun, let us go. Huh? I’ll do whatever you want, I promise.”
She says this as if we don’t play this game monthly, as if they don’t wet themselves firmly entertainment more than that.
I horny out of my mind, baileys accident, and these two on the brink?
“Alright. Here’s this. You’re new challenge. Make the other holder wet herself, and the winner can go.”
Rose turned to the girl she now saw as her enemy, but Mara was already on her, shoving her against the wall.
Their methods were not what I expected, but still sexy.
Bailey came out of the bathroom, completely naked except for the tank top she had on under the onesie, and watched as Mara savagely kissed Rose, pushing her against the wall, her hand on her bladder.
Roses whine was high pitched and unexpected coming from her, she must have been truly aching. And she wasn’t going down without a fight. She grabbed Mara, flipping them around, she grabbed the girls wrists and pinned them above her head, Mara fought her, her legs twisted together.
At some point, my hand found itself under my pants as I watched it all unfold. Quickly though, Bailey fixed this and replaced it with her own. She rubbed my clit firmly, slowly as they fought for their bathroom privileges.
Rose lifted her leg and pressed her knee, lightly, into Maras abdomen.
Mara screamed, thrashed against her.
A jet of pee escaped. A lot. All at once and then quickly came off. It hit the ground in an audible splat, it was so startling, rose let up her hold, allowing Mara to free herself and push.
“I need to go now,” Mara urged, attempting to shoulder past Rose.
“No!” Rose shouted, grabbing at her. Bailey and I stepped out of the way.
Bailey stood in front of me, back pressed to my chest as we switched activities and I fingered her. Shockingly, she began to pee again while I did this, freely, right on the floor without a care in the world. I’m so in love with these women it’s unreal.
Rose and Mara hit the ground, and that’s when it happened.
Rose’s grey sweatpants filled with piss so fast you’d think they were purchased in that color, almost a charcoal grey. Bailey gasped when she saw them darken, she began moving her hips with my hand, aroused at the sight of Rose’s accident.
Rose slumped in relief, she was holding herself up, her palms flat on the ground behind her as she watched the puddle start to grow under her. God, it was pretty.
“Mm,” Bailey moaned, burying her head in my neck, eyes squeezed shut as she came around my fingers. The first of many. More piss sprayed out of her, about as much as Mara’s initial accident.
Speaking of.
“Please,” Mara said, standing in front of me, shoulders hunched forward, two hands over her pussy. “I won, I got her to pee herself. Will you let me go now?”
Bailey caught her breath and left me to sit beside, and begin making out with, Rose.
“Oh baby,” I took a step forward, she smiled hopefully. She looked so beautiful like this, utterly wanting. “You already are.”
Rivers of pee were flowing down her legs, she hadn’t realized it. Somehow. Her eyebrows bunched. She looked down, moving her hands as a wet stain creeped up the pink material.
“It doesn’t…i don’t feel the relief.”
“You will, let it all out, don’t try and hold it any longer.”
“Feels much better, Mar.”
“You look so pretty, Mara.”
Rose and Bailey stood up and stood with her, one on either side. Rose pushed her hair off her shoulder and began kissing her neck. Bailey rubbed over the woman’s bladder, pushing ever so slightly.
“You’re still trying to hold it.”
“I won,” she sniffled, eyes red-rimmed.
“You won baby. Have your prize.”
Her legs gave out. The girls grabbed her arms, holding her up before she could right herself. Bailey put her foot between Maras, kindly kicking her legs apart.
“Finish wetting yourself, honey.”
Her bottom lip trembled. Soon it wasn’t a couple small streams, it was a gush, loud as it flowed out of her panties down both legs and through the center. She breathed, finally relieved as she thoroughly soaked herself.
Well, it ended up being more than three puddles. Who could’ve guessed?
Me. I could’ve guessed. My three soaked girls. The fun continues.
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inmydeepestdreams · 5 months
Text
She sat in the back of the class, the diligent student. She was pre med, she was going to be a doctor. Her notebook was color coded with highlighters and post it notes, she was nearly top of her class and determined to beat the woman ahead of her.
Though, this was a simple bio lecture. One anyone could take. There were plenty of students in there of other majors taking the class to fulfill their science requirement. He was one such student.
Dr. Tad Bartley continued to give a high school level lecture (in her opinion) on plant cells.
She stared at the back of his head, the guy in the front row. The guy she found herself, accidentally, falling into bed with.
More than once too, every time unexpected. Every time she was furious with herself after. She was determined not to date until she was well established in medical school. Though, what they were doing wasn’t dating.
He was teasing her, constantly. He was a humanities major of some kind with a bad boy attitude that she didn’t know transferred to college. He wore big black boots that would’ve made her father call him an anarchist or a communist or something of the nature. Some days he had a leather jacket. It was a hot summer day outside today, though, so it was a t-shirt, all his tattoos on display. His hair was longer than the guys she’s dated before, it was dark and curled at the ends, and she had to stop, she was practically drooling over him in class.
He leaned back in his chair. Why did he even take up a seat in the front row? It was a small classroom, a small university, not the sort of lecture halls she’s seen on tv all her life. His feet were firmly planted on the ground, his legs spread wide. She could only see the back of him but her mouth was dry, she was drawing circles in her notebook as she stared.
And then, he stood. Right up, the front row made it extremely obvious. Dr. Bartley continued without reacting. He turned and glanced at the room, at her, before strutting out, two long steps and he was out the door, boots heavy on the floor.
She stared down at her notebook, repeating the word ‘no’ to herself over and over again. She did this for two minutes, put down her pen, left her things, and walked out the doors. It was the first time she’s left a class for a “bathroom break” since she got to college nearly two years ago.
He was standing in the hall, sideways, in front of a door at the other end. Upon seeing her enter the hallway, he smirked, and pushed on the door he was in front of.
She kept her head down, though the hall was empty, this was a basement level classroom.
She scurried into the room. There was a table and filing cabinets. In it were three doors marked with the names of professors. Two were dark with their doors shut. The one in the center said Dr. Bartley.
He was standing in the doorway of Dr. Bartleys office, waiting for her.
Again, her brain was telling her no, she shouldn’t. This was s professors office, one in her field, no less. But dark, dangerous eyes on her…
The door had frosted glass, there was only half an hour more of class. She pushed into the office and he shut the door.
He was on her without a word, her heart quickened as her back hit the closed door, hair bunched on the frosted glass, obvious from the other side that someone was being pressed against, being kissed within an inch of their life.
They didn’t talk. They both seemed to understand the urgency, and god, it was hot. This so wasn’t her. She was the good girl, the dutiful student, most likely to succeed. And dammit, she was succeeding.
But this, this felt like danger. It felt like he was a demon sent from hell to disrupt her, to ruin her dreams before they could properly get started. As he ran a hand up her leg, she wanted him to take her, to ruin her, to keep her.
He unbuttoned her skinny jeans (if she knew she were seeing him, she would’ve worn her loosest pants), shoving his hand down, taking a moment to stroke her untrimmed hair, a grin on his face disrupting their lips.
She shoved at him, silently telling him to stop being smug, or horny, or whatever. A second later, he pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth and plunged two fingers into her. She imagined that her panties on his wrist dug in uncomfortably but she could hardly care as he began to rub her clit.
She gasped, her head falling down on his shoulder as he held her up. He continued to run until she was hot all over, until she felt the sparkling anticipation of pleasure.
He knelt, not wasting a second, he ripped her pants down, down, until they were around her ankles. Still on his knees, he looked up at her, bad boy persona turned to prayer to an idol. He was all goodness, eager to please with his sweet gaze. He buried his head in her pussy, eyes closed like he was going in for a kiss.
She moaned, then shoved her hand over her mouth, squeezing her eyes shut, trying to forget. Forget she was in her professors office, that this could get her expelled. Just two weeks ago she was in her discussing a test, she thought she got a question right he marked wrong. She was correct and got the point.
He lapped at her soaking wetness, not quite attaching himself to her clit like she needed. He pushed deeper, somehow, tilting his head back so he could stick his tongue in her hole.
Her eyes shot open in surprise. She remembered they were on a time crunch, he could explore her pussy later. She pulled him up by his pretty hair, he came, dazed, his face soaked. She kissed him lightly and opened his pants.
He seemed to get the memo, remembering where they were. His strong arms wrapped around her, holding her up. He shoved her harder against the door, until she was lifted, fully in his arms. She felt, only for a second, the tip of his cock line up with her hole before he slid her down on his length.
She moaned outwardly, no longer holding her mouth. He raised his eyebrows at her, warning her to cool it. She bit her lip as he rocked inside her. Harder, she wanted to say, faster. She dug her nails into him so deep she swore they went through his t-shirt.
He fucked her wildly, trying to get them there as quickly as possible. God, this was so, so wrong. So dangerous, so hot. God, she was fucking in her professors office. She was so dirty-
He grunted, she slapped him, only lightly, a warning. He gasped, looking at her with opened mouthed desire as he fucked into her harder, rolling her hips on him.
And then, the unthinkable.
They had been banging hard against the door, totally missing the voices in the hallway. But the door to the lobby clicking open was unmistakable. He noticed it too, instantly pulling her away from the door, he backed them up, she looked at him fearfully, wide eyes. He was still inside her. He sat her bare ass on the side of his messy desk.
Two people came in and started talking. Two men. She strained, trying to tell if one was Dr. Bartley but she couldn’t tell. They were discussing changes to the administration, something boring and unsexy, when he started to rock into her again.
She pushed at his shoulder, trying to pretend that she wasn’t turned on like crazy at the prospect of being found, of being expelled, of everyone knowing she was just some whore like everyone else. She was never the good girl, she had them all fooled.
She grabbed him, meeting his thrusts. It had to be done quick, she had a degree to earn. All that stuff was just fantasy. She’d have both, sex and success.
He covered her mouth with his hand as he worked them both towards completion. As she imagined having to go before the Dean and appeal her expulsion, explaining to him in vivid detail what she had done, she came, eyes wide, staring at nothing, his hand tighter over her mouth. He came in her as her orgasm was reaching its peak, she made a mental note to start carrying condoms in her things.
As they stopped moving and just focused on their breathing, he finally pulled out, his cock still twitching. The sight of it truthfully filled her with arousal.
Seconds later, before she could even get her pants up, the voices began to laugh. They laughed and laughed and laughed. Fear was ice down her spine as the pair just looked at each other with fear.
“Hey, we hear you in there, you disgusting fuck!” They banged on the door, still laughing. It was the confrontation she had expected.
Though, a minute later, the voices receded, disappearing into the hallway.
“Our bags,” she said, speaking to him for the first time. She pulled up her pants as his come dripped from her, wincing at what would no doubt be a visible stain.
They creeped from the office to the lobby, poking their heads into the hallway.
He went to retrieve their bags, appearing back a moment later, handing hers off without a word. She assumed that meant no trouble. She nodded at him, shouldering her bag, intending to go a different way than him.
He started to turn, slapping her ass lightly with a smirk before he headed off. She ran to the alternative exit, hoping to god whoever was banging on the door didn’t know it was her, kinda horny at the thought that they did know it was her.
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inmydeepestdreams · 5 months
Text
The three of them were gone, again, by the time I woke up Sunday morning.
We would be heading back to campus tonight in time for regular classes tomorrow. Whatever work they had in town got them out early.
After trying to load a video on my phone for twenty minutes (and failing, I think the professor has bad wifi on purpose), I got out of bed.
In just my pajamas, hair unbrushed and unkempt, face clean of makeup, I went to see what I could scavenge up for breakfast.
Toast with peanut butter is what it appeared to be. I stood in front of the toaster. I couldn’t help but rub my thighs together slightly. I had a dream last night, one I could hardly remember now. All I could remember was coming over and over and over-
the toast popped, I jumped. I had drooled slightly as I remembered my dream. Embarrassed, I wiped my chin and continued preparing breakfast.
I leaned against the kitchen island, sinking my teeth into the warm bread, staring off into the distance at not much at all. I was beginning to grow used to this place, this “house” as he called it, which was practically a castle. Family wealth, I imagine. Generational, not something I’ve ever had access to. I resented it, but I’m not ashamed to say I took advantage of it.
My last bite of unsatisfying breakfast caused another scare.
A loud plop! Something in my periphery. I jumped, sliding backwards some instinctively.
“Sawyer?”
Sawyer was standing in the kitchen, a mischievous glint in his eye. He had tossed something on the kitchen island, a black trash bag. He was wearing jeans, one of those stupid rich boy vests over a shirt, and what appeared to be work gloves. What did sawyer know of hard work? I almost laughed.
“Guess they left us both.”
I stared at him, uncomfortable.
“Well anyway, what with my newly free day, I decided to do some exploring.”
He patted the bag, which crinkled under his gloves. He was showboating, for what I couldn’t guess.
“I saw you last night again, stealing away from Dr. Weatherbys rooms. Made me wonder what he had you throw away Friday night.”
Understanding was overwhelming. I straightened up and took a step backwards.
“See, I think this is exactly what John wanted me to find.”
“Youre a spy?”
“No, I’m a student, turned spy. John wants lead on this project they’re working on, and I think I found evidence to blackmail your…daddy…into giving it to him.”
I stared at sawyer, ashamed but also simply angry.
“If john wanted evidence, he’s got enough in me. Why didn’t he point at me and yell I was his…”
“Yes, his what? And you’d deny it, of course. I’m sure there’s a paper trail, but it would get messy. John’s not interested in disturbing their tentative peace by bringing the administration into. Plus, what would poor, poor Sara’s family say?”
“Fuck you.”
“Now, what I found down the garbage chute was most interesting. Nearly every outfit you wore up here stained, and smelling like-“
“Fuck off Sawyer!” I shouted, red in the face, I felt such shame in that moment, which is the opposite of what I wanted in front of him. I did what I had to do, this is survival, rich boys like him would never understand.
“Wow, someone’s sensitive. Figured it would take a real strong constitution to do what I suspect you’ve been doing.”
“You know what I’ve been doing.”
“Yes, quite damning, isn’t it.”
My eyes filled with tears.
“Ill be ruined, Sawyer. He’ll fire me. I can’t afford this school without him, I just can’t. I deserve to be here, I got the scores to get in. You’re destroying my future.”
“Im trying to get ahead,” Sawyer said, frowning.
“By stepping on the backs of others, just like you and your people have always done.”
We looked at each other.
“He may not fire you.”
“Please, he’s a scared man, he’s so careful. Once they know of his…kink…it’ll be over for him. Do you know how hard it was to get him to open up to me?”
I leaned against the counter, imagining the next semester of college, getting kicked out, everything I’ve worked for in shambles.
“Why would you want…this?” He wrinkled his nose and waved at the trash bag.
I looked up at Sawyer. I could feel that my eyelashes were slightly wet. He was having trouble holding my gaze.
He’s handsome, sure. Conventionally so, which has never been my type. Still, he’s…he spent the weekend frothing at the mouth at the opportunity to use me.
Use him. Win.
“You know, he didn’t even make me come last night? And my vibrator is dead, and I can’t load porn up here-“ I closed my eyes. “Im desperate for it, and now…” I sighed.
“That is unfortunate. Though I’d think you’d have less of a taste for sex, being it’s your job.”
“Youd think, but you have to enjoy it to some degree to do it at all.”
His eyes widened ever so slightly. I put my hand in my hair, brushing it out of my face.
“I know John promised me to you when you were discussing this weekend.”
“I could have you anytime I wanted,” he said flippantly, looking away.
“We both know you couldn’t. Sure, I service John, but when it comes to you, Dr. Weatherby as given me a choice. I’m my own person, I’m not property, remember?”
“Yes, well, after digging around in the cellar all morning, I know what kind of person you are. Safe to say I don’t want you.”
He was lying, he couldn’t even look at me.
“What did John offer you?”
“More than you can.”
“Are you sure?”
I took a step forward. Clothes, in this business, are everything. It’s not just to dress right but to act as the person you are dressing as. In this unfortunate state, I was going to have Grace innocence with my determination.
“Can John fulfill your deepest desires? The ones you haven’t been able to talk to with your exes? Hm?”
“Theres more to life than sex.”
“Is there?”
He looked down at me, eyes dark. He was closer to him now, another inch and we’d be pressed together.
“Maybe I can offer you something better.”
Sawyer looked away. I waited, but he wasn’t going to tell me, it seemed.
“Did he offer you anything?”
Sawyers face was so telling.
“My god, you were gonna blow everything up as a favor to the man?
“His letters of recommendation are gold, Sara.”
“One letter, that he may give you if you’ve told him you found nothing. One letter, or…”
I took a step backwards, leaving my body language open.
“Or what?”
“Burn the bag, and find out.”
He bit his lip.
Come on, big boy.
“I’m sorry he left you wanting.”
Forward? Coy?
“Yes, well. I’m afraid I’m used to it. You were right about Friday.”
“Youve had all that sex this weekend without anything for yourself?”
It’s the job.
I bit my lip and nodded.
Silence.
“You know, you were…almost frightening to look at when I passed you in the hall last night. It’s like you were someone else. An animal, desperate for attention. I had to look away.”
“Does that mean you find me grotesque?”
“Not at all.”
I waited again.
“What are the terms?”
I smiled at him.
We stood maybe a half mile from the house, still on the property, at the burn pile as the bag went up in flames. He kept his arm around my waist, hand on my ass as we watched the evidence disappear.
I squirmed as I watched the plastic melt, my panties were so wet they were cold.
“Cold?” He asked. Quietly, like he cared. I almost rolled my eyes. Sure, I agreed to fuck him. Not just here, but also back at campus, but I wasn’t gonna pretend to like him.
I decided to cool my attitude until we got back to campus tonight.
“No.” I looked up at him, hoping he got the message.
He squeezed my hip and turned me. The handling shot sensation up the sides of my body, like electricity. His hands on my waist.
“I want to make you come.”
My mouth parted. I was at his service, just like the professor. The work wasn’t about me, it was about them.
“Dont worry, I’ll make you feel good,” I ran my hand down his chest, stopping on his stomach to gaze up at him.
“You first,” he said, then he laid me down.
“Here?” I couldn’t keep the nervousness from my voice. We were out in an open space. Sure, it was the country, and there were no roads around, but the top floors of the house can look down on the burn pile, we could be seen.
“You’ve waited long enough,” he said, kneeling beside me. I watched him arrange himself so he sat a ways back from the fire. The plastic bag had burned through, the insides were alight.
He opened his legs and dragged me towards him, pressing my back against his chest.
“The first one will be like this. The others we can get creative.”
I could feel his cock, probably half hard, against my ass. I wiggled just to bother him. I was slightly rattled by his seemingly kind intentions, this wasn’t the Sawyer I knew.
He slipped his long fingers into the waistband of my sweatpants. I leaned back, resting the back of my head against his shoulder. At first, he just rubbed at the top of the waistband. He did this until goosebumps rose on my skin. My pussy was reacting to the closeness of his hand. Finally, finally I’d relieve some pressure.
“Sawyer,” I said sternly. “What are you waiting for?”
I wasn’t look at him but I could tell he was grinning.
“That. Your beg.”
I smacked his thigh but said nothing, feeling my face grow hot.
He slid his hand lower, until he could cup me over my underwear. He grabbed me, covering my entire pussy with his hand, he pressed up, shoving my underwear into my soaking folds.
“Did you piss these panties too? Or are you just that desperate? Tell the truth so we can add them to the fire.”
I grit my teeth and resisted the urge to call him a smug bastard.
“You’re saying that as if I can’t feel your cock twitch every five seconds.”
His response was to shift his hips, dragging his bulge along my back. He sighed.
He nipped at my ear, startling me.
“Gonna make you feel better than that old man ever did.”
Yeah. Right.
He played with the edges of my panties, dipping his fingers slightly in before pulling out, snapping the fabric back in place and rubbing me over them. It shouldn’t have been driving me so insane but it was. It fucking was. To the point where my hips were twitching upwards and my brain was leaking out of my ears.
“Aw baby, I got you, Sara. I got you. Here, I’m sorry, I waited to long. I’ll play with your clit, lovely. There we go. You make such pretty sounds.”
I gasped and tried not to moan as he rubbed a slow circle over my clit with his index and middle finger. One slow rotation. It felt like fireworks.
“More.”
“So pretty, Sara,” he said as he began to rub me faster, finally putting pressure exactly where I needed it.
“Sawyer. Oh. Oh. Oh god, Sawyer-“
I came fast, probably the fastest I ever have without the help of a vibrator. My head against his shoulder, mouth open, he didn’t stop rubbing me until I was convulsing against him, pushing his arm away. His chuckle was deep, I felt the rumble run through me.
“You really did need that. God, I’d say I can see why he likes you, but if he’s not making you come, what’s the point?”
“He likes me because I’m intelligent and fulfill his needs,” I said when my breathing returned to normal.
“I need more.”
“What?” He laughed, he had a nice smile, damn him. All straight teeth, the best money can buy no doubt. I glared at him.
“More. I’ve been denied more orgasms than one,” it’s not that, really it’s more that I need him to fuck me, I need it like it’s the signature on the bottom of a contract. If he fucks me, the deal is set in stone.
“Poor thing, what can I do?”
I sat in front of him, my back to the fire, knees getting wet in the cold grass. I grabbed the obvious outline of his cock through his pants. His eyes widened like he didn’t expect it. Squeezing, I leaned forward and pressed a small kiss to his lips.
He deepened it immediately, happily sliding his tongue into my mouth, grabbing me by the back of my neck to pull me in closer.
As we kissed and popped the button of his jeans. He didn’t notice until my hand was on his dick. Over his underwear. I could feel where his tip leaked precome into them.
“Now who has wet panties?” I asked, causing a really interesting shiver to go up his spine.
I pressed him back, into the grass. The fire and our bodies warmed us. His lips were soft, his kisses started deliberate but were growing frenzied, and by the amount his cock was leaking, I was growing concerned he would come in his pants.
I leaned back. He chased my lips for a second, which was surprisingly cute. Straddling his thighs, I pulled his underwear out of the way and let his cock spring free.
“Lay back,” I ordered when he tried to stand up. His cock twitched, possibly at my tone, which was full of authority.
I stood, pulling down my pants and my underwear in one quick motion, kicking them to the side. Fast and dirty, still mostly clothed.
“Will you take off your shirt?”
Never mind, he’s mostly clothed. At least I have my socks on.
The cold air instantly hardened my nipples as I tossed my shirt.
He propped himself up. I climbed into his lap, rubbing his dick against my wetness. He moaned, eyes on my chest, until he lunged forward to attach himself to my left nipple.
“Oh,” I gasped, moaning as he rolled it between his teeth and began to suck. He shut his eyes, really getting into it.
“Sawyer,” I said. I grabbed his cock and rubbed it against my clit, which was fun for me. He whimpered, his mouth still on my tit.
“You keep sucking, keep sucking on mommy’s tits-“
I don’t know why I said that. I have no idea where it came from, but he didn’t seem to mind. If anything it turned him on more.
“Keep going baby, mommy’s just gonna play with you, make you feel good.”
Riding wasn’t my favorite position, but if it meant he’d keep biting, sucking, and fondling my breasts, then I was happy to play cowgirl.
I lowered myself on his cock. His mouth opened in a choked off moan- releasing my tit, where a small amount of blood had been drawn.
He ran his hand up my torso as I bottomed out, feeling more full than I have in a long time, he grabbed my tits and pushed them up, pushed them together. I watched him run his mouth back and forth between nipples, lapping at them. It was extremely hot, turning me on like crazy. I’ve never had someone treat my tits with so much attention before.
As I began to bounce on his cock, my movements dislodged him from my chest. He put his hands on my hips lightly, not doing any of the work, and buried buried his head between them.
I couldn’t do much bouncing that way, so I settled for grinding. Soon our bodies were moving together, our cries were growing feverish, crazed, we were both working our way towards massive orgasms, and this may have been the best sex we’ve ever had. For me, at least. Not that I’d ever tell him that.
“Gonna come,” he whined, still playing with my chest, a glazed over look in his eye. “In you?”
“In me, baby. Come in me, fill me up.”
“Mm,” he whimpered, pulling me close, stopping my movements as I felt his hot come paint my insides. My own orgasm snuck up on me as I imagined what his coming cock looked like, tipping me sweetly over the edge. I gripped his shoulders and held on as my pussy contracted around him.
“Oh my god,” he moaned, “you feel so good, Sara.”
I took a moment before I climbed off him, surprised my knees would let me. The emptiness made me feel cold instantly. I pulled my panties and pants back on despite his come leaking out of me. The fire was down to orange coals, I probably had just enough time to shower before the professors got back.
Before I put on my shirt he stood, soft cock still hanging out, come sticking on it. I averted my eyes. He looked down at my chest, rubbing his thumb over the place where he broke the skin.
“I didnt, I’ve never…I didn’t mean to bite you so hard. Are you okay?”
“I’m okay,” I said, and put my shirt back on.
“Im sorry.”
“No, it was good. It was hot, really.” Some of the hottest sex I’ve ever had. I couldn’t say that to him, really.
He looked like he wanted to say something else, so I grabbed his hand and started pulling him in the direction of the house, making sure to drop it when I knew he was following.
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inmydeepestdreams · 5 months
Text
I woke up late to an empty house. Usually, here in the mountains, I would take up to him touching me. Either gently shaking me or not-so-gently sliding his cock into me. But today I was on my own.
In the kitchen I found a note next to a bag of blueberry scones from a local bakery.
Sleep in, baby, you’ll need your rest. Be back by dinner -daddy
I took the note, I would dispose of it at home. I bit a scone and, just for shits and giggles, gleefully ran down the long upstairs hallway, then again, then again. Then I ran throughout the entire mansion.
I went out the back doors, they were french, exquisite. The patio had a dusting of snow on it. I gazed at the beautiful, endless mountains and went back inside.
I spent my day, as you can imagine, fucking around. Internet, wandering, I tried John and Sawyers bedrooms to find them locked (boring)
Around four, I took a quick shower. I pinned my hair up, going for “teacher in a porno” and succeeding. He picked this outfit for me, I found it in the closet with a note that said “Saturday evening.” It was a deep red and green skirt, pleated, like the other ones he preferred. A standard outfit, but it was paired with a crisp white shirt and a lacy black push up bra, there’s no way you wouldn’t see it under the shirt.
I clasped the bra and stared at my tits in the mirror. I was really fucking hot, he was a lucky man. I pulled at the flimsy cup, seeing how much pressure it took to make them pop (not much). The panties with the outfit matched. The socks were knee high, deep black, paired with black flats. It was not the most fashion forward fit. Whatever. There was a single, unopened tube of racing red lipstick on the vanity. As I finished applying that, the door opened.
I made my way downstairs, careful to sway my hips as I neared excited voices. They spent the day at a local archive, they found some good stuff, apparently. I tried not to be jealous and failed. Still, I smiled widely at them. They were still gathered in the foyer, but conversation fell silent as they saw me. Even Sawyer looked struck dumb.
“Hi daddy,” I said, just to say something. Dr. Weatherly melted and came to me, pulling me in for a deep kiss, ruining the lipstick no doubt.
“Dinner, then games in the den.”
Dinner was a lovely, in un-sexual affair. John made a pasta dish I couldn’t pronounce and plated it gourmet. They let me in on their discussions of artifacts, this time discussing the revolutionary war rather than anything pertaining to my studies, still, it was of interest. We laughed, we ate, it was nice.
When he said games, of course, he meant me. I was the game. I’m always the game.
“Take down your hair,” he ordered of me at dinner. I did, letting the soft waves fall delicately around my face.
“Isnt she a vision?”
“Oh yes,” John said awkwardly.
“Virgin Mary herself,” Sawyer said under his breath. I kicked him. He scoffed, shocked, but left it there.
In front of a roaring fire, the professors sent Sawyer away for the evening. To my shock, I felt a pang of nervousness as he left. Sure, I had him. I really really hate him, but the antagonism felt natural, it made me feel like a real person, not just a girl to be used.
Speaking of used, I was still without an orgasm. I had all day to relieve the ache between my legs but didn’t bother, I wanted to come easy tonight for these men.
We started with a game of poker, strip poker. Everytime I lost a hand (which was always, as they were cheating, it didn’t bother me enough to stop it) the professors had me stand in front of the fire and slowly remove an article of clothing.
It was so unlike a strip club it was shocking. The men sipped their cocktails and watched me sway my hips. They watched me turn my back to them and slowly unbutton my shirt, sliding it partly down to expose my shoulders, look back at them with an open-mouthed, dumb whore expression.
Some days I thought I was too good at this, that the professor would forget I’m an intelligent study with a bright future. I was top of his class, top of all my classes. Sometimes, I think all he saw was long hair and a pair of tits.
I turned to face them in my skirt and bra. Biting my lip, I grabbed my tits over the lacy cups and sat back down.
When the game was over and I was fully naked, we moved to the couches.
“Touch yourself for daddy and his friend, love. Show us how you make yourself feel good.”
They sat in chairs while I sat on the couch. Slowly, I popped a finger into my mouth and sucked, hollowing out my cheeks. I kneaded at my left tit. My eyes dropped low, eyeing their clothed erections. God, I was so fucking horny.
Circling my clit, I couldn’t help screwing my face up in a probably unattractive way and gasping. I was so, so sensitive. It was unreal.
My daddy met me finger myself for a few minutes and I lost myself in the pleasure, moaning, moving faster and faster until I was right on the edge-
“Stop.”
“What? Daddy, no, please…” I slowed down but didn’t stop, he couldn’t make me, no, please no-
“Stop little miss, that’s an order.”
I whimpered, slowing to a stop but taking a second to remove my hand completely. I felt like crying.
I sat there, shaking, naked, desperate. I felt small and scared and so horny, I’d do anything.
My daddy through back the rest of his drink and walked over to the couch. Grabbing the bottom of my chin, he forced my gaze up to meet his. I whimpered again, begging him to touch me.
“So needy, such a needy little thing. We’ll make you feel better, baby. My friend and I will fill you up.”
He stepped away. I watched him pour himself another scotch.
“Suck off John and then you can come upstairs.”
“I thought you’d let me fuck her this time.”
“Next time, I have other plans for her pussy.”
Crying a little, I got on my knees and crawled over to John. I looked up at him with wet eyelashes as I opened his pants. His cock sprang out, slapping me slightly in the face.
Which. Yeah. That was hot.
I grabbed hold firmly at the base and leaned forward, suckling lightly on the tip. His hands immediately found my hair and pushed me down. It was over only a few seconds later with a grunt and a hair tug.
I swallowed his come, my pussy so wet it was leaking down my thighs.
“Please, can I come now, daddy?”
“Yes baby, I’ll make you come. Let’s go up to daddy’s room, shall we?”
He took my hand and we left John there, panting and spent. He walked me naked through the cold winter halls, his arm around my waist.
Completely naked, the professor and I walked by Sawyer. I had to avert my eyes, knowing I was still teary with the throbbing I felt in my pussy. I didn’t want him to see me so desperate, confirming everything he felt about me.
“Get on the bed.”
I crawled up from the bottom, giving him ample time to ogle my ass.
“On your back, Sara.”
I reached down to relieve some of the unbearable pressure, but I only got as far as the mound of mu pussy before he told me to stop.
“I said I’d make you come, and I will. Don’t you trust your daddy?”
“Yes daddy, you make me feel so good.”
Of course, that’s not always the case, like the other night, when he kicked me out and I went to bed horny.
He stripped quickly, his hard cock twitching in his pants. There was a small stain of precome where his tip lay, I wanted to lick it off.
He grabbed me, pushing one of my legs up so it was over his shoulder, plunging two fingers into my wetness without a care in the world.
“Oh!” I exclaimed, surprised. He pumped his fingers in and out, the horribly embarrassing sounds of my squelching pussy filled the room.
“So wet for me. So wet that you’re ruining the sheets! Fuck.”
I looked down to see a little dribble of piss escape the tip of his dick and land in the bedding under us. Oh.
He thrust his cock into me, stopping about halfway as I cried out, flinching upwards slightly.
“More,” I begged. “Fuck me.”
He bottomed out, I grabbed at his bare back, digging my finger nails in.
“Sara, my god Sara you feel so fucking good.”
“Daddy, I need it so bad. Need you.”
“I got you baby, I got you. I just-I just need to-I just need to-ohhhhh.”
I felt the shocking, warm intrusion of his piss inside me. He pulled out, continuing to have his accident on the sheets and against my bare pussy. He pushed me back so he could aim higher, covering my tits in his piss.
I watched, mouth open, breathing so heavy. I needed him back inside me, I needed to come. Dammit, if I knew it would be more piss stuff I’d have come by myself earlier.
He finished his piss on my thighs and shoved himself back inside me. He didn’t get halfway in before he was coming.
And, well. I knew the drill.
He’d feel bad if I didn’t at least fake it, and he won’t touch me after he’s peed on me long enough to get me off. So.
I scratched up his back, threw my head back and moaned as his come mixed with his piss inside me. Tonight would require and even more thorough shower.
He gave me a robe I had never seen before to wear to the bathroom and told me he’d take care of the rest. Spent, emotionally exhausted, and still throbbing, I left him. I was mildly frustrated with him and with myself for not being more proactive.
I idly rubbed myself in the shower but my orgasm was evading me, and my hands were slowing down too much. By the time I got out of the steamy bathroom I was boneless.
I laid back in my bed. I spent the rest of my energy digging through my suitcase before I came back with my little purple vibrator. Finally. Some relief.
Only, when I switched it on I found it to be completely dead, not an ounce of life in it. I didn’t bring my charger either.
“Fuck,” I threw my vibrator towards the suitcase in the dark, snuggled up in bed, and waited until I fell asleep.
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inmydeepestdreams · 6 months
Text
Leona, the new queen of the kingdom, is far from home.
She isn’t so “new” anymore. She’s been in the kingdom for a year and a half. She got married under blossoming fruit trees, surrounded by strangers, drenched in purple and sweat. Her husband, the King, was a man of her age, roughly. She was twenty-two, he was maybe twenty-six. Handsome enough, he had a reputation of being a womanizer, that was supposed to change upon their marriage.
She had no illusions about marriage. Leona knew what was expected of her. She knew, when the king came to her city looking for a wife, that she could do no better in life than become a queen. She would be taken care of. She would have plenty to eat, she’d be warm and sleep in a nice bed.
And he was nice, King Isaac. He treated her kindly, if timidly, holding her hand until they landed in their marriage bed. Then, things got heated.
“Heated” for him. For her, it was about endurance. She didn’t enjoy it, really. He pushed inside too quickly, came even quicker, and he left her there. That’s how she found out they had separate chambers, that’s life for a king and queen, she learned. He fucked her and ruined the sheets of her bed, not his. She was frustrated with this.
She was more frustrated with how, a year and some months later, she was still without child. She should’ve been pregnant by now, they have relations every night. She stood in the garden, hand on her empty abdomen, and stared at the swells on the trees. Fruit grew abundantly here, and it was vastly different from her own home. they were in deep summer, the end, truthfully. She reached up to pull down a berry but couldn’t reach.
Her knight, Idla, stepped toward.
“Let me, my queen.”
Idla was the knight assigned to her at all times. She had an all female set of guards, per the kings paranoid request. Idla was her favorite, she was only slightly taller than Leona but that was enough. Taking the dagger from her brown boots, Leona watched the fabric pull over the woman’s muscles as she cut down a rich, purple berry.
Idla handed it over with a simple smile. Her dirty blonde hair was loose around her face, a summer custom here, but she had a small braid pinned against her head. Most women lighten their hair come summer, Idla was a local, she followed the tradition. Leona heard whispers when she did not, for the second summer in a row, stray from her dark hair. It reminded her of home.
She bit into the sweet flesh, juice squirted on her hands. She had been making lewd eye contact with Idla, she lowered her lashes and tore the flesh from the berry, chewing absently.
They turned a corner during their stroll through the gardens. Her afternoon walk, sometimes she went on an evening one. She was concerned with her lack of pregnancy, women have been ousted for such things. It was on her mind when she turned again and saw the king there.
Idla bowed, technically, Leona was supposed to as well. She didn’t.
“Honey,” the king greeted, stiff despite the term of endearment. He kissed her cheek, his lips was soft. “Ive been speaking with the physician. And with Erman.”
His primary advisor, an old man, advisor to the former king as well. Her heart dropped.
“I have been to see physician weekly since my arrival,” Leon said, it was true.
“I know, you have been most helpful in this. But my advisors say that if a woman does not want to get pregnant, she won’t. Is that what’s happening here?”
“Not at all, my king. I wish to be a mother.”
“Do you wish to secure the kingdom?”
“I wish nothing more.”
“Then what is the matter? Is your womb barren?”
It came out harsh, maybe that was his intention. It took everything in Leona not to accuse his dick of being faulty.
“The physician does not think so.”
“Hmm, come to my chambers now. Might as well get today over with.”
Idla followed with the kings two guards as far as the doors, and she was there when the king had come inside her and sent her away.
Idla was kind not to speak with her after. This time, she had tears in her eyes. Idla stood by her while she cried in the bath.
“I miss home, my family,” she whispered. She was not supposed to say these things, women were owned, they did not go back to their old lives. But she wore her hair down today and it reminded of her mom and her sisters, and she felt so, so alone.
Idla knelt by the bath.
“But im so afraid, I’m afraid I’m defective and he’ll send me away, or worse.”
“Hey, I know you’re not defective. You just had your blood, what? A week ago? Two? And even so, you are worth more than this ridiculous notion of procreation, he must see that.”
“He doesn’t care to know me, you’re the only person I have here, Idla.”
They went riding the next day. In a field overlooking the city, Idla sat beside her in the grass. It was a peaceful place, the king was kind to the people. There hasn’t been violence against the monarchy since before the reign of issacs family.
“It may very well be his penis that does not work, if you don’t mind me saying.”
“I never mind hearing what you have to say.”
Leona wore riding trousers, tan, and she was no doubt staining them with the lush green grass. Idla bit into an orange slice, a fruit from home.
“Ive heard of men like this. It’s always blamed on the women, the women take the hit, but it’s often the men.”
“Mm, then I am royally fucked.”
“Thats the problem.” They laughed despite her melancholy.
“I can help, Leona.”
“What do you mean? Can you fix my husband?”
“No, unfortunately. But I can…I can secure your place here, I can make you safe.”
“Theres only one way that could happen l Leona said, dismissively. Idla paused.
“Yes, one way.”
It took leona a second to understand what the other woman was saying.
“Your proposing I cheat on my husband? He would find out. There is no man we could trust.”
“No, you’re right. No man. Me, leona. He’d never have to know, and you’d be safe.”
Leona laughed, unsure, confused, and startlingly aroused as she understood what was being offered.
Idla swooped down and stole her lips in a soft kiss. Leona’s stomach dropped. If they were to be caught, they would both be executed, no doubt.
But idlas lips tasted like orange, like the kiss of former lovers, and Idla was the only person here she cared about, the only kind person, the only loving person…
She slid her hand along the woman’s face, across her jaw until she could catch a firm grip on her scalp. Idla gasped, kissing her deeper, pressing against her.
The queen climbed into her lap, roughly pulling the woman against her. Idla met her urgency, pawing at her chest, which was for once, free of a corset, as it didn’t fit with her riding gear.
From her spot on idlas lap, she could feel what the woman spoke of. She had no idea Idla had this capability but she was immensely grateful for it. She felt a needy tingle in her pants as she continued to cheat on her husband. Idlas hand managed to pull her shirt from where it was tucked into her pants. She slid it upwards, running her thumb over a bare nipple, causing the queens hips to stutter forward. God, she hoped Idla was right but even if she wasn’t, she wanted this more than anything in the world.
She backed on her knight. Idla made a small, cute, questioning noise as she vanished from her lap. The queen took a moment to gaze at her knight, the woman with the rough and tough exterior, reduced to a panting mess with an obvious erection in her trousers.
Leona slid her palm over the woman’s clothed cock. Idla’s mouth fell open in a silent moan, she leaned back on her palms, hair cascading down her back. Idly, Leona knew she was in love with her knight, but she hadn’t really bothered to think about it until now.
Idlas trousers were easy to open, the button popped like it wanted nothing more in the world. She pulled her cock out from her pants. Hard and leaking, Leona sprang forward to lap at the tip. She hadn’t had cock in her mouth since before her marriage and she missed the weight immensely. She closed her eyes and lost herself in the sensation, bobbing up and sliding back down like it was nothing.
“Leona, my queen-fuck…” Idla moaned.
Leona was so wet she could feel it on her clothes, her head was spinning, she completely forgot they were in the middle of a field in broad daylight.
“Im enjoying this but-fuck-you’ll make me come, and I need to come inside you. Leona, please-so good-please stop so I can fuck you.”
The last sentence, selfish as the queen was, was the only thing that could get Leona to stop, the praise and the whimpering put her on the edge.
On her knees still, she waited for Idla. The woman sat forward, cock sitting between them, untouched, leaking on the grass. How could she just leave it alone? So inviting…but she listened to her knight and waited.
Idla got a hand down the front of her trousers, her fingers slipped around her wetness.
“Fuck, my queen, you really want me, don’t you?”
“I need you, need your cock, please, Idla. Please fuck me.”
Idla rubbed at her clit, steady, hard circles that had the queen panting, eyebrows scrunched together, a stupid, confused look on her face at the pleasure. Since last year, the only pleasure like this Shes received as been through her own nighttime activity.
“Youre so wet. I need to make you come, it’ll help-help with getting you pregnant.”
“Fuck, fuck me already, get me pregnant, Idla, please.”
Leona laid back, waiting to be taken. Idla pulled down her trousers, bareing her pussy to the world. She smiled, imagining the gods of her home watching her and blessing the union of their bodies.
Idla shoved her face against her mound. She could hear the woman inhale, her nose inside. Leona rocked against her, rubbing her clit against it, moaning.
Idla pulled back to lap at her soaking cunt. Wrapping her lips around her throbbing clit, she sucked, sending the queen into the stars.
“Wanna come, want to-get inside me, my knight. My protector, fuck me, save me.”
Idla lined her cock up, she was small. Well, not small, bigger than the king, enough to fuck her well. She was in love with that cock, and the woman it was attached to.
“Stop teasing me, I can’t take it, fuck a baby into me, Idla, please-“
Idla pushed in, stretching her open. The queen gasped. Idla paused, she began to play with the queens clit before she started thrusting. Soon, she was jerking her clit between index and middle finger in time with her thrusts, taking moments to rub, which felt like a cold drink of water on a sweltering day.
“Gonna come, my queen. Gonna come in you.”
“So good, Idla. Always protecting me, come in me, please, I want it.”
“Get you knocked up, watch your little tits swell, gonna have you here forever, safe in your kingdom. Gonna-gonna-“
She moaned, as she felt Idla’s seed fill her, she fell over the edge. Idlas movement on her clit stilled with her orgasm but she didn’t need it, she was already tumbling down down down, into her own tornado of pleasure. Their hips moved without prompting from either of them as they finished, finally falling together against the grass.
“Stay in me, stay in me-“
“I will, I will. I’ll stay right.”
“Stay till you get hard again.”
“Fuck you all day, I’ll fuck you all day my queen, make sure it takes, make sure my baby is in there.”
She pet the woman’s hair as she laid on top of her, a comforting weight, she was a strong, broad woman.
It wouldn’t be long until her cock stirred again. And they’d go as many times as their bodies would allow them. In a number of weeks, it would be clear that the plan worked. The king would be pleased, everyone would celebrate the queens not barren, filled womb. Her place would he secure.
But they’d keep working at it anyway, just to make sure.
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inmydeepestdreams · 6 months
Text
College is expensive, my history professor is generous.
That’s what I tell myself, anyway. That’s what I told myself five months ago, during the last semester (the one I blew my entire savings on, mind you) when I accepted his advances.
Since I was a freshman his gaze lingered. Truthfully, two weeks into freshman year I welcomed the attention. I was lonely, and when his dark eyes would catch on my breasts, I felt…pretty. I suppose. I still feel pretty. But, things have changed substantially since then.
I started wearing low cut tops or tight crop tops, that worked until fall set in. Then it was tight sweaters, and on one fateful afternoon, no bra. I chewed on my pen as I listened to his lectured, sitting up straight. The guy next to me kept sneaking looks at my chest, which also turned me on. I had been coming to thoughts of my middle aged professor all year, and well…
“Sara! Oh, good, you’re here,” he said as he entered his office. He called for me, assuming I was outside in the waiting area or something. Nope, sitting next to his desk, the dutiful assistant that I was.
“I’ll need you at the retreat this weekend,” he said. On campus, he was strictly Dr. Weatherby. That’s how I referred to him, I was a professional, after all.
“Yes. Dr. Weatherby.”
“Do you have the print outs?”
“Here,” I stood, they were on my lap, covering my legs. My uniform. It was cold today, so I had on thigh high socks with my short skirt. It wasn’t practical, at all. But I had a long coat and was hardly ever outside. And, well, he liked my thighs. I saw his gaze linger on a blue bite mark he left on my inner thigh, slightly visibly, if you were looking.
“The tests-“
“On your desk, graded. The freshman are as hopeless as ever.”
“Yes, well, that’s their nature,” he said, fixing his glasses as he pretended to looked down at the print outs.
“John and his TA will be there,” he said. What he meant to do was ask me if that was alright. He always asked, I liked that about him. For what he paid, I always said the same.
John was another history professor, around the same age as Dr. Weatherby, and aware of our situation, as was his graduate student, Sawyer, who was a bit of a dick, but what else is to be expected?
“Then I imagine it will be a productive weekend.”
Dr. Weatherby started to go on and on about documents he and John would be discussing, there was a potential translation on the table too, apparently, if another professor confirmed, but it didn’t seem like she would. Pity.
When classes end for the day, and Dr. Weatherby’s office hours are over, I’m typically still on the clock. This is when I stop with the formality, he’s just daddy, just like he’ll be this weekend, in front of John and sawyer.
“Can you make my day better? Four students asked me questions today that are basic across all faculty and outlined on the syllabus. And only two of them were freshman. Sit on my lap, please.”
My skirt spread as I straddled him, legs hanging slightly, not quite touching the floor.
“I love these,” he said, sliding his index finger under my socks. “Wear them this weekend.”
“Yes daddy.”
“You don’t have to touch the TA if you don’t want to. I know you don’t like him.”
“Thank you daddy.”
“And your bill for the semester arrived last week, it’s completely paid in full, darling.”
I kissed him, whispering thanks against his lips. After that, I slid to the floor and blew him.
-
“Yes John, I’ve pondered the ethics, as you have.”
Dr. Weatherby’s house in the mountains was beautiful, screaming wealth achieved through academia. The men had taken up in a large library, the walls a dark wood. There was a fireplace lit and small lamps scattered around, plus a less aesthetic one for the teachers to read the document in question under.
“Sara, do you have the-“
“Right here, Dr. Weatherby,” I said, sliding a drink tray beside them, three manhattans, and a martini for me.
“Sara, come on now. None of the formal shit up here.”
Sawyer, the TA, was sitting beside John, grinning widely at me, all teeth. The kind of guy I would’ve hated in every circumstance, he was just as smug as the rest of them without the power behind him.
“Sorry daddy.”
“Thats alright darling, warm up by the fire with your drink.”
I took my martini and slid into one of the leather chairs in front of the fire place. As they discussed Mesopotamia, I listened in, trying to learn something. My major was ancient studies, after all. I wasn’t just some whore.
I fixed my thigh high sock. I was wearing a grey pleated skirt, a button down, and a vest. In my hair was a headband, this was one of his favorite looks. I’m an academic whore.
“Sara,” Sawyer greeted, sitting in the chair beside me.
“Shouldnt you be working?”
“Shouldnt you?” He asked, smirking as he spread his legs and patted his thigh.
I rolled my eyes. I enjoyed sex with Dr. Weatherby, I tolerated the fumbling awkwardness of his friend John, but sawyer was always a smug bastard.
“Use the girl and get back over here, Sawyer. Maybe you’ll actually learn something.”
It was John speaking, he was going for assertive but his voice shook, still unsure of his place.
“Its alright, Sara,” Dr. Weatherby said. “Try not to ruin your clothes, and don’t get worn out before game time.”
“Ooo, game time,” sawyer mocked, I wished I poisoned his Manhattan. The fire crackled as I walked in front of him.
“Ill take a simple blowie, sugar. Wouldn’t wanna wear you out, hurt your paycheck.”
I pinched his leg hard as I slid to my knees, a pillow under them for comfort.
“You really are just some escort, aren’t you? Or are you really a student? So poor you had to spread your legs for your old professor.”
I pinched him again and opened his pants, biting my tongue.
“I was going to call you a high class whore, but you must be so poor you come from a trailer park to be doing this. Or maybe you just like it. Is that it? You like men using you? Important men, like us?”
“You think you’re important? From where I’m sitting you’re just some washed up grad student unwilling to put the work in.”
The professors were listening, apparently, because one chuckled slightly.
“From where you’re kneeling, you mean.”
His leaking cock was in my hand, so he had me there.
I hated him. He was exactly where I wanted to be, but he had the benefit of being born wealthy, a wealthy white man getting into academia? Who would’ve guessed it. I thought about saying ‘your dick is small’ but it’s average, and that seemed childish.
With one hand I dug my nails into his calve as I leaned forward and took the head in my mouth. He shut up.
The professors voiced swirled in my head as my eyes slipped closed. I bobbed on his cock, totally on autopilot as I tried to make sense of what they were saying. It was hard to learn anything when my own sloppy mouth noises echoed around me. And once, Sawyer gasped, which was unexpected. The sound went straight to my pussy, which was also unexpected, because I hate him.
“Hurry up, Sawyer, before I replace you with a student willing to learn.”
I slowed down, pausing with his dick halfway in my mouth. I looked up at him with mischief in my gaze, and by the annoyance in his, I could tell he read my mind.
“Is your girl effective or does my student have the dick of a man twice his age?” John asked Dr. Weatherby, who said nothing.
Of course, I felt a bit jilted. John’s never questioned my abilities before, not when I’ve tied him to the bed post with his satin ties and tickled his junk with a feather all night long. (That was a slow shift, but the pay was outstanding).
Anyway, when Sawyer met my eyes again, my cheeks hollow, his mouth slightly open, we somehow, became allies in this task.
I pulled off his dick and looked up at him, knowing my lips were swollen and shiny, like the tip of his cock. I grabbed him firmly and stuck out my tongue, making like I was going to lick it but not.
“Come on,” he whispered, he begged. I smirked and swallowed him whole. He came, because he never did last that long, John was just being an asshole. I swallowed his come so not to make a mess in my boss’s home.
Sawyer went to his task, I refreshed drinks. After I did that, I was allowed to sit alongside them and work. Dr. Weatherby pressed a kiss to my lips, reminding me I wasn’t a student in this place, but I could listen in if I wanted.
I soaked up as much as I could, over-eager, green in this field of study. The men looked on, amused, which made me feel disgusted but I put up with it. I was satisfied enough, I felt like I had contributed something worthwhile when Dr. Weatherby’s fingers dipped under my waistband. The night was over. For them, anyway. I knew what he wanted tonight. It was a kink we couldn’t explore all the time, but always when we’re in the country home.
John stayed in the study, it was pushing midnight but he had a book he wanted. He assured Dr. Weatherby he knew the way to his usual room.
With my professors hand on my waist, squeezing me against his body, we showed Sawyer to his room. For a moment I could imagine this was a normal thing, that I was his wife simply showing a guest to his room.
“Is Sara available tonight?” Sawyer asked, bold, unlikeable.
“No, and she isn’t yours, she isn’t even mine, if you’ll remember.”
“Of course.”
“She can say no.”
“I didn’t mean to offend you, Dr. Weatherby.” But he was offended, and he was frowning intently at the grad student, who was shuffling in place, all this rich boy arrogance snuffed out.
It’s true, I could say no. But if I don’t work, I don’t get paid. He doesn’t just pay my tuition, he always gives me cash for food, gas, my phone bill. I live in a single dorm instead of a double, when originally I was looking at going into debt for a quad. The university has no idea of these arrangements, of course. He has a separate bank account set up for the tuition payments and he sends me whatever extra I make.
I wanted to laugh in Sawyers face as my professor, my daddy, steered me away. I was flush and happy and ready to fuck him. He was quite handsome, for a man so much older than me. He had a grey mustache and his hair was nearly entirely gray. He was small in stature, just taller than me and perpetually wearing tweed. Distinguished, respected in his field.
“Fuck, I gotta do this now.”
He also has a piss kink.
He unlocked the door to our room. I didn’t love sharing a bed with him, or with anyone, but I tolerated it. Sometimes he allows me my own up here, I’m holding out hope still I’ll get to.
“Get on the bed.”
Especially because this isn’t our usual room, it’s one of the many many grand guest rooms, adjacent to where John will sleep. Sawyer is all the way down the hall, by the stairs. I hope he falls down them.
My high socks pulled as I crawled on top the deep blue velvety comforter, I plopped down, fanning my pretty, soon to be destroyed, skirt around me, my bare ass cheeks on the blanket. This room screams old money, it feels a privilege to be here. If I squint, I can pretend it’s all mine, no strings.
Of course, there’s my professor, pulling his half-hard cock out of his slacks, clutching himself tightly. Several drinks, no breaks after hours. I was in for a long shower.
“Cant hold it?” I teased, dropping my voice. I leaned back on my palms, the bed tipped slightly, my legs spread, just enough to keep decent. My vest was open, revealing a hard nipple poking through my white shirt. It would be ruined in a second. It’s fine, he bought it, after all.
“So pretty, Sara. So so pretty.” He stepped closer.
“Daddy,” I breathed, a slight beg, just to get him riled up.
It’s not that I’m not enjoying this. You have to really like sex or he really desperate to take a job like this. Both things are true for me. I had only slept with one other guy before I met the professor, but I watched enough porn to know how to make a man come. Or maybe Dr. Weatherby is easy, who’s to say.
Anyway, if you checked my panties, they would be wet, but it’s likely I won’t get an orgasm tonight unless I get myself there, and I’m probably too tired for that.
“Daddy, please.”
His mouth fell open in a silent gasp as he started to pee on me.
He started, as he always did, aiming at the front of my skirt. My legs were spread enough to pull it tight, this piss pooled there, a small clear pond, before sliding up, towards the waistband. He moved then, aiming slightly under my skirt, the tip of his cock underneath the material.
I did gasp, and it was genuine, as his hard stream hit my closed pussy, it wasn’t enough to feel good, but it was enough to make my head fuzzy. I bit my lip and moaned for him.
Once my panties were sufficiently pissed on, he stepped back and aimed at my white shirt, working to soak all the material against my torso with his hot piss.
“So warm, daddy,” I ran a hand through my hair and pushed my chest out some. He finished pissing on my tits, even after the fabric was soaked and transparent, he continued, eyeing my flesh through the garment. He wouldn’t have me take it off after this, he was always the same.
He came, shooting his load on me. Ropes of come landed mostly on my stomach and my skirt. He wasn’t even rubbing himself through, he just got so worked up from the piss stuff that I was easy for him. Truthfully, I found it hot as fuck, I was always aching after.
But I was tired. The bed was ruined. He had spent a ridiculous amount a year on mattresses. As I stood, his pee ran down my legs, making a small puddle on the floor. For a moment, all we did was listen to our breathing and the piss dripping.
I kissed him, but he didn’t like to touch me after, because I was gross. And yes, I was, I was covered in another persons piss and jizz.
He handed me a key, it was to the room across the hall. It was grander then this one, second only to his.
He gave me a plastic garbage bag for my clothes. I went straight to the hall bathroom. For this wonderful estate, it’s historic, so there’s only a bathroom in the upstairs hall and off the downstairs kitchen, near an old stone hearth.
There were clothes waiting for me in there, stacked up, and I’d have money to replace these ones. He wanted them thrown out rather than cleaned every time, I think it’s so people don’t find out. I get it, it’s embarrassing.
My pussy was aching tremendously. So much so that i grabbed myself in the darkened hallway, still in my wet clothes, and rubbed over the soaked material.
But in the bathroom, I was all business. Bagging up the clothes, I took a hot shower, my eyes lids drooped, it was late as fuck, I was way too tired to make myself come.
I wrapped my hair up in towel and slid on the standard pajamas he bought me. Sometimes it’s all silk nightgowns or underthings, but it’s winter and he’s done with me for the evening.
I dropped the plastic bag down the old laundry hatch. There, done.
“Was that Dr. Weatherby’s body parts?”
I jumped. Despite earlier having his cock in my mouth, I covered my brakes chest and glared at Sawyer, who was still awake.
“You guys were quiet, if you even had sex. Someone might replace you.”
“After the job yourself?”
“I have standards.”
I flipped him off and went to my room.
“You don’t strike me as the tkme of girl to come quietly.”
I pushed my key in the lock, ignoring him.
“That means he didn’t make you come. You can’t do this job all night without so much as a touch and not get wet. Bet you’re aching for it, aren’t you?”
He was right beside me.
“What? Now you wanna fuck me? In the dark, without them knowing? You wanna pretend like us having sex isn’t like me fucking them? Like it’s not transactional? I’m here for a reason, I know that reason. You can try to shame me all you want, but you’re just coming off as a small minded asshole. You’re the one close to being replaced.”
I slammed my bedroom door. I stood there, listening for his footsteps retreating.
He grinned, not bothering to flip on the light, I starfished on the big, beautiful bed. Feather pillows, fancy mattress, the good life.
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inmydeepestdreams · 7 months
Text
The lights were out, that was, of course, on purpose.
My eyes were not adjusting to the blackness, it was swirling and empty. Panic creeped up my spine. The room was warm, warm and full. I was not alone in there and never would be.
I took a step forward, shivering slightly. I was dressed somewhat, a gift for whoever found me first. My cock was hard, pressing against my skirt. My long hair was pinned up in a ponytail. My ass was cold where my friends hand (which still had lube on their fingertips) slapped me and then shut off the lights.
A floorboard creaked in front of me. Panic made my breath catch, I heard someone nearby chuckle deeply, and then there were hands on my body.
I couldn’t see who the people were. I was told there would be five or six, my friend hadn’t specified when they prepared me earlier, I guess I didn’t want to know. It was my birthday, this was my present.
The stranger was taller than me, they grabbed my ponytail and yanked me back. I gasped, nearly falling. I fell into a firm chest, my hand landed on their crotch, I could feel their arousal through what felt like slacks. My eyes widened, I imagined him, for the sake of the fantasy, to be my boss, even though I know that wasn’t possible.
“Caught the birthday girl,” he announced to the room, his voice was deep, gravely. There were cheers accompanied by laughter. I pushed against him, but he held firm. “Now now, I think it’s time for some birthday spankings.”
The room I was in was my friends studio apartment, it was a large (large is relative, of course) open space, perfect for this sort of scenario. And despite the fact that I had been in here many times before, I could not get my bearings.
My knee high socks made the floors slippery as I was dragged. The grip on my hair did not cease, but there were two strong hands on my waist pulling me. I whimpered, I begged. They laughed, mocking me.
Bent over what could only be the kitchen counter, I had a hand pressing firm on my back, keeping me in place. He was a Looking presence beside me, a really big guy, strong enough to hold me down while the other guy behind me gripped my hair with one hand, with the other, he cracked it over my ass.
With the second slap, he pulled my skirt up, he rubbed and groped my flesh, he complimented the roundness of my ass. Then, mroe hands. I couldn’t count the sets, all reviewing my butt, comparing it to past fucks.
“Count, birthday girl,” one said.
There were tears that ran all the way down my neck by the time we got to twenty-four. My ass was raw but numb at the same time, he didn’t hold back, I was ruined.
The front of my skirt was sticky with precome, i was a whimpering, whiny mess. Relief rushed me when he finally let my scalp rest. They all backed off, slowly I slid off the counter and onto the floor. I could feel them around me, taking a breather in the darkness.
“Just where we want you, princess,” said someone else, someone with an accent that id recognize if I knew them. A total stranger, god, that was hot.
Somehow, I knew his cock was near me, waiting. I groped around in the dark, brushing someone’s jeans before I found it. Girthy but short, I wrapped my hand around it and leaned forward, sliding onto my knees was natural. My head was swimming, it was filled with rushing water. My eyes stayed closed, as they were practically useless.
A pressed a kiss to the tip as someone grabbed my right hand. The strange man was on my left, a smaller hand held my right. Then, slowly, it guided me along until I felt the hot wetness of a pussy. I hadn’t heard anyone speak but the two men since we started, I was thrilled.
As I slid my tongue along his shaft, I allowed her to slide two of my fingers into her pussy. She was wet, it was easy. I wondered if I could fuck her, I wondered who she was, who they all were.
I was too numb to multitask, I was a fumbling, useless mess. I could hardly focus on one task. The pussy allowed me to play with it poorly, sliding my fingers in and out and rubbing the clit when I remembered I was multitasking. The penis seemed unbothered by a sloppy blowjob, one with little precision or finesse.
My cock was throbbing, I was crying again, I needed to be touched, I needed it now. I needed to be fucked, I needed it an hour ago.
Without warning, he came in my mouth. I was nearly pulled off, it sprayed on my lips and my tongue, dripping out on my chin, I felt it shoot all over my face.
I didn’t wait for it to finish, I turned towards the woman and buried myself in her pussy.
She was on the floor, she got on the floor. She was laying back. Head down, ass in the air, I lapped at her, her moans were so sexy, and I was so focused, I hardly noticed my skirt being lifted again.
I did notice, of course, a cock entering my ass.
I paused, gasping as the stranger pushed in. I said, “finally” into the pussy.
She pushed my head down.
“I think we should make her come once every year of her age,” someone said.
The guy fucking me replied, I could tell it was him because of the proximity. I wrapped my lips around her swollen clit, I was going to come soon.
“Fuck, that’s good, that’s so good princess,” she said, her hand in my hair.
“She won’t make it, no. I think we should make her make us come every year of her age. She can manage that, right? Twenty four orgasms over the night? You are just for our pleasure, after all. And look, you’ve already got one.”
“Move, I want her to come inside me.”
And so it happened, the woman under me, I sandwiched between her and the man. Truly he was doing all the work. As soon as my cock slipped inside her slippery wetness, I moaned so loud it echoed, I nearly came right away.
He was hitting the spot over and over, and she felt so good. She kissed me, we moaned into each others mouths. My orgasm was coming.
He cracked his hand over my no doubt bruised ass, I cried out. Suddenly, somehow, there was another penis, it poked my cheek. I reached out and gripped it, hardly stroking as pleasure racked through my body. The person under me shuddered, bucking up while the guy fucking my ass buried deep, gripping my hips roughly. The kitchen was a mess of noises of pleasure, distantly, I felt the cock in my hand twitch, ropes of come landed in my hair.
He pulled out first, I felt empty and useless. I fully intended to stay down there on floor and take cock for the rest of the night. I didn’t want to be empty, not for a second.
But hands pulled me up, my cock softening, off the person on the floor. I was carried, half delirious, out of what I figure was the kitchen and thrown onto my friends bed. New bedding was bought for the occasion and would be thrown out after. I loved my friends.
“Twenty more to go, birthday girl.”
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inmydeepestdreams · 7 months
Text
The carpenter was trying hard to be productive.
She was trying so, so hard. But something…
She moaned, kneeling down in the garden, she pulled old plants up by the roots. Her legs were pressed together, and she was horny enough that the pressure from that sent sparks through her body.
She grit her teeth, visibly frustrated. Both with her predicament and in general. She must be ovulating or something, because this…she started her day coming on her vibrator three times. That was only five hours ago now. She can’t think about anything else. Her mouth waters at the thought of sucking cock, her pussy is so wet she’s already gone through a pair of underwear. They cling uncomfortably, she’s gonna have to change them again.
She pulled up more weeds. The decrepit garden bed was at least looking empty rather than haunted.
Haunted. God.
It was her ghost. Her sex ghost hallucination. She moved to the country alone and was so lonely and horny she’s developed a mental illness. Christ, she hoped he’d come around.
Her phone in her back pocket vibrated. A text from her boyfriend, talking about his shitty coworker, and how much he missed her. She tried to feel guilty as she craved sex with another man. Or, ghost. Either way, she failed.
She sighed, closing her eyes and leaned back, still on her knees, which were muddy and cold against the ground. She was way out in the country away from anyone. She’d see a visitor coming from a mile away, not that anyone knew to visit. That’s why she felt comfortable enough to grab herself over her jeans, her dirty gloves still on.
She bounced on her hand, not that that normally did anything. But this wasn’t normal. She felt it acutely, it was gorgeous. She felt her bra strap fall down her arm, turning her attention to her tits, which hadn’t been played with in months.
She was rapid, foolish, horny. She took off her shirt and tossed it, along with her bra. Her pussy throbbed as she looked down at her bare tits, and the surrounding open space. Anyone could see her, in theory.
Her gloves left a dirt print on her chest as she squeezed her left breast, rubbing her thumb over her hard nipple. It was a cold day but she could hardly feel it. The goosebumps on her skin were entirely from pleasure. Maybe this is what she needed, some risky public (ish) masterbation to satiate her needs.
“Mm,” she moaned, enjoying taking it slow, she continued to rub herself over her pants and imagined long fingers inside her. Her boyfriend, or the ghost hand-
And, there he was.
Naked, of course. Strong legs, thighs like an athlete, hard cock level with her face. She looked up, hoping for features this time. No such luck, although, he did have an entire chest and torso. She grabbed him by the hip and pulled him so he was in front of her. She wasn’t afraid anymore, just incredibly horny, and she wanted to suck his cock again.
He had arm, he put his fingers in her hair as she pushed the tip into her mouth, ruining her pinned up style. She began to run her hand up and down his length, meeting no resistance, as she took in a little a time, swirling her tongue around his twitching length.
Suddenly, she was pushed off. Backwards, she fell.
Quickly, she propped herself up on her elbows and looked at him. Well, looked at his cock. She unbuttoned her pants.
He continued to stand there and watch her. Well, watch, maybe. He was a headless ghost after all.
She slid her jeans down around her ankles before awkwardly kicking them off. He didn’t react, still.
Slowly, she slid off the glove of her right hand. Completely naked outside she was growing quite chilly and she hoped he would cover her soon.
She pushed her hand into her ruined panties, they must have been visibly wet, because when she spread her legs, he grabbed his cock and started stroking himself.
The carpenter rubbed circles around her clit for a minute, getting off on sex with a stranger outside. She needed him, she needed to be fucked. And, once again, he knew exactly what she needed.
One quick motion, possibly teleportation, and he was over her, ripping her panties down until they caught on her ankles. He stopped, possibly staring at her pussy, she didn’t know.
He backed up. With one hand, he groped at her chest, she wished he could suck on her nipples, but alas. No, instead it was two fingers inside her, pumping in an out and the occasional clumsy rub of his thumb on her clit.
It could be clumsy, it didn’t matter, she was coming in seconds, hard, gushing her juices all over his hand as she moaned.
“Still need it,” she said a minute later when he was still there, his cock was still hard and delicious, and she was still, somehow, horny.
He grabbed her ass, lifting her hips as he pulled her closer to him. Her head hit the ground. He took s second to ball up her jeans and put them under her head. The kind act was suddenly overwhelming and she felt tears in her eyes.
“Fuck me,” she didn’t know, like, should she ask him to wear a condom? Could he give her a disease? A baby? Surely not. Nothing came out of him when she sucked him off before. Nothing to worry about-
“Oh fuck!” She gasped as he pushed in, only partially, pausing. He was suddenly bigger than she remembered. Much bigger, impossibly bigger, like he grew himself for her. She had just had that dick in her mouth a few minutes ago, she knew how big it was. This was, this was impossible. But then again, so was everything.
“Oh, oh fuck me, please,” she begged as he still sat there, half inside. She felt it so intensely, sex without a rubber was so enticing, so dangerous, so incredible. He felt warm and real and possible, she hoped it wasn’t all in her head because she loved him.
“Fuck me, please fuck me, please-“
He listened to her, always happy to please. He thrust all the way in, her legs in the air, a wide, wild look on her face. She scrambled for purchase on his back as he pulled out only to set a pace that had her consistently crying out, half brain dead, eyes wide and vacant, focused on the white sky as she listened to the wet squelching of her pussy being fucked.
He groped at her body, her ass, her tits, smacking them because it made her smile. As if reading her mind, he put two fingers into her mouth, her eyes rolled back in her head as she started sucking them, grateful at the task.
She was so enveloped in the pleasure that there was no way she’d notice if anyone came up the path, not even in car. And what would they see? The owner of the house naked, sucking on something, her pussy stretched open and noticeable as something invisible rocked into her? Or would they see the transparent lover?
Her orgasm racked her as she thought about the townspeople coming up to see this strange and impossible act, lining up to watch her get fucked over and over by a spirit. She sucked hard on the ghosts fingers and felt him twitch inside her as her walls contracted, pulling him tighter, closer. It was so much, so so much. Not enough and too much.
And then it was over. He had come too, again, she felt the ghost of his come inside her but knew there would be nothing. He stayed inside for a moment, chest heaving, as if he really did have to catch his breath.
He slowly pulled out, she felt every inch leave her until she was whimpering, missing it. She felt cold.
He pulled her panties up for her, smacking her pussy lightly, playfully, making her jump. He dropped her shirt and her bra on her stomach and paused, standing there to look down at her (presumably). She got the sense he wanted to say something.
She had never seen his cock soft until that moment, it felt strangely intimate. Above them, a bird cawed a warning, and he was gone.
She didn’t bother to dress herself, she just went right inside to the shower, feeling herself grow needy once again, she hoped she would see him once mroe before the day was out.
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inmydeepestdreams · 7 months
Text
Sundays were for laying around.
My boyfriend, Tom, and I were woke up promptly at 8. Our jobs forced us to wake up at 5 every morning, so 8am was the most we could sleep in.
It was a rainy, cold October day. Tom made us coffee with French vanilla creamer. We sat at the table, the Sunday paper came, we shared it. We only spoke a few words at a time. We were in love, we went through the motions seamlessly.
I didn’t have a shirt on when I woke up, so I put on one of toms sweaters, it was brown, soft. He was wearing a hoodie over sweatpants, I was shivering but the coffee was helping. Rain pattered the kitchen window. We were five floors up in our apartment. Our neighbors dog was barking faintly below us.
We got back in bed. Tom brought half the kitchen in there with us so we didn’t have to get up. Sundays were for laying around, and my eyes were already drooping.
His nightstand was a mini fridge. He produced guacamole and two waters from it. We started with the newest season of the Walking Dead.
I lay with my head on his chest, his heart beat was comforting. My eyes slipped shut, I was napping by 11.
After the walking dead, we watched YouTube. We shared a container of cold Chinese takeout. He fed me a forkful of noodles. We giggled when one fell off onto the comforter.
At one, he was asleep. I pushed closer, wrapped my arms around his torso, threw my leg over his, and went to sleep.
When I woke up, I felt the leg of pants warm.
I stayed still as I realized it was wetness I was feeling. Wetness against my leg, but not from me, from Tom.
He was still sleeping, his breathing was even, he looked peaceful as he wet the bed.
I didn’t move, I was extremely comfortable. His accident spread, soaking down the leg of pants and what I imagined to be the mattress below.
He was awake by the end, visibly upset, and trying to get up.
“Oh god, oh fuck-“
“Shh, comfy,” I said, snuggling closer, burying my head into his chest like I knew he liked.
“Baby, babe, I need to get up, change the sheets-“
“Warm. No. Sunday for bedtime.” I whined like a child.
“Please, I peed myself. The stain-“
I pushed down on my bladder. I snuck a hand down to grab my dick and I pointed it at his thigh, in a dry area. I didn’t have to go so bad, but once i tried, it came right out.
The front of pajamas soaked instantly. It was insanely warm and nice, I felt it pool there for a second before seating new territory, my boyfriends pants.
“You cant, why are you-“
I was still peeing when I burrowed even closer. He didn’t push me away.
“Laying around,” I said in a tired voice.
I didn’t pee as much as him, his accident was real, but it had the effect I wanted it too. He was no longer embarrassed. We’ve both ruined the bed, both our pants were wet.
In wet pants, we watched reruns of the office. He provided us sodas from the mini fridge and the sheets never grew cold, because of our body heat and blankets.
He sat with his back against the headboard, I sat in between his legs, feeling his cock press against my back. It was after five, meaning it was about time for lazy, romantic sex and a shared shower, the climax of a day in bed.
Instead, I felt the back of my sweater-toms sweater-warm.
He gasped and grabbed my hips, pulling me closer.
It was hot this time, because it was his choice. My mouth fell open as I felt the accident flow from down my back to the dip in the bed, pooling around my ass. I felt myself grow hard in my pants.
“Feel good?” I asked, I wondered if this would be a new lazy Saturday tradition, I hoped it would be.
“Mhm. Still tired,” he said, and he sounded it. We both worked really hard this week, which had extended into midday Saturday.
On our sides, facing each other, we had our hands down each others pants, rubbing our cocks in tandem. His eyes were closed, like he was in a meditative state.
His cock was still wet with pee, the front of his pants were still wet against my hand. I was less neat than him, driven mad by the events of the day. We were both too tired for anything more than this.
His rhythm was flawless, I wanted to throw it off.
I focused intently, rubbing my thumb over the slit as I pictured myself standing over a toilet. I could command my body to piss my pants, it was my body after all.
I gasped, a bit dribbled out. Nothing substantial, god, it was hard to get started. If Tom noticed, he didn’t say anything, the bastard.
He was leaking come all over my hand, he was gonna finish soon. I had to piss myself before that.
I tried again, I imagined a toilet, shutting my eyes, I let myself slip away-
My eyes shut open as pee spurted out of my dick, onto toms hand.
He faltered for a moment, shocked. I sighed and continued to release a small, steady stream, soaking the inside of my pants yet again. It was more than earlier, much, much more. I wet and wet and wet, it was heady, I was obsessed.
And Tom played with my cock the whole way through. Before I was even finished, Tom bucked into my hand and came with a low groan. I stroked him all the way through, covering my hand in his come.
“Come on, baby, the pants are already soiled.”
They would no doubt have to be thrown away. I finished pissing myself for the second time that day, only to come harder than I had in weeks. My eyes rolled back in my head, I cried out and slumped forward, against Tom, as the aftershocks had my hips stuttering forward.
As we laid in a mixture of piss and come, I wondered if I could persuade Tom to sit in it further and add to the stains all night long.
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inmydeepestdreams · 8 months
Text
Pedro laughed.
He did that a lot, actually. Always cockily, or loftily. He was eternally sure of himself. To a fault, according to his exes.
The weekly game with her friends had ended abruptly when one of the guys lost all his money in the first game. He didn’t bring a lot, and he was a horrifically had poker player. He was also a little drunk, like the rest of them. They’d been pounding beers and showed no signs of stopping.
The friend that lost, Rick, suggested a new wager. As they’d all been pounding beers, they each had a bladder rapidly filling. No one’s gone upstairs to the bathroom because the hosts wife was up there with her friends, and they ordered a strict girls night.
The wager made Pedro laugh like he was king of the world. Piss holding contest? First of all, what was this? College? Second of all, Pedro’s the biggest, toughest (and best looking) of all his friends. They didn’t stand a chance.
Money was bet, each man had a new beer. They eyed each other before delving into the usual topics. Wives, husbands, families, work. They listened (or, half listened) as one guy told them all about their latest tropical vacation.
Pedro shuffled on his seat, finding a more comfortable position, resting his leg with his ankle on his knee, his boot pointed towards Rick, was confidently man-spreading on his chair, looking gleefully at Pedro.
“Losing already?”
Pedro rolled his eyes. That wasn’t going to happen. He was tough. Four years ago, he held his bladder through twelve hours of Disney land with his family, only to have a magnificent piss in the hotel bathroom. He could handle two hours and six beers.
(Well, he just cracked the fifth, but he didn’t think it would go longer than six).
Within thirty minutes, Shawn, the host, tapped out and went upstairs. Then the guys got stuck on a conversation about the upcoming mayoral election, which they seemed to have conflicting opinions about. (Rick passionately began to protest that all elections were inherently rigged. As annoying as Rick was, Pedro found him pleasantly distracting.
And hour and a half later, the others in the basement all tapped out and went pee. Rick even went until he was holding his dick, which made the other guys cringe.
Everyone, afterword, agreed they didn’t want to go home yet, it was still early, there was still plenty of beer to drink.
And Pedro was still holding, not for any reason other than not wanting to make pleasantries with the upstairs ladies.
“Still holding, Pedro?”
“I don’t have to go,” he said, shrugging all cool and casual like.
The others scoffed and said things like “this guy,” or “yeah right.”
Pedro leaned back in the seat with his legs spread, his loose blue jeans stretched across his crotch as he crossed his arms over his chest, the corner of his mouth was turned up smugly as he gazed at his poker buddies.
“I bet a hundred bucks dickhead here can’t go until midnight.”
Hundred bucks? That was only two and a half hours. Easy.
“Id take that bet, but only if he agrees to continue drinking like we are.”
Hmm, did he need the money? No, he was rich and his family reaped the rewards. But did he like sticking it to his dopey friends?
Pedro smiled.
In the backyard, the host started a campfire. It was a fall night, Pedro was wearing a flannel but he was plenty warm. He sipped his beer as the guys shot the shit. One of them was going through a pretty gnarly divorce, Pedro felt for him and was glad he didn’t have to worry about that kind of thing anymore. He and his wife were solid.
“Have another, man,” a cold beer, wet from the cooler was pressed into his dry palm. He almost dropped it, the sudden cold made his bladder feel ten times smaller.
He ignored the sensation, knowing what he could hold. He took the beer.
The night wore on. Beer, beer, beer, until Pedro was finally buzzed. He had a hell of a tolerance and was a big guy.
It was quite chilly, but the fire was warm and he was a natural furnace. He could definitely survived if stranded in the woods, he thought.
“Here, shot gun this one,” Rick said, already making a hole in the can.
His bladder wavered, he chuckled, sounding smug not worried. He wasn’t worried, he was slightly annoyed, but not worried.
“What the fuck? Are we nineteen.” All the guys were hovering in their early forties, he hadn’t shotgunned a beer since college.
Pedro didn’t step down from challenges, though. He took the beer, popping the tab. Swiftly, he stood as he chugged down the icy liquid.
He felt every drop hit his overly filled bladder. Like a steady stream flowing into an already flooded lake. His capacity was closely met.
He through down the can and held up his arms in triumph, the guys ignored his showboating. One tried to shotgun too but ended up snorting the beer through his nose. It was quite funny.
When he sat back down, he felt his beer filled bladder move with him. He kept his legs spread and his hands visible. He was fine. A bit uncomfortable, but fine. So what if sweat was beading under his collar? Or if it felt like all his piss rushed to the head of his cock, ready to dribble out?
“Seriously dude, how?” Shawn asked as he finished another beer, it was almost nauseating at that point. Most of the guys were so drunk their wives would have to come get them, Pedro was just relaxed.
“Bladder of steel,” he bragged, pretending to knock against his lower abdomen. The guys laughed. The joke touch, however, actually put extra pressure on the organ. He didn’t move, he refused to show weakness. His confidence did not waver.
Half an hour and one last beer later, it was midnight. The guys were getting cabs home, and Pedro was collecting several hundred dollars.
“Nice doing business with you gentleman.” He laughed, waving their money in their disappointed, drunk faces.
He started to walk away, his house was only three blocks away, he’d walk.
“Dont you want to use the bathroom first?” Shawn asked, nodding towards the house.
He looked at the doors, his bladder tightened. Yes, he thought, I would.
“Nah, I’m good. Don’t really have to go just yet. See you all later.”
He grinned at their faces which were filled with annoyance. He headed out on his way.
When his sneakers his hard sidewalk instead of grass, the danger he was in was quite clear. Anyone else would run back to the house and use the toilet. Not Pedro, he shrugged at the desperation the racked him. He was forty-four years old, he could make it three blocks. His bladder was tough as nails, a little beer won’t do any harm.
He whistled as he walked, the block nearly finished, he felt, once again, piss rush to the tip of his cock.
He stopped at a cross walk, there was a car passing, they waited for him. He walked in front of them, making sure to look normal. It’s good that he did, too, as it was one of his friends in an Uber.
He continued, walking faster, with a longer stride. Again, he was being attacked by his bladder. It felt like an enormous amount of piss was gathering, ready to push itself out. Still, Pedro scoffed, certain he’d be fine. So he’d use the downstairs bathroom instead of the upstairs, if it was so serious. He smiled to himself.
Pedro was genuinely confident he would not wet his pants. He was confident right up until his shoes were filled and squelched, and his jeans were wet and shiny front to back.
It all poured out of him at once, halting his power walk instantly. Beside a stop sign, under a streetlight, grown man, bladder of steel, toughest, most confident guy Pedro began to wet his pants like a child.
He whimpered. Which was not something Pedro did. Pedro, if making any sound, only made manly grunts. He did not whimper.
But he did. He did whimper, and then clamped a hand over his mouth as he filled his pants with pee.
It happened so fast, so damn fast. One minute was dry, the next it was like he got caught in a rainstorm.
His right leg grew wet down to the ankle first. He squeezed his legs together, and his cock, seeking further real estate to embarrass him with, soaked the other leg thoroughly and completely, until little drops darkened the sidewalk under him.
To his horror, he moaned. Moaned like his wife when he played with her clit just right. The relief. God. The emptying. He swore he felt his bladder breathe. He felt it sag, relax.
He peed for nearly two minutes, until his jeans were so dark you’d think they came that way. They were thoroughly and completely filled with his pee. The manifestation of his arrogance spilled out right there under a streetlight. Where anyone could see him.
But they didn’t. It was after midnight, he was close to home. When he was sure he was finished, he allowed himself two extra seconds of shock before he jogged home. Which was quite difficult in his soggy pants, which clung in strange places.
He stashed the jeans where he was sure they wouldn’t be found. The next day, he would throw them out at a gas station or something, and they would never speak of this. And if Pedro’s pride should possess him again, he will remember the accident he had in his pants in public.
Only not, because it’s just a one time thing, he’s a grown man, after all.
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inmydeepestdreams · 8 months
Text
Gianna was positively giddy as she scanned her items at the self checkout. Another successful shopping trip. As her hand touched the cold bottle of pineapple juice, she grinned. A month ago, she found this particular brand on accident and became totally and completely obsessed.
It was a large bottle, the kind meant to be shared by a family. But Gianna couldn’t wait, she needed it, she hadn’t had any in two days and she missed it. She cracked it open in the front seat of her SUV and held it without both hands while she drank deeply from the bottle, stopping only when she couldn’t breathe.
By the time she got home, only half of the massive jug was left.
It was late, after grocery shopping, she treated herself to a fast food dinner, which she ate in the parking lot, sipping between in her soda (which was included in the meal price, and she couldn’t waste money like that) and her pineapple juice, which was of course, what she really wanted.
She put away her groceries and sighed, rubbing the back of her neck as she stood at the kitchen counter. She was tired and grateful she was wearing (mostly) comfortable clothes. She breathed a sigh of relief as she unclipped her bra and dropped it on the floor. She loved living alone.
She poured pineapple juice in her massive reusable metal water bottle (cold all day!) and promptly laid on the couch, ready to continuing binging the lame comedy show she’s been obsessed with.
Her bladder filling, in all of this. But the bathroom was upstairs, and when she pressed her legs together, she hardly felt it.
She sipped from her bottle, laying sideways and not spilling a drop. It was a skill, truly.
One episode turned into another, the bottle was over half gone, and Gianna had a hand pressed against her pussy.
She bit her lip and clicked next episode, she sipped from her bottle and shoved her hand deeper against her sweatpants, pressing her legs together tighter. She ached after a long work day, she was not climbing those stairs until bed time. It was only just nearing nine, and it was Friday night. No bed time.
Another episode. Gianna wiggled back and forth, getting a little thrill out of moving her hand against her clothed pussy. The pressure was quiet nice, actually. She found she liked pressing closer, harder, she would have to touch herself before bed, no doubt. She did every night, after all.
She indulged in the rest of her bottle. She turned onto her back as the TV blared, closing her eyes, she held it up above her and sucked down the rest of the sugary goodness.
Her bladder throbbed, as did her pussy. Within ten minutes, the flavor of the juice was gone off her tongue. More. She needed more.
Mmm, but she was so comfy, and she snaked a hand into her pants, clutching herself over her underwear. Only then did she slide two fingers into her wet pussy and press with the heel of her hand. She moaned slightly, not moving, just holding.
She clutched her bladder, she was trembling, enjoying it a little, like it was the brink of an orgasm.
She folded in half, laughing deeply at a stupidly funny line delivery from the show. She held herself a bit tighter and felt herself almost pee. She didn’t, though. The joke faded as she watched, but yeah, more juice.
She took her hand out of herself and ignored her wet fingers as she pulled herself off the couch to the kitchen, not bothering to pause the show. She also ignored her bladder, which felt sort of weak like a pinched off hose, destined to break free. Well, it would come out eventually, when she went upstairs, to her bathroom.
She filled her bottle again until there was only a drop left in the bottle. Damn, she would have to go to the store again and get two bottles. She finished what was left in the bottle, eyes rolling back in her head at the sour, sugary drink. She left the bottle on the counter and went back to the couch.
Her legs were wrapped together tightly. Another episode. She sipped more from her bottle and found herself grinding forward slightly, on nothing, but her legs were slightly closer to her pussy, and it felt nice.
Wow, did it feel nice. Her bladder was rolling like the ocean. She chugged from her bottle.
She could not get enough of the juice. As she drank more, another hilarious moment happened in the show. She almost spit the juice but managed to swallow it as she was enveloped in scream laughter.
Oh.
Her pants were warm.
She grabbed herself, cutting off her giggling but still smiling. Yeah, her pants were a little warm. Huh. What are the odds?
She groped at the couch under her, it was dry. It all caught on the front of her pants, then. She indulged in imagining the wet spot, no doubt it would be hilarious, but she didn’t get up to check.
Well, the couch was fine, and she felt slightly better. So.
Another episode, it was getting late, her eyelids were heavy, it was closer to bed time. Her bottle was nearly empty and her bladder felt worse than when she pissed her pants.
“Not gonna wet myself,” Gianna said, and then she finished her pineapple juice. She dropped the bottle on the floor and pressed both her hands against her crotch. Ten more minutes of the show, then she would go up.
She rocked back and forth, her breathing was coming heavy, she was sweating, and the wetness on her panties and sweatpants was making her feel strange. The taste of pineapple remained on her tongue and she mourned the loss of it. First thing, a trip to the supermarket. Three bottles this time, or four.
Just then, the main guy said something half funny, something that would normally only cause a little giggle from Gianna.
She snorted, then rolled onto her back and laughed, fully body laughs.
Once again, her pants were growing damp.
Oh.
She stood, as it wasn’t stopping that time. She got off the couch and made it four steps, beside the sofa, still near the glowing TV.
She could hear the hissing during a quiet moment in the show. She took her hands away and bent over, watching as the pee she felt escaping her body glistened against her pants. They darkened, lines of pee ran down her legs in little rivers. She felt her bottom soak, it was warm and sweet, she pressed her hand to her ass.
She was properly humiliated, but as she pressed the warm wetness against her, as she continued to soak her clothes, knowing she could now stop and control herself, she knew she enjoyed it.
She bit back a smile as the puddle at the floor soaked into her socks. She refrained from splashing in it, knowing it was in poor taste, as she was wetting herself as a grown woman, mere steps from her fully functioning bathroom.
Gianna’s thighs were clinging to the dripping material by the time she was finished. Laughing, she smacked her ass, the sound of the wet material made her bite her lip and do it again.
She had serious clean up to do. Whatever. As she mopped at the floor, naked from the waist down, she made plans to drive to the supermarket near her house in the morning. Nothing was going to keep her from her beloved drink.
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inmydeepestdreams · 8 months
Text
The carpenter couldn’t stop thinking about the ghost hand.
The morning after, she reluctantly peered up through the hole in the floor into the attic. There were no signs of spirit activity.
And as she patched up the floor and worked on various other repairs, there were no other signs. At least, nothing listed on a paranormal research website she searched after panicking about ghost sex. There were no other figures or sounds or smells. The house was quiet, and it made old house noises. Nothing out of the blue, nothing she hadn’t encountered in her career before.
A week after the sex, she decided it couldn’t have been real. It must have been a dream, she must be confused. There was no way a disembodied ghost hand gave her the strongest orgasm of her life. There was no way ghosts existed. Period.
After deciding that, getting on was much simpler.
“My boss needs me through the quarter,” her boyfriend said, excusing himself on his duties. He wasn’t obligated to make such a big move, of course. It’s just that he said he would, and that he spoke to his boss about working remotely, and that they were going to start looking at rings together. Now she was unsure and miserable about it.
“What about working remotely? I thought she supported that.”
“She does, she just wants me here as we transition. It won’t be another month. Three weeks at most, baby. I’m sorry.”
She frowned, laying back on her bed. The box springs squeaked. She squeezed her eyes shut, imagining his face and remembering she loved him.
“No, yeah, I get it. Three weeks is nothing, right?”
“Right, hey, I gotta go but I’ll call you tomorrow, alright?”
He was cancelling their evening attempt at phone sex, then. Well they usually weren’t very good anyway. What they had in person barely transferred to remote.
“Love you.”
“Love you too.”
She sighed as she hung up. She dropped her phone. With her other hand, she reached down and began to rub herself over her denim overalls. They were shorts, quite stylish and all her actual shorts were dirty.
All day, she thought about sucking him off. All. Day. She’s just felt a bit down, lonely, and when she’s sad, the carpenter likes to give head. Sue her, alright?
She couldn’t just say that over the phone, though. Or, she could, but the vibe was off. And it’s not like she could actually suck him off, so it would just make her more upset to pretend.
She kept her eyes shut as she lazily rubbed her pussy over her shorts. She wasn’t really getting much, but she wanted some friction.
Her vibrator was under her pillow, because she was alone out there and didn’t have to hide anything from anyone. She didn’t feel like undoing her clasps, so she turned it on medium and put it over her clothes.
That was nice. A lot nicer than her hand. She whimpered and kicked her lips, imagining the taste as she slid her tongue against his head. She loved when he did the work for her, when she could go slack and he would use her. It was so simple, so relaxing. She imagined him tapping the head against her lips, like he often did-
Her eyes shot open.
She felt it. She actually felt it. The tip poking at her bottom lip.
She turned onto her side and saw…well. Fuck.
There’s no denying what she saw.
Half a man. Actually. Half a body, half a person. Transparent, she could see her open bedroom door through him. He was part of a torso, legs, and a hard cock. He was half a ghost, and he somehow knew her desires.
She thought she start being concerned about a possible episode, surely this wasn’t real.
Her mouth watered at the sight of the hard cock, it was long with a defined mushroom head, not unlike her boyfriends, meaning this could be all in her head.
She didn’t care. Her vibrator continued to buzz, ignored, as she turned onto her stomach and beckoned him closer. He was standing aside, waiting for instructions, apparently.
He took a few steps (actual steps) towards her until she could get a hand around his dick. It was a firm grip, tangible, she didn’t pass right through him like in movies. He was warm and twitched in her hand, like a human.
Her vibrator, ignored, had fallen between her legs under her as she lapped hungrily at the tip, a little crazed, a little desperate. It wasn’t in a great spot, but when she grinded against it, she could get the pleasure she wanted. More than anything, though, she wanted cock in her mouth.
She wished she could hear him moan as she pumped her hand up and down the length, focusing all her attention on the head.
She traced the head with her tongue and she felt him shudder, it was so fucking hot.
She moved closer, lowering herself on his cock. He thrust forward, just slightly, she wanted him to fuck her mouth, but he was letting her run the show.
She imagined the way her boyfriend would grip her hair, pulling it as he thrust down into her throat, she moved lower. The pressure of the vibrator suddenly hit a perfect spot, she moaned against his cock, she could come just from this, vibrator barely touching her clit and her mouth sloppy on ghost dick.
She grabbed his legs, his thighs felt firm, and pulled him closer, pushing the dick in until it hit the back of her throat. She gagged, only slightly, eyes rolling back in her head.
If he wasn’t gonna fuck her throat she would do it herself.
Like a woman possessed, she bobbed up and down swiftly, sloppy, disgustingly obscene sucking noises filled the room. She reached down to play with his balls, which felt just as real as the rest of him.
Spit dripped off her chin and onto the front of her shirt, her panties were so wet she could feel them. She worked harder, faster, chasing her approaching orgasm. She cried out around his cock as she got close.
He pushed in, then, actively fucking her, finally. Her jaw went slack as he thrust in and out, routinely hitting the back of her throat. Her nails dug into his thighs, she would break the skin if he were human.
She stopped him, pushing him back slightly so she could grab him by the base and suck the tip like it was a cherry lollipop, her favorite.
The spirit began to shudder, she thought she could taste the impression of something filling her mouth, and her orgasm hit her at a force so strong it pushed her onto her back, off the vibrator and away from the ghost dick.
When she came to, chest heaving, she was alone in the room. The vibrator was still buzzing on the other side of the bed and there was a wet spot between her legs from the force of her orgasm. She was blushing furiously as she got on her knees to shut off the vibrator. Her mouth tasted vaguely of come, but it was more of a memory than anything.
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