A Simple Love Story

He sensed this. She felt him pull away somewhat, move his arm around so that he could cup and stroke her pussy. Her hot, swollen lips parted; he inserted a finger and gently began to fingerfuck her, the hot length of his cock lay against the crack of her ass. This was not at all unpleasant; she soon relaxed, her breathing returned to normal. He released her pussy and reached over to the bedside stand.

She liked the vibrator, willingly offered her ass up so that he could rub her pussy with the buzzing white plastic device. The sensations were immediately overwhelming. The pulsating plastic phallus slid easily into her saturated pussy. This time when he spread her ass cheeks she was willing and able to let him enter her backdoor.

His penis felt much wider going up her asshole than when he fucked her normally. It hurt going in; sensing this he paused with just the head of his cock inside her. When she was able to relax again he pushed it in just a fraction of an inch. There was some pain, although the incessant droning of the vibrator buried in her pussy detracted from this somewhat. She had to breathe out and let him work it in and out. He entered her inch by inch; when his length was finally fully inside her they both paused to relax, the hot meat of his dick up her ass felt incredible as the vibrator buzzed away in her sopping wet pussy. She pushed her ass up toward him; urged him to fuck her more. She had never before felt so full of cock; she found the sensations nothing short of fantastic.

Her sphincter was now fully relaxed, he was able to begin fucking her with regular thrusts; slowly at first then faster and faster. She raised her ass up to meet his plunging penis, she wiggled and squirmed beneath him. She was pinned to the mattress, impaled on his powerful pole. “Fuck me,” she whimpered, “oooh . . . . . .fuck me!” It was marvelous to be drilled in the ass by his hard rod while the buzzing contrivance continued to torture and pleasure her dripping wet pussy. “Fuck me in the ass!!!” she cried, and then he came, unloading what seemed like gallons of white-hot jizz deep inside her ass. This triggered her orgasm, as powerful an orgasm as she had ever experienced. Her pussy muscles twitched about the buzzing white pleasure device and it seemed that the muscles of her ass clenched; gripping his dick and milking it dry.

For a while they lay together, he on top of her, his solid dick still up her ass. She was laid flat out, his mass pinning her down, his thighs on the backs of her thighs, his hips on her ass. It was a fantastic experience, better than she could possibly have imagined.

* * *

Naomi loved the games they played. She would be a life-sized doll for him, would stand motionless for him, naked, and allow him to dress her, bit by bit. She moved just enough to make it possible for her to be dressed. She would hold her arms forward, doll-like, as he pulled her brassiere into place. In order to properly fit the brassiere in place he would freely fondle her breasts, then pinch her nipples before stepping back to fasten the snap. He held out panties for her to step into. She liked to watch him pull them up, watch as he rubbed her crotch and pulled the thong portion up between the cheeks of her ass. Stockings were next; thigh-highs, sheer or fishnet, with the line running up the back. He would have her sit down while he pulled them up, stroking her legs as the hose were pulled into place. He fitted her into bustiers and corsets, and once properly garbed in all these delicate underthings he would select dresses and gowns as suited his taste.

It was a sort of striptease in reverse, allowing the perfect lady of his imagination to come to life before his very eyes. An unusual role-reversal would occur during the course of this love-play, for as she became clothed, he would gradually undress. By the time she was fully clothed he would be naked, shamelessly stroking himself to an erect state. This was her reward for allowing herself to play the living mannequin. Perfectly dressed in the proper image of a prim and proper lady, Naomi would seat herself before him and take over his fondling, a wide smile on her lips as she did so. She would remain fully clothed throughout the handjob, even as she went to her knees on the carpet to suck him off. The clothes were gifts, hers to keep. He even paid for the dry cleaning.

Playing love-slave to him was a uniquely thrilling experience. He fastened a choker around her neck; black leather studded in rhinestones. She wondered if he found it in a pet shop. Other than her dog collar, as a slave the only other thing she was allowed to wear wore were the shoes; shiny black patent leather pumps with thin black straps that buckled at the ankle. “Slaves do not wear clothes,” he said. Of course not. To her dog collar he fastened a short leash; it hung down the small of her back when not in use as a restraint. This outfit was intended to impart a feeling of humiliation, shame. She loved the unabashed wickedness of it all. She loved standing naked before him, subservient, loved it as he led her around by the leash, loved him tugging gently on it as he fucked her from behind.

She knew certain things about him. She had heard of his past lovers, of certain experiences; a particular experience he had explored in the past. She, too, was willing to explore. For his birthday, she offered herself; the least, and yet at the same time the most she could possibly give. “Anything. You can do anything you want. Your wildest fantasy,” she said.

“Anything?” he asked, one eyebrow raised suspiciously.

“Your most perverted desire,” she replied. “Invite a friend, if you like . . .”

It was the quintessential love-slave experience. She stood before them clad in fishnet thigh-highs and heels, nothing more save the collar and leash about her thin neck, the sign of her subservience. In this humiliating get-up she felt more naked than nude. She was required to serve them drinks and performing whatever errands they required. It was an appallingly decadent duty.

She endured her shame with chin held high and proud, although admittedly she felt more at ease once the evening had progressed to the point where the two men were naked also. Richard and his friend, Paul, sat on the sofa before her with their legs wide open, masturbating quite openly. Naomi was amazed to observe the size of the men’s hard penises. Her duty now quite naturally involved kneeling before them and stroking their penises, fondling their balls and taking them into her mouth; first one, and then the other.

Anyway, what shame should there be in it? She liked sex, loved cock; why not enjoy getting double the amount of cock a girl normally did? She alternately sucked and stroked them; with one hard cock in her mouth she would stroke the other. She sucked slowly, lovingly, running her lips and tongue down and then up one man’s length, parting her lips to swallow him, then releasing him; a few final flicks with the tip of her tongue across the sensitive tip before moving over to lick and suck the other cock. Richard and Paul were soon reduced to quivering pieces of meat; they were malleable, clay in her hands. She backed away, went to all fours on the carpet.

Without a word the men followed her lead. One went behind her, her lover. She felt his tongue licking her pussy as she continued to suck and stroke Paul. It felt absolutely glorious to have a mouthful of long, hard cock while at the same time a hot, wet tongue lashed about her wet pussy and rimmed her tight asshole. When his tongue was replaced by his long, hard shaft she moaned, moaned as he impaled her pussy with his thick, rigid length. Filled with hard, hot meat, she sucked and was fucked. She dwelt in a world full of cock, was surrounded by cock, nothing but cock; lovely, hard, hot cock. She could barely bring herself to come up for air.

Eventually the situation evolved to its logical conclusion, to where she wanted it to go from the very beginning. She released Paul’s cock from her mouth, delivered a final few licks up and down his length, a few butterfly flicks with the tip of her tongue across the sensitive glans at the tip of the head, then moved up to the sofa, causing her lover behind her to withdraw. She indicated for Paul to lay back the length of the sofa so that she could straddle him and allow his glistening, wet shaft to go where so recently her lover had filled her. She held her pussylips apart and looked down to watch as Paul’s thick piece of meat plunged into her wet folds.

Naomi allowed herself a brief moment of glory, arching her back and pinching her nipples as she rode his hard pole. It seemed strange that this new cock should feel different in her freshly fucked pussy – a hard cock is a hard cock, after all - but it did. Naomi leaned forward, placed her hands about Paul’s chest and shoulders and thrilled as he licked and sucked at her breasts. Then she looked over her shoulder to Richard and wordlessly indicated for him to take his rightful place behind her.

Paul fucked her slowly; Naomi moved her ass up and down unhurriedly, fully appreciating every inch of his cock as Richard planted kisses on her neck, her shoulders, moving down to the small of her back, the crack of her round ass. When she was quite wet she felt him moving behind her, felt him place the head of his dick on her tight, wet asshole. She ceased moving her pussy up and down the pole she was impaled on, while this second cock was gently but firmly inserted into her backdoor.

The hot dick in her box twitched as she squirmed beneath the rod that slowly but surely made its way up her ass. The pressure was intense, but she would let out a breath and was able to handle yet another inch, inch by inch, until he was fully inserted. Then slowly, ever so slowly, she began to move about, slither and squirm between the two poles. To be fucked in her two holes by two cocks at once was what she sought; dual penetration.

The sensation was nothing short of fabulous. She had man all over her; every single inch of every erogenous zone on her body was being stimulated, both her holes sopping wet and full of hot, hard meat. Her legs straddled the man beneath her, they were belly to belly, her tits pressed flat against his chest. She was pinned down by the weight of her lover on top, his thighs against the backs of her thighs. He leaned back, allowing her to arch her back, offer her tits to the man who toiled beneath her. First one nipple then another was sucked and nibbled upon. Fingers were inserted into her open lips; she cried, “oh!” and sucked on them as if they were a penis. She sensed pulses of pleasure, delightful waves of happiness, joy and gratification begin to course her being.

The pleasurable ordeal continued. She sunk her fingers into the chest of the man beneath her, pushed herself back into the men’s rigid shafts. Hey eyes were shut, her teeth clenched. The sensations were almost too much.

The mouth that suckled at her tits was replaced by a pair of hands that now cupped and held her breasts, fingers that pinched her tight, pointed nipples. Other hands gripped her asscheeks; she gripped them and held on, taking the men’s thrusts, finding a rhythm and thrusting back.

She hung her head, eyes closed, lips parted. Beads of sweat formed on her forehead, her hair was drenched in sweat. The waves of pleasure she rode were so intense; almost unbearable, yet she couldn’t stop, wouldn’t stop. “Fuck me!” she cried, “oh yes! Fuck me! FUCK ME!!!” And then she cried, “FUCK ME! FUCKME! FUCKME! FUCKME! FUCKME! FUCKME! FUCKME! FUCKME! FUCKME!FUCK ME!!!”

The swollen dicks she rode now began to shudder and quake. The throes of the most intense, full-body multi-orgasm she had ever experienced in her entire life crashed on the beach of her consciousness. With eyes squeezed shut she cried out, “Oh! Oh! OHHH!!!” then opened her eyes to behold, mouth agape, the spectacle she was a part of. The muscles of her pussy and ass spasmed, gripping, releasing and gripping again about the dual shafts. Her eyes widened still as the twin cocks she rode began to unload gallons of white-hot liquid into her depths.

She collapsed onto Paul, laid her sweaty hair across his chest and shook, weeping tears of pure joy. The cock in her pussy and the cock in her ass were still solid, still pumping in and out as the juices of their lovemaking flowed together, out of her and down her legs. “Enough, enough!” she cried quietly, “I’m satisfied!”

* * *

He was busy painting. It was a big project, an artistic challenge of monumental proportions. Naomi fully understood when he left it up to her to plan and host a little get-together for occasion of her birthday.

It was quite the little dilemma; exactly howdoes one organize and initiate an orgy? A certain amount of foreknowledge had to be assumed and understood on behalf of the invitees, yet those of her own circle of friends were completely out of the question. The solution to her predicament was provided, quite unexpectedly, by the lovely and enigmatic Pandora.

They met at one of the nice hotels down by the beach. The sunny courtyard was a nice place to sit and relax over drinks while Naomi put forward the concept.

“A sex party?” Pandora remarked, smiling sinfully and looking over her blue-tinted wire frames as she sipped her daiquiri through a straw. “Oh, y-e-s-s-s-s!!!”

The diminutive Pandora claimed to know all about hosting an orgy. Naomi did not doubt the petite blonde when she stated everything would be under control. When questioned, the girl simply smiled and placed a finger to her lips. “Leave it to me,” was all she would say.

They agreed on a date; Pandora promised to come over early to help set things up.

The morning of the Big Day arrived. With nothing to do until Pandora arrived, and left to her own devices while Richard painted, Naomi retired to the bathroom to primp and preen. She stood before the mirror to inspect her naked body. The notion of attending her first orgy filled her with trepidation. Then, in a mock pose she’d once seen on the cover of a men’s magazine, she cupped her breasts and blew herself a kiss. This silly gesture helped her relax. She ran her fingers down her belly, stroked the fine fur at the juncture of her thighs, and decided she needed a little trim. She seated herself on the toilet, and armed with a set of electric clippers and a mirror she set to work.

She must have been nervous with the evening’s prospects; when she was done she noticed that she had cropped herself even closer than was her habit. Peering in the mirror held between her wide open legs, all she could see that an abbreviated triangle of stubble was all that remained. She stroked herself the lips of her pussy.Mmmm, smooth, bald. Perhaps a littleattention down there would help her to relax.

Admittedly anxious, she dressed simply; a basic black halter-top minidress, straightforward enough yet sophisticated; the simple dress displayed her cleavage to it’s best advantage. Beneath she wore panties and a pair of stockings, no bra. She regarded herself in the mirror as she pulled her hair back a tight bun. With her lips painted bright red and the gold hoop earrings, she felt like one of the models in the racier lingerie catalogs.Frederick’s as opposed toVictoria’s. Or for that matter,Penthouse as opposed toPlayboy, perhaps.Well, why not? she thought,it’s an ORGY, for Pete’s sake. I shouldlook like a porn star! As an afterthought she hiked the hem of her dress and pulled down her panties. There was no question - today was definitely Thong Day. She held the dress bunched about her waist and pulled the thin strip of black elastic into place about her hips, up the crack of her ass.

The doorbell rang. It was Pandora. She was dressed in the quintessential sexy-hippie-chick-look that suited Pandora so well; an East Indian print dress with a tantalizing neckline that plunged. The blonde looked Naomi over and simply smiled her enigmatic smile. Naomi’s feelings of nervous anticipation skyrocketed.

They giggled and laughed over glasses of Chardonnay as they prepared the party foods. Naomi truly enjoyed the younger girl’s company. Eventually, Pandora looked at the clock and said, “Oh! Now it’s time to get ready!” She quickly doffed her clothes, stripping down to nothing but skimpy panties and a pair of lace-top stockings.

Naomi regarded her friends’ nakedness. “Are we to greet our guests like this?” she asked. It seemed a bit ahead of schedule.

“Of course not,” Pandora replied, pulling on a long-sleeved, off the shoulder chemise of the most delicate lace pattern. Done in a buff colored fabric, it matched her coloring; completely transparent lace outlines fell in place upon the curves of her body. Her panties were but a mere strip of the sheerest material possible about her hips, two tiny gossamer triangles held together by strings as thin as shoelaces. With her blonde curls Pandora seemed to glow in the sheen of a golden aura. She was absolutely beautiful.

Encased in sheer stockings that ended mid-thigh, her hips appeared to emerge like a portion of a marble statue above the stocking’s lacey tops. The overall effect was incredible; her garments simply served to enhance rather than conceal. She was more beautiful than if she had been totally naked. Her top stopped at her hips, just above the microscopic panties. The filmy cloth of her panties served merely to tease the eye; the tiny patch of golden fuzz that hardly concealed her slit was quite visible. Her ass was in full display, hardly covered.

Regarding her friend with awe and admiration, Naomi exclaimed, “Why Pandora! You’re such a lovely little whore!” Both girls laughed.

There was no time for Naomi to wonder if she, herself, was somehow overdressed for the occasion. The guests were beginning to arrive.

The little get-together was coming along successfully, other than the fact that she didn’t know any of Pandora’s friends and acquaintances. They seemed nice enough; well dressed, sophisticated, and Richard’s friend Paul was there, the one Naomi had done dual-penetration with. Refreshments were served in the open bar area downstairs, a sort of icebreaker for the activities to follow. In accordance with Pandora’s advice, the drinks were well fortified, and plentiful.

After awhile the guests were led upstairs to the sumptuous sitting area in the loft. Light, bluesy music piped in from the hidden speaker system. People were relaxed; they partied and mingled. Pandora drew Naomi aside. “We need to get this partyreally started,” she said. Naomi looked at her expectantly. “Come with me,” Pandora said enigmatically. She took Naomi by the hand and led her to the vestibule by the main entrance. There she turned to face Naomi, and uttered a single word:

“Strip.”

Naomi hesitated for the briefest moment, then turned, her hands fluttering about the nape of her neck to indicate the zipper on the back of her dress. As the fastener was slowly pulled undone she put her arms to her side, allowing Pandora to remove her garment. Naomi wondered what her little friend had in store for her; other than the jewelry she wore, her stockings, heels and thong, she was practically naked. Then she felt Pandora’s hands moving down her back to her hips. “We won’t be needingthis,” Pandora said, placing her thumbs beneath the straps of the thong and gently pulled it down to her ankles. To allow the tiny garment to be removed Naomi lifted first one stiletto-heeled foot, then the other. Save for her jewelry, stockings and heels, Naomi was quite nude.

Pandora produced a black leather collar and leash. “But I alreadyhave one of those!” Naomi exclaimed. From a drawer in a side table Naomi retrieved the collar that Richard and she used in their love-play. Pandora examined the glittery, rhinestone encrusted accessory, then placed it aside in favor of the steel-studded black leather number she’d brought over for the occasion.