Samantha Scratches an Old Itch

"The next thing I knew my mother was knocking, and saying, 'Are you still in there, dear? Are you finished?' I unlocked the door and we changed places, my mother's face wrinkling with distaste. 'It so smells in here!' Then she saw the puddle on the concrete floor by the wall -- my puddle. 'People are so disgusting.'

"I agreed with her, breathing a sigh of relief when I saw the hole had been filled with a wad of toilet paper."

Belle went on, re-living it, "I was so disappointed to find the other cubicle had already been vacated. There were men nearby, in the picnic area, but I had no idea which one was the pervert who'd gotten me to pee on his cock. It was an unfair advantage. He had probably seen me come out, and now knew who had been on the other side of the wall.

"Every time an older man looked at me my skin crawled. Anyhow, I went down to the river and washed my feet and hands. Then I put on my new bikini and dunked my private parts in the cold water too, hoping that killed any germs."

Belle was still working on my cock, controlling my pleasure so I wouldn't come.

I said, "You really were a sexy little minx." It was a compliment. "What else did you get up to?"

"I certainly didn't pee on anybody."

"I'll take that as only ever having happened once."

"That would be the truth." Our eyes met.

I asked, "What are you hiding?"

"Nothing."

"You are."

She was blushing.

"What did you do?"

"Before I knew about boys and sex I had discovered there was a soft hole between my legs that gave me pleasure when I touched it or experimented with putting things in it."

"Objects?"

"Bananas were my favourite. They'd end up rather mushy and I'd eat them to hide the evidence ... though I thought that was slightly disgusting when they'd been down there where I pee from. I used to love feeling wicked and depraved though."

"Did you use other things?"

"The handle of my hairbrush -- other objects like that."

"And?" I could tell she was holding back.

"The fountain."

"What fountain?"

"It was in the back garden at home and hidden from the world by shrubbery. It was just a metal pipe gushing up water at the centre of a round pool. The open lip flared like a man's glans -- not that I knew that then. On hot days I'd go out and squat on it with the pipe inserted between my labia. It was like a douche -- or having a colonic in the wrong hole. It was beautiful! I think I must have had the cleanest vagina of any girl in school that summer."

"Did you ever get caught at it?"

"By my little brother once. He was too young then to understand what I'd been doing on the pipe. He just wanted to know why I had my clothes off, and he looked fascinated by the way my anatomy was different from his. It was before I'd grown any pubic hair. I told him I was just keeping cool, and let him bathe with his clothes off too so my little secret would be safe. I said I'd tell on him if he told on me."

"How big was the diameter of the pipe?"

"About the size of a well-endowed man -- and un-forgivingly rigid -- so it hadn't been easy getting it in the first few times. After a while my entrance and vagina stretched. I guess that early activity is why I've never had trouble dilating enough to fit a man, even though I'm petite."

I stayed with the mental picture of a cunt-rimmed pipe expelling water. "I bet you looked cute doing that when you were a girl."

"I was still too young then to have liked being looked at by a man."

"Maybe the next time we're staying with your parents you can demonstrate what you used to do."

"I don't think so... Though we could visit to pick up one of my old high school gym frocks -- for an idea I have -- that's if you really want to let me fuck other guys..."

Not giving me the chance to reply, she lowered her head and engulfed one end of my cock in her wet mouth.

Belle decided she wanted to do it outdoors the first time. We chose a secluded path in an inner-city park. Dressed in her gym frock, and without makeup, she looked like a schoolgirl. I concealed myself in the bushes. Belle stood beside the pathway, hoping a man would eventually come along by himself. She had to wait twenty minutes, likely getting more and more nervous and sexually excited.

With clean-shaven pubes, and not wearing panties, she bunched up her pleated frock at the front and exposed herself almost to the waist as the man approached. "Hey, mister, do you like my cunt?" She used her best schoolgirl voice with a pixie smile. "You can fuck it for free if you want."

On other occasions, too, I watched my wife being mounted in the act of sex -- often nude. Men tended to dwarf her, making it look like they were with a teenager. She always contrived a way that I could be concealed but still get a good view of whatever they did to her. And she didn't draw the line at much, sometimes allowing deviant activities I would never think of asking of a woman.

She still insisted on guys not using condoms, but had regular STD check as a precaution. AIDS hadn't appeared on the scene then, so early-detected venereal diseases had cures, making it seem safe enough to take the risks.

She only agreed to one on ones with the men she picked up -- mostly weeks apart -- but sometimes had multiple partners in one night, though never with the same man twice. A desire for novelty drove her.

Eventually she went a step further by setting up a garden gang-bang at a party we crashed. She said, afterwards, it was so I could mingle and watch without having to hide. No one knew us, and we acted as if we weren't together.

Most men treat Belle like she'd break easily, because she's petite -- as many Latin-American women are -- but other men take advantage and want to screw her in sexual positions that wouldn't be as easy with a bigger woman.

The gang-bangers fell into the latter group, and had a sadistic streak. A guy asked if she enjoyed pain before sex. She said she wasn't averse to the idea. They stripped her in the moonlight then four of them held her spread-eagled in midair. Another guy took off his broad leather belt. Standing between her ankles, he started to slap her genitals obscenely with one end of it. Belle whimpered but didn't protest or struggle, giving me no reason to think she was unwilling to suffer the humiliation or the pain. She even arched her back so that her bare pubic mound stood out more prominently.

"Feel that on your little cunt, bitch?" The guy was playing with her, not quite slapping hard enough to bruise or bring up a welt. Even so, in such a sensitive place, it must have been excruciating -- or stimulating -- or both. The skin over her outer labia was turning pink, her puffy buns split by the pressure of her legs being held open. If the softness inside got any protection it was from the slippery lubricant oozing out from her.

"Do you want it harder, slut?"

Belle groaned, shaking her head.

He kept taunting her, "So you like this, slut? It hurts, doesn't it?"

"Yes, it stings me down there."

Men around me had their cocks out, stimulating themselves as they watched.

"You want it harder, don't you, bitch?"

She yelped when the belt came down one final time.

"You're glowing now," the guy said. "The hood of your clit looks like Rudolf's nose. It'll guide us where we all want to go when we're ready."

Belle whimpered, probably feeling too sore to even contemplate sexual intercourse.

"Kneel her down."

Bell was deposited on her knees, whitely naked in the moonlight. The guy told her, "Reach behind and hold your ankles."

She bent backwards at the waist and complied.

"Knees further apart."

She spread her thighs.

"Not bad," the guy said, admiring the very visible sex between the tops of her legs, her thrust out hips and belly, and the small up-tilted tits on her chest. "It's just a pity there isn't more flesh on you, bitch."

Belle said boldly, "I've never left men disappointed."

The guy chuckled at her cheek. "You'd better not start now then, slut, small as you are."

No one took any notice of me. I was just another face in the crowd. If I chose to watch rather than participate that just meant someone else got a quicker turn.

Most of the gang-bangers used her body to masturbate on while she held the provocatively bent pose she had been put in. She turned the discomfort and degradation to play by her smouldering glances and appreciative smiles. Streamers of cum laced over her tits and belly and ran trails down to her groin. Warm jism had even landed right on her genital split, soaking in shallowly but visible like a watery paste caught between her labia.

Belle seemed to enjoy every moment of being objectified.

They started fucking her, one cock replacing another in her cunt. Ignoring her gasps and whimpers, men took turns holding her legs open while she was ravaged in various positions. Gang-bangers didn't give sluts respect or pity.

When they were finished they melted away, returning to the main party. No one really noticed I stayed behind. Belle lay sprawled on the ground nude -- faint -- with male cum drooling out of her gaping holes and pooling in the grass. I'd seen other men's cum leaking out of her before, but never that much.

I gathered her clothes for her, but couldn't find her panties. Somehow I got her dressed and on her feet. She limped out to the car supported by my arm and, once home, slept for 24 hours. I was with her when she woke.

"It's time we stopped this," I said.

She looked guilty, "I guess it is."

"We can go back to being exclusive, can't we?"

"You never strayed, did you. While I had all those men..."

"It was about letting you get it out of your system. I never wanted anyone but you once we fell in love."

"That's all that matters now -- having each other. I'm tired of anything else."

Neither of us really believed what she said. I was as addicted to seeing her sexually abused as she was to letting men do it; but it was nice of her to say to me what she had.

I sat on the edge of the bed and hugged her. She was naked, and still smelt of the men she had been with at the party -- a cloying odour of stale semen. "You need a warm bath," I said, "then we'll put it behind us."

Belle did go back to one-on-one extra-marital couplings, though not as often as before, and never with more than one man the same night. One gang-bang seemed enough to satisfy her curiosity. Even so, she had a sexual appetite that continued to amaze me, and I was happy watching her indulge it. We just couldn't help ourselves.