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Martin was on the computer when Laura got home from work. In fact, he was usually on the computer whenever…

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

Martin was on the computer when Laura got home from work. In fact, he was usually on the computer whenever…

Pete had been friends with Steve since he had first graduated from college and gotten his first job. He remembered meeting Steve at his orientation to the company by the Human Resources Dept. Steve was one of the salesman who sold software for the company and was going to be a mentor to Pete as he started working also in sales for Eros. Pete was new to the city of Charleston, WV. In fact, he had just moved there from his home in Columbus, Ohio. Pete really wanted to get into writing his own programs as well as doing computer programming and architecture for businesses. The sales job was a way of working himself into the company. Hell, it was a recession and he was glad to have any type of job! Pete and Steve really hit it off. Steve was able to help Pete find out his way around town, set him up with an apartment, and show him both the highs and lows of Charleston, WV. Pete especially liked the lows that Steve had showed him– the strip bars, the adult bookstores and even a place that had a live sex show. One time Pete told a stripper that Steve was the person with all the money and that she should ask him for the money for a dance. Yes, getting financially started was a hard thing to do in a new city. It was quite a dance at that – as she spread her legs wide exposing her nude vagina several drops of moisture dripped down her slit and disappeared onto the floor below. This was the first of many trips to the adult entertainment places in Charleston. Steve was married to a beautiful women named Sasha who was 30 years old. The first time Pete saw Sasha was a reflection in a mirror in the hallway at their house. Sasha was 5’6″ with dark jet black hair cut in a way that made her look very tom boyish. Her figure was anything but tom boyish with well developed breasts, a tight rounded butt, and a slim waistline. Pete often wondered what she looked like beneath her clothes. Sasha was quite a contrast as far as looks– a tom boyish appearance with the body that any sculptor or painter would use for a model. Sasha greeted Pete with a warm handshake, hug, and greeting: “So your the new whiz kid whose out to conquer the sales world.” Her smile put him at ease. Pete thought how Steve was such a lucky bastard to have a woman like her. Pete advanced quickly in the company. He was soon named vice-president of sales. Pete then developed several unique computer products. This propelled him into the highest levels of management as well as made him very wealthy. Steve on the other hand had a tide of misfortune and his sales plummeted. Steve then began to drink. Pete ran into Sasha at the car repair shop. She was had been crying to herself. Evidently, her car needed repaired and when it came time to pay the credit card had been rejected. Sasha didn’t even have a way home. Pete quickly paid for the car repair. Sasha promised to pay him back. Pete could only think how he wanted her to pay him back. Sasha showed up to Pete’s place a couple hours later. Her eyes were red. Evidently, it had been a very bad day since a number of creditors had been calling with threats to repossess their house and belongings. Steve had even spent Sasha’s private savings without her knowledge. She was destitute. Sasha asked Pete if she could borrow some money and that she would be “willing to do any maid service around the house to help out and that she would also get a job to pay him back.” Pete asked, “Are you really willing to be my paid maid? Would you take a job where all your debts could be paid off?” Sasha responded quizzically, “It sounds as though you have something in mind. I just thought I could clean your home and maybe do some cooking.” Pete replied, “I’ve always wanted you as a sex slave that would serve my needs.” Sasha eyes grew very wide and she gasped in shock. “I could never do that to Steve. I really still love him. I’ll never do that! Can’t you even help out your best friend?” Pete quietly stated, “I’ve always wanted you as my own private sex slave, Sasha. I’ve desired you more than any valuable painting or other work of art. The situation is just right for my desires.” “You evil bastard. I’d never do anything like that. I love Steve.” Sasha angrily left. An day later the phone rang. “Pete, the bank is going to repossess our home unless we can pay the mortgage. No one will lend us any more money. I’ll do as you ask,” as Sasha cried.hard sexI told her to come over so that we could make the necessary arrangements. I then arranged to take care of Sasha’s and Steve’s bills a little at a time. I had Sasha tell Steve that a rich relative was going to help her out. When Sasha reported to my house I had her stand in front of a mirror and slowly remove her clothes. The reflection in a mirror showed some deep, dark brown nipples about 3 inches in size that came to pointed tip. As she bent and removed her panties I saw hair that grew up from her slit to her ass with some large protruding vagina lips. Sasha’s ass was round, well defined but small. As she turned around I saw a fairly hairy bush. Sasha had tears rolling down her cheeks. I then had her walk to me and away from me. I told her, “Walk like you are a hooker out trying to get some business.” Sasha then walked very sexily around my living room. Sasha asked, “Do you have to take a video of me doing this?” I replied, “Yes, now let’s see how many ways I can see that vagina of yours.” I saw her pussy as she stood over me, as she lay on the couch with her legs spread, on all fours with her butt in the air. Sasha’s vagina was now moist and her inner/outer lips were puffy. I had her play with herself. Sasha moaned, “Oh I’m about to come, please fuck me Pete.” “Sasha I want you to stop playing with yourself, take out your diaphragm, and come over her and suck my cock.” (that was wild erect and dripping with precum). “Oh, Pete I will get pregnant if I don’t use some protection. I am really fertile right now.” I told her that if she couldn’t do what I asked then there would be no money. I watched as she split her vagina lips and was able to see the back wall of her cervix. I then had her get on all fours as I mounted her from behind. Sasha felt Steve enter her in one shove. She pushed back into him and felt the tip of his large 10 inch cock hitting her cervix. Sasha grasped briefly in pain as Pete’s dick penetrated her cervix but waves of orgasm swiftly overtook her as she felt Pete’s cock throbbing and pounding her vagina. Pete soon shot his load deep inside her fertile womb. She then sucked him hard again. This time Pete took her with Sasha’s legs over his shoulders. Again, Pete emptied his sperm deep inside her womb. Pete had Sasha hold her legs up so that none of his sperm would leak out. Pete wanted to be sure to make her pregnant. Over the next several weeks Pete stuck his huge cock into Sasha and shot as much sperm into her as possible from as many different positions but always with one intent — to get Sasha pregnant. Sasha’s missed her next monthly period. When she did a pregnancy test it came out positive. Pete still had Sasha coming over to his to perform “housework” even though she was pregnant. Sasha’s nipples grew darker, larger, and became very sensitive. When Pete would suck on her luscious pointed pregnant breast she would squirt milk into his mouth and dose his cock with her vaginal juices as she repeatedly orgasmed. Sasha was hoping that her ordeal would soon be over even though she had signed a contract that would last several years. Her hopes where soon dashed when she heard Pete talking about her doing a gangbang with some well endowed black men after she had his baby. She shuttered when he asked if she “Would like to have a black baby?” Sasha’s maid service was only the beginning to satisfying Pete’s appetites.

It was a week before Xmas, and the gang down at work was having a gift exchange. The rules of…

Alan had just finished a hellish day, sometimes the income wasn’t worth the trouble. As an outside sales specialist in…

My world was turned upside down. Grandma and Grandpa were here for the week, and I had to stay at…

That Friday night, as we were fucking like rabbits in our marital bed, Victor came inside of my hungry cunt with an unusual strength.We both fell exhausted on the bed.My husband then surprised me, saying he would love to watch me trying a black cock. I told him I had been chatting with a black man during several months; but we had never met in person.Victor then asked if I could invite him to meet…The black guy was called Trevor.He had sent me some pictures, showing a huge handsome dark skin man. I guessed he would be well hung too.We finally met him first at a nearby pub, and we all three hit it off instantly. Victor invited him to come with us at our place, where we shared some few drinks and listened to music.I then made the first move and asked Trevor to take a shower with me. We did and I sucked him hard in the shower before we went to our bedroom, where my husband was waiting in a chair by the bed.Trevor put on a condom; but I told him I wanted bareback…I laid on my back and spread my thighs for him.When he entered me, I moaned loud, as I felt his thick cockhead stretching my cunt so badly. I looked at my husband and told him that we should have done this years ago… He smiled and agreed.Trevor made me cum at least four times during a whole hour. He finally arched his back and came inside of my very hot cunt.As he pulled out, I jumped on him and licked his still hard cock clean with my tongue.Victor suggested him to spend the night. I went whit my beloved husband to the guest room and there I gave him a quick blowjob, until he filled my mouth with his salty semen. I swallowed all and kissed Victor, warning him I would spend the night alone with my brand new Black Master, no witnesses at all…My hubby agreed and I kissed him deeply.I then joined Trevor in our marital bed and he fucked me for hours.I cried out loud during all night long, knowing Victor could hear my moans and screams through the thin wall between both rooms.Trevor asked me if I had taken a black cock up my ass; I lied to him, saying I had never been sodomized by a black man. He smiled, saying I was a naughty liar and said he would enjoy a piece of my ass and I could not escape from his monster black cock….I screamed in pain as his cock passed through my tight sphincter; but he was gentle; so, very soon pain became pure pleasure…The next morning, I let my husband watch us fuck once more; but this time Trevor was a bit rude and aggressive. His thick cock hurt me a little; but I liked this kind of pain.As my new Black Master left, Victor hurried to shove his face between my thighs and he sucked my slippery cunt, which was a real mess.Just a week after, Trevor came to fuck me again.This time it was just an anal session. The black man sodomized me in a very hard way, in front of my beloved husband, who enjoyed to watch me being abused by a hard huge black cock.interracial sex storiesAnd again, as soon as Trevor left, my loving man licked all this black man’s semen out from my poor stretched asshole.Next time Trevor came home to use my body, he allowed Victor to participate as a submissive cuckold.My beloved hubby was really eager to get that thick black cock in his mouth and I found myself in competition with him to see who was the best cocksucker…Victor won, according to Trevor’s opinion; but he was ordered to swallow all the salty cum that my black lover blasted in his mouth.While Trevor was sodomizing me, we all heard the doorbell rang.My hubby opened the door, finding two huge black guys there. They said Trevor had invited them to fuck a white married slut…I was shared by the three black guys like a ragged doll.They fucked all my three holes, even at the same time, while my loving hubby just witnessed the whole sex action…As they finally left, Victor realized I had been destroyed by those huge black cocks. He looked worried, as I laid on our marital bed, in a puddle of fresh sticky cum.I smiled at him… saying it was his fault…

My clothes were neatly laid out on the bed. Red silk blouse, black ankle length wrap around skirt, lacy white bra and matching string. “Well, it may be another boring promotional party, but at least I’ll look good,” I thought to myself. I hated these things, always having to be on your guard against the other P.R. bitches, all of them looking to fill your shoes and their most direct route is via your jugular. This one was for some new product that we’d just finished the marketing strategy for. They were launching it at the Barbican Centre. A hail of floodlights and champagne and then a quick look at the commercial, followed by more champagne and then home to my nice warm bed and my loving husband. Josh, my husband, never came to these bashes. He couldn’t stand the morons and their patronising talk, but he always made himself available to ferry me to the venues and back home again after it was over. I stood in front of the mirror and admired myself. “Not bad for a thirty-five-year-old with two kids,” I thought as the door opened and Josh said, “Come on love, I want to be back in time for the match. You’re looking good.” “I’m ready now. Shouldn’t be a late one tonight.” I kissed Josh on the cheek, closed the car door and made my way up the steps. They were really going for it this time, no expense spared by the look of the posters and glitter that adorned the hallway. Then I noticed my boss and the client. “Irene, hello. You’ve met John Frazer from the Promo Dept at Majorhost haven’t you?” “Yes, of course I have,” I said as I stretched my hand out. “My dear, so nice to see you again, and what a lovely outfit,” the old man said. “Enjoy the show.” I walked into the function room and looked around the usual faces. Most of them worked for either the client or us but there were a few I didn’t recognise. A glass was pressed into my hand and I looked around to meet the eyes of an extremely handsome man I definitely hadn’t met before. “Don’t you just hate these things?” he said in a quiet voice. “They’re not that bad when you get used to them. I’m Irene Ross from Heath Ross and Associates,” I said inquisitively. “Forgive me, Steve Daly from Majorhost. I work in the Promotions Department. Come on let’s have a drink.” I followed him to the bar as I downed the contents of the glass he’d given me only moments before. We talked for a while long while before he said, “Let’s have a dance.” Normally I wouldn’t dance at these functions but the jealous stares of some of my colleagues had me feeling a little mischievous. “Right, let’s do that.” I said as headed towards the music in the main hall. We danced for a long while, then the commercial was shown to ingratiating and rapturous applause and then it was time to go home. Steve said, “Want a lift?” “Thanks Steve but my husband is expecting me to call for him.” “Let him stay with the TV, give him a ring and let him know that you’ve got a ride home,” he said as he plopped his mobile into my hand. “I’m not ready to let you go just yet.” I rang Josh while Steve’s beautiful piercing eyes shone at me. What was I thinking? It all seemed so naughty, it was like being on a date again. Josh was fine about me taking a lift from one of my friends, besides, his match had gone into extra time and he was more interested in that. We drove across London in the right direction for home when Steve said, “I live just there,” as he pointed at the docklands. “Nice place, you should see it. How about we stop off for a nightcap?” “No, really, I shouldn’t,” I said in my assertive tone but Steve was having none of it. “Come on, just a small one. It has one of the best views on this side of the river.” He was persistent and I capitulated. “OK, but we’d better be quick,” I said.nude young girl sex photosHis building was one of those old warehouses. Smart enough too. He stopped by a door and pressed some code into a metal box, there was a click and he turned the handle. He stepped back and gestured me into the room. As I walked past him the sound of a TV was clear and as I rounded the corner into his living room I was greeted by the sight of two men sitting on a sofa. One was a young lad, about nineteen, and the other was older, easily in his sixties. “This is my old man, and the other is Kevin, my cousin.” “I thought we were having a nightcap Steve?” “Yeah, what do you fancy?” he said. “Well, I didn’t expect company,” I said trying to get to grips with the situation. “Oh, don’t worry about them, they’re family,” he said in a patronising tone. “Whisky alright for you? Sit down and make yourself comfortable.” There were two sofas and I started towards the unoccupied one when the old man patted the cushion between himself and the young lad, “Come and sit here, my beauty,” he said. I felt too uncomfortable to be rude and did as I was told. They moved slightly apart to give me room. I can feel the young lad’s eyes on me all the time as I sat between the two of them. “Lovely lad my Stevie, isn’t he?” said the old man. “Got a lot more about him than young Kevin here. Kevin’s still a virgin you know. Got his fingers into some bird last week but that’s about it, so far.” I felt like screaming but managed to stop myself. “Do you mind if I just give my husband a call, he’ll be worrying about me.” That assertive tone again, but it had as much effect on the father as it had had on his son. “Phone’s not working love, but my Stevie’s got one of those mobiles, he’ll be back with your drink soon, dare say he’ll let you use it, if his battery’s not gone flat. Usually does at this time of night.” Panic held me like a rabbit caught in a cars’ headlights, I didn’t know what to do and then I noticed the young lad was staring at my legs and my palms began to sweat. I felt the old mans leg pressing against my thigh and turned to look at him. To my astonishment, he was grinning and obviously enjoying my embarrassment. I looked across to the young lad to find that he had his hand in his pocket and was playing with himself. I looked away in disgust and felt a hand arrive on my thigh and slowly work it’s way into the split of my skirt. I tried to stand up and was pushed back down by a pair of strong hands from over my shoulders. Steve was back. “Steve, please let me go, I need to go home to my husband,” I was pleading. “Just behave yourself or your darling husband will have to be told about how you came here looking to be fucked.” I sat there in horror as two hands began to open my skirt and manoeuvre up my thighs. My legs were being pulled apart and I felt both petrified and confused. I couldn’t run away, the door had probably been locked behind me. I decided to sit quietly and hope to get out of there alive. “I bet she’s got a lovely little cunt, what do you reckon Stevie?” said the old man as the lad began to unbutton my blouse. I tried to stop him and my hand was dragged behind my back. “Please, leave me alone!” I begged. “Shut up and do as you are told!” Steve snarled. My blouse fell open and was lifted over my shoulders as my wrists were tied together behind my back and I began to sob. My bra was removed and both of the men at my sides took a breast into their mouths, sucking greedily at my hardening nipples. Then the old man moved his mouth over mine and pushed his tongue between my lips. I could taste the beer and cigarettes on his breath. Disgusting. Moments later I was forced to my feet and the young lad began to unbutton my skirt. I could feel his rough hands fumbling with the buttons as he groped under the waistband and then the garment fell to the floor at my feet. I was standing there in front of these perverts in nothing but my lacy white g-string. I felt ashamed and embarrassed. “I bet she’s got a lovely little cunt,” said the old man. “Turn her round, I want a look at her snatch.” The young lad grabbed my shoulders and hurriedly turned me to face the old man and Steve, who was standing behind the sofa with a video camera. I couldn’t see his face but I pleaded, “Please don’t hurt me. Let me go home to my husband and I promise I won’t tell anybody about this.” Steve lowered the camera, looked straight at me and said, “You are at home. My home, and you’re going to do exactly as I want or you’ll not see your dear husband again. Right?” I began to cry again and then was pushed to the floor at the old man’s feet. “Roll her over sonny,” he said, “and spread her legs.” I was turned face down on the carpet and then the young lad hooked his thumbs under the elastic of my string and ripped them down my legs to the knee. “Phwooarrr, she’s a cracker, go on son, have a feel,” the old man said. I lay there for what seemed like an eternity but was probably only a couple of minutes when I felt a hand fold around my buttock and move downwards toward my cunt. I could feel the fingers rubbing between my lips and then one slipped inside me. I was wet, I suppose the fear and embarrassment of being naked in front of three strangers had caused this involuntary reaction. I heard the old man grunt as he got to his feet and tell the young lad to stand back as it was now his turn. His hand was rough as his fingers found their way directly to my soft cunt lips and caressed over my clit. It felt good; he had a natural touch. I heard myself screaming inside and was thinking, “No Irene, you can’t enjoy this!” but I was. The old man was probing me, running his fingers all over my slit and between my buttock, touching my clit. I began to move myself upwards, desperately trying to contact my clit with his fingers. If my hand weren’t tied, I’d have probably found myself frigging off. I was now so turned on that my juices were in full flow and were leaking out into my neatly trimmed pubic hair. And then the contact stopped.nudist family sex hot photosNothing happened for a while and I could hear the three of them talking in hushed tones. Every now and then I could make out a word and sometimes a sentence, it seemed like I was going to be fucked. Suddenly there was an arm around my waist and I was brought to my knees and turned to face the sofa. I was pulled forwards until my chest rested on the seat. My arse was in the air and my tight, dripping little pussy was on view to anyone behind me. A blindfold was put around my face and I could only experience darkness and touch. Another minute or so passed and then it started. A hand groped my arse and then my cunt… “Hey Steve, I think she’s pissed herself, she’s sopping wet!” It was the young lad. “Gerroff, I’m havin’ her first,” said the old man. I heard his zipper being pulled down and then something pushed against my cunt. “Oh God, this is it, he’s going to fuck me,” I thought to myself. Slowly he pushed his cock into my slippery cunt. It was bigger than I’d expected and filled me up. I was fighting against the emotions that were telling me that I was actually enjoying this, eventually submitting to them and pushing back against him. My breath escaped in a long, “Ooooh,” and I began to feel a warmth deep inside my abdomen. I heard my voice saying, “Go on, FUCK ME,” but couldn’t believe that I was actually saying it. He thrust into me for about a minute and then I felt him withdraw and warm droplets spray over my arse. The dirty bastard had spunked off on me. “Go on sonny, you have a go now. She’s a dirty little whore and it’s time you had a woman.” The next thing I felt was my ankles being grabbed and I was dragged backwards, falling heavily onto the carpet and being hurriedly turned over so that I was lying on my back. My legs were kicked apart and then another cock found its way into my well-lubricated hole. This one was much faster in his thrusting and he didn’t last long before he started grunting and moaning. “I’m going to come, I’m going to come,” he shouted. Seconds later he spurted his jism into my unprotected cunt and he was no longer a virgin. I was left on the carpet with my hands tied behind me for a few more minutes before the blindfold was removed. “Don’t ever say that you didn’t enjoy that,” said Steve. “Want a lift home or should I call you a taxi?”