Reverting to Type Ch. 02

I got a phone call from Mrs Sutter a week later. She wished to come over to my apartment to discuss Christine's situation. I was not terribly happy about this but found it difficult to say no. She arrived at the nominated time and asked if there was somewhere private we could talk. I took her to my bedroom. She started by saying she was pleased that I had honored our arrangement last week end. Christine had confirmed that the only sexual contact was some kissing which, although not ideal, was acceptable. I struggled to keep a straight face as Christine and I were having sex at least every second day.

She continued, "I have decided to make the following sacrifice for my daughter. You may expend your sexual energy on me once a week if you continue to respect and maintain my daughter's virginity." She was starting to undress as she spoke so I guess to her it was a done deal. What could I do? Say no and imply I was plotting to "defile" her daughter? Say no and imply that her "sacrifice" had no appeal. I had really enjoyed our first encounter and though it did feel a little surreal, I agreed and started undressing myself. She was more involved and less submissive this time. She flew at me and was quite rapacious. Almost like a starving glutton. There was not a shred of intimacy. It was raw, visceral sex. Sure, we did help each other to orgasm but there was a definite air of mutual self-interest in the whole encounter.

And so this arrangement went on for the next 3 or so months. She got more wanton if anything. To continue the food analogy, it was almost like she was ravenous. There was this sexual hunger that had to be satiated. It was amazing to see this normally cool and calm person, fully in control of herself and her life, become a sex crazed mad woman in my bedroom. It almost scared me a little but I was enjoying myself. I wondered where this was going to lead. For both of us.

I did get my wish to take a few pictures of her while we were having sex. I had hidden a camera under the pillows of my bed and while I was riding her I quickly whipped it out and took a couple of snaps. She quickly realized what was happening and a bit of a wrestling match ensued as she was naturally not that keen for this behavior to be permanently recorded. It was a very one sided affair however and I managed to continue to take photos throughout our little carnal carnival. Some of the photos were very raunchy and I posted them on a couple of sites. Try searching using the word Sutter. I especially like the ones that showed her anger at being photographed as well as the ones that had a look of total surrender. I still find these very stimulating almost a decade later.

She was very reliable and punctual when it came to our weekly meeting so she startled me one afternoon by turning up unannounced. When I opened the door she pushed past me and entered my bedroom. I followed and found her hopping on one leg as she removed her frilly white knickers from under her knee length plaid skirt. She seemed agitated and impatient. She turned to me and started to roughly unbuckle my belt, undo my fly and lower my pants. She then turned, knelt on the bed and flipped up her skirt to display her perky little buttocks. She had yet to make eye contact. I suppose a hermit living in a remote mountain cave might have misinterpreted her solicitation but this red blooded male had no doubt about what she was expecting. I shuffled up behind her and prepared my member for duty. I could hear her rapid, rasping breathing. I hadn't touched her yet and she was already truly worked up. You sometimes read about an aroused woman being "dripping wet" but this was the only time I have ever actually witnessed it. There was already a damp patch on the bed between her legs and she had been in that position for less than a minute. I reflected that this was not a time for being subtle so I lined myself up and thrust sharply into her. I was rewarded with an equally sharp exhalation. It sounded like she had been punched in the stomach. I grasped her pelvis and started punching into her. The first few thrusts rocked her forward but she soon found how to brace herself to meet my onslaught. This continued for a couple of minutes without any respite. She had still not said a word or looked directly at me. It was quite a brutish, animalistic fuck. A rutting really. No quarter was given or seemingly expected. It made our regular sex seem intimate!

My senses were bringing me to the boil so I wondered how it should end. Had she orgasmed? Was she expecting an orgasm? In keeping with the general air of remoteness and selfishness I decided to suit myself so I increased tempo and with a coarse bellow, unloaded into her. I gave her a few final powerful lunges just to show her who the boss was and then stepped back. Her fanny released a couple of lewd cum burps and the damp patch on the bed doubled in size.

She slowly fell flat of the bed. It was sort of like she melted into it. After a minute or two she raised herself up and, still breathing raggedly, moved toward the door. A moment later I heard the front door open and close. I was left with a wet dick, a puddle on my bed, a puzzled but satisfied expression on my face and a petite pair of lacy women's' underwear.

It was only later when I reflected on her visit that there was none of the pretense of our regular scheduled assignations. No admonishments or tirades. The charade of her having sex with me for what she purported to be the benevolent reason of protecting Christine was gone. It was as though she needed servicing. Or maybe like an addict, she needed a fix. She was clearly embarrassed by these experiences but it was as though they were beyond her control. They only occurred a handful of times over the next few months but they are etched in my memory. All of them were quite similar in nature. One of them transpired when I had a few friends around which was really weird but she was so distracted that she did not seem to notice that there were other people in the House. She must have gotten into quite an intense emotional/sexual funk to be driven to satisfy herself in this way, if indeed satisfaction was what she was seeking or getting. Little did I know where this bizarre behavior was leading her.

The idea that she was a little unhinged was reinforced when, even after Christine and I had broken up, she still came around once a week. The rationale? To keep me from preying on younger, vulnerable women. She was so civic minded. I knew she was well over top when she started alluding to other males joining us. I had definitely come to the conclusion that I wasn't fucking her, she was fucking me.

"This service I am giving to the young womanhood of our city could be extended to protect other vulnerable girls. If I am removing your predatory sexual drives, possible I could do so for someone else as well, at the same time" At the same time no less. She wanted another young bloke to come along and have both of us bang her. I was tempted on some level but my relationship with Mrs Sutter was already known to some of my friends and becoming a bit of an embarrassment. To invite a close mate in was just going to be too much. I did think however that I might have a bit of fun and torment her about her racist attitudes. I was playing rugby league at the time and my club happened to have a good number of Polynesian players. Guys mostly from Tonga and Samoa. I showed three of my team mates the photos I had taken of Mrs Sutter and asked if they would be interested in slipping her one. They were incredulous at first but when I assured them I was serious they readily agreed. As I said, the photos were very compelling.

I arranged a time with both parties and even got Mrs Sutter to fork out for a motel room. I met Tavita, Tulanga and Siose at the room and then I went to the car park to wait for Mrs Sutter to arrive. She drove up in her expensive sports car and strode confidently to where I was waiting. She used her shrill demanding voice to check with me that whoever was in the room had agreed to forsake the sins of the flesh for the next month. That was honestly the wording of her stipulation! I nodded but added one small codicil, "Once you're in the room, there's no going back." She nodded sharply and I ushered her into the room.

Sitting on the bed were my three team mates. They were all in their early twenties, Polynesian and over 220 lbs. I could see the shock on her face. I was sure she had been expecting another little white boy like me. Mrs Sutton started backing away from them towards the door where I was standing. She bumped into me and I leaned over and whispered in her ear, "Once you're in the room, there's no going back." I gave her a gentle push towards the bed. She stumbled forward and stood nervously. She glared at me once but then her expression reverted to one of anxiety.

The boys came at her from all sides, poking and prodding her like a piece of meat. "Shit man, she's older than she looked in the photos." said Tulaga. This earned me another fierce glare from Mrs Sutter but I simply shrugged innocently.

"Ho boy! I don't care" squealed Tavita. "I've never had a white woman before." Tavita was weighing a breast in his hand and then gave it a pinch. Tulaga was behind her and raised her knee length skirt up. He pulled down her underwear and gave her a meaty slap on the rump. She shrieked and sprung up several inches into the air. Siosi just giggled. She tried ineffectually to fend them off but they soon had her stripped naked and once their initial curiosity was satisfied they pushed her down on the bed and after a brief argument about who was first, Tulaga lowered his pants and climbed up between her legs.

She was looking really agitated now but knew that resistance was futile. I could see that she was actually shivering like she was cold even though the room was at a very comfortable temperature. With a little fumbling around he locked on and started a very forceful, rhythmic motion. It reminded me of someone rowing a boat. It was weird seeing her little white body covered by this big brown, brawny Samoan. After being initially motionless, she steadily became more and more animated. Standing behind them, all I could see were her arms and legs flailing erratically around. She was making unintelligible sounds almost like she was speaking another language. Tulaga did not last very long and he soon spent himself and rolled off her. She was breathing heavily and gulped as she saw Tavita advance upon her. Siosi just giggled.

Tavita gave a similar performance but was quite vocal, hooping and hollering. He reminded me of a cowboy riding an unbroken horse. I was tempted to encourage him with a "ride 'em cowboy!" After Tavita had finished, we all looked to Siosi. He was still fully clothed. He had not said a single word since Mrs Sutter had entered the room. It had crossed my mind more than once that he may have actually been a little simple minded. A nice guy but not the sharpest needle in the pin cushion. Now it was Tavita and Tulaga that were giggling. I looked at them questioningly.

As Siosi undressed his cock came into view. It was above average in length but it was the sheer girth that was remarkable. Its dimensions reminded me of a can of beer. Mrs Sutter was still on her back but had raised herself up on her elbows. Her gasp was a delightful mix of fear, fascination and resignation and her eyes were like the proverbial saucers. She had only been fucked with two cocks before today and now she was up to number five. On top of that, she was about to be plugged by something that looked like it should be fired from a cannon. Siosi giggled and roughly pulled her legs so that her bum came to the end of the bed. He cocked her legs back and applied his man muscle to the appropriate target. He lent into her and she cried out through clenched teeth. Even though she was a sodden mess he barely made any progress however. Pushing more ferociously he finally made headway and buried about half of himself in her. She was panting like she was in labor. Persevering he plowed on and was soon pistoning his full length in and out. She was really animated now and becoming quite vocal, she was exhorting him on. "Give it to me you black bastard. Fuck me harder. Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me" I was a little worried that the boys might get upset at her racist remarks but they just seemed amused and she just got fucked even harder.

While the boys were not very imaginative they did each give her a very physical, almost brutish fucking. After Siosi had filled her up she was lying on the bed breathing like she had just run a marathon. I had been taking pictures of the action and completed the photo essay with shots of her pussy looking totally abused and oozing cum. I was quite worked up by this stage and decided to relieve myself in her arse. I hitched her legs up and guided myself into her. She was much looser than when I had first fucked her bum but it was still a very pleasurable fit. My three mates started hooting and hollering when they saw what I was up to and started arguing about who was next. They pushed and shoved themselves into a line behind me. I finished quickly and let the boys take over. Even though they had come quite recently, they were so excited that it was all over in fifteen or so minutes. I was a little worried when I saw there was a pinkish tinge of what must have been blood in the soupy mess that had puddled under her bum.

The boys all high fived and left, laughing and hooping, barely giving Mrs Sutter a backward glance or any recognition at all really. Mrs Sutter lay unmoving on the bed for about 15 minutes and then slowly moved, crawled really, to the bathroom. When she emerged she had again reverted to type and reiterated that I and my accomplices (her word) must keep our pledge to celibacy. I hid a smirk and watched her walk gingerly to her car. I swear that she cried out when she sat down.

It was not long after this that I left the city to attend another university. In keeping with tenderness of our relationship I didn't even tell her that I was going. When I returned a year or so later I heard the Sutter's had broken up. Christine had arrived home unexpectedly to find her mother leaning over their couch getting a merry ass fucking from her daughter's boyfriend. You can imagine the scene. Christine and Dad moved out and left Mrs Sutter to it.

The following year I returned again and I caught up on the gossip with an old friend. He recounted some interesting information. Firstly there was the unsubstantiated rumor that Mrs Sutter had almost been busted for prostitution in a town about an hours drive away. She had not been prosecuted but warned by the police for licentious behavior or some other similar term.

On another trip home, some even more disturbing information came to light. A friend had been attending a stag do at another city a couple of hours away. He recounted how someone had employed a stripper as a joke for the evening. She was obviously quite a mature woman but attractive, with a great body and very sexy. The get up she wore was pure s and m and included a face mask. The strip turned into a gang bang with the stripper taking on all comers, so to speak. Oral, anal, double and treble penetration, facials, the whole 9 yards. All unprotected sex as well which surprised the men somewhat but they were too fueled up to worry. My friend recounted how during one particular threesome the strippers mask had become dislodged and while she quickly put it back on, he swore it was Mrs Sutter! To deepen the mystery, after the stripper (hooker) had left, someone realized that no one had paid her. A truly bizarre occurrence in the sex industry. To further compound the drama and tragedy, one of the stag party attendees later developed HIV and can only put it down to that night.

To this day I wonder about Mrs Sutter. Had I turned her into some sort of frenzied sex addict or was I just a trigger? Had my moving away left her no outlet for her consuming passions? Had I simply been the one who happened to unlock these raging desires that would have erupted anyway given time? What culpability should I accept for the apparent devastation of her life? It still troubles me today.

But maybe this reduction to sexual degeneracy meant she was simply reverting to her true type.