The Sidecar Tales 03 - Anitra

In the background, I heard a woman screaming obscenities, and I followed the violent motions of her hips with my head neck. Then, taking a deep breath, I applied suction to her pussy, pulling her clit and her hood deeper into my mouth, and then held it there, holding my breath, as I swirled my tongue around the hyper-sensitive flesh. It was a good thing I had hold of her hips, because she nearly bucked me off, hammering at my back with her heels, and screaming obscene positional impossibilities to my head.

Several deep breath-holds later, I felt her go limp, and detached my limpet-hold on her pussy. I was afraid she catch the lanyard and card on something, and choke, so I took it off and laid it aside, near the sauna door.

She struggled back to consciousness in a few minutes, and just looked at me, eyes wide, and then regained that long, slow smile. Getting up, she staggered to the sauna door, opened it, and then turned, to wave me in with her.

Within a few minutes, both our naked bodies were coated with sweat. I started to think about sex with this sprawled-out feminine orgasm laying on the lower bench, but I fought that down. Engaging in any kind of sex in a sauna is an invitation to a heart attack, as the dry-air temperatures are well into Sahara-Desert ranges.

After some minutes, we both went out and took a fast shower in tepid water, and then back into the sauna. We went up to the second set of benches, which were the hottest, and literally poured sweat. I just watched that utterly lovely woman without a functioning memory, as, even in that torrid heat, she posed for my sight, emphasizing her breast and nipples, and showing me her legs, butt and pussy.

Another shower, and back to the top bench, and down to the bottom bench, and then out, to a final shower, and a vigorous towel off. As I stimulated her skin with the big towel, she turned to me, reading her lanyard, and said, "Tom Cattus, that was wonderful ... and so was the sauna."

Then she giggled, took a long pull at the bottle of water I'd brought her and put her head back on the lounger. She was asleep in ten seconds. I put her lanyard and card back around her neck and she didn't even twitch.

I cooked another stew that evening in the pressure-cooker, and we listened to music on the CD-stereo. At night, we made slow, lazy love, and which took me a long time to cum into her. I lost count of the number of orgasms she had on my cock, after the first dozen, but it was many. She screamed and talked sex all the way through all of them, telling me exactly what to do to her next.

But she slept in her own bed, and I slept alone, back in my guest room.

The next morning, after breakfast, and after I packed a lunch, I took her out on my motorbike, with her in the side car. She was wearing a combination sleeveless top and skirt of soft, stone-washed denim, cinched in at her waist with elastic. This outfit was closed with many buttons, from the skirt's ankle-length hem to a high-neck position, plus high walking moccasins. She carried a largish purse on a strap over her shoulder. Around her neck, she had what appeared to be a leather choker, with a couple of silver rings flat to the side. It was odd, but It looked good on her, with her flowing silver-blonde straight hair.

She had on her lanyard and card, but didn't seem to refer to it much.

We headed east from the city suburbs, and up into the Organ Mountain NWR. Coming in with Red, that brief time ago, I'd glanced off to my left, and spotted an intriguing pile of smooth rocks, apparently fringing a canyon. I drove the scooter+sidecar on up the paved road, and, when the pavement ended, powered up the hard-packed gravel to that same pile of rocks. Anitra was laughing and chattering away, with nine out of ten of her words snatched off into the wind.

I pulled the machine to a stop, and, getting off myself, helped her out of the sidecar. I grabbed up the food and drink supplies, plus the necessary old blanket, and pointed toward the cleft in the rocks I'd noted out of the side of my glance. Anitra started there, and I followed. Two narrow turns later, and the scooter and road were out of sight.

Anitra stopped, and told me to put my stuff down, which I did. She then flowed into my arms, and started a long, luscious, deep-throating kiss, which I loved and responded to. Breaking away, she looked at me, winked deliberately and bent down, to unfasten many of the buttons on the skirt portion of her dress. Her legs emerged, and she only stopped unbuttoning when her thighs were all but bare. Then she started unbuttoning the material around her throat and torso. Likewise, she only stopped when she reached her navel, leaving just five buttons closing her outfit around her waist.

I got kissed again, long and slow, with lots of body contact.

Finally, I picked up the supplies, and, rigid cock tenting out my pants, worked further into the rocky area, until we came to a fairly flat place. I dropped and spread the blanket, and Anitra flowed onto it, as I got out the lunch and drinks. I was treated to a nearly-nude lunch, as her breasts kept appearing, and then disappearing, when the denim material flopped open. Her legs were plainly visible. She wore the lanyard and card, but I didn't see her look at it.

After sandwiches and a small bottle of wine apiece, she snuggled up against me, and guided my hand around her waist. She brought her legs up, and then out, so that the opened denim material flopped down, exposing her naked body to the waist. I marveled at her exposed breasts for the umpteenth time, and gasped when her bare, shaven pussy was exposed.

She giggled, saying, "I love to tease you. You always react when I show you my tits, legs or pussy. I like that. You know we'll do sex in a little while, don't you?"

I just nodded, but then she got serious.

"You know, don't you?" she asked.

"About what," I replied.

"About my memory and getting a little better at remembering," she said, a little sadly.

"Well, uh, OK, that is, uh ..."

"Don't be scared," she said, "we're still going to make slippery, sloppy sex. I do so love to feel your hard cock inside me. I wouldn't miss any chance to fuck you: cock, tongue or fingers, I don't care."

"Well, I kind of guessed that you were remembering more than Red let on. You remembered my name a few times, without looking at your memory card, and you remembered how I fucked you, from the day before. Do you want to tell me about it?"

She grinned up at me, fiddling with the last five buttons holding her dress together.

She said, "I started to get suspicious when my book began to look all tattered and worn, but only the first chapter. The rest of the book was new. So I wrote myself a little note on the first page, and made a little tic-mark on the inside front cover, whenever I read that chapter. I knew something was really wrong, when, after a week, I counted over a hundred tics and I was still on the first chapter."

There were four buttons holding her dress together.

"So, I wrote myself some other notes, and tried to find memorization hints and techniques on the computer, when Red was away. It's still really hard to remember the little things, on a day-to-day basis, but I'm getting better at remembering the really important things. Like how my husband likes to see me be slutty and sexy, and how he likes to fuck me right after I get out of the pool, and how he likes to strip me mostly bare, when he brings a friend over.

I have to remember how he like me to dress up in really sexy and slutty outfits. I know he's still crazy-mad in love with me—and I'm just as crazy-mad for him—but I know that it really turns him on to show me off, and so I let out my exhibitionist side as often as I can."

Two buttons left.

"And it was very important for me to remember that my new lover, Mr. Tom Cattus, likes to look at and play with my tits, and likes to be teased, and really loves to fuck me deep, hard and slow, until the last, when he has me hard, deep and fast. So I have to remember to let him see my tits, and flash him my pussy, play with my toys and invite him to put his hard penis into his friend's wife as often as he can get it up."

One button left.

"I especially want to fuck my lover so he can hear the sound of his cock sliding in and out of me, and hear me talk about how good his loving feels, and how it makes me want to do really slutty things, like this."

No buttons.

Her dress flopped open. She was nude. She reached into her big purse, and pulled out a set of padded ankle cuffs, which she attached to each ankle, snapping them together. Then she spread her knees and thighs, and, spinning on her buttocks, worked her legs over my head, shoulders and waist, from the side.

She freed my straining cock from my trousers, pulling them down and off my legs. She shifted her weight onto my thighs, so my straining cock was pointed up, along her belly.

Then, reaching into her bag again, she put on a set of padded wrist cuffs, with snaps at the end, which clicked in place to the collar she was wearing. I had a completely nude woman, smiling and giggling, up against my rigid cock, with her hands held to her neck, and now clasped around the back of her head."

"Look at me, Tom. Look right at my tits. See how the nipples are hard, and pointing at you. I can't push you away, and I can't kick you away, either. My legs are apart. My cunt can't get away, either. I have to sit here, with your arms around me, supporting me and feeling my tits and clit up, while you get your cock into me, and then fuck me. But you can't pound hard, so you'll have to take a loooong time to fuck me, while I talk to you, and scream, and have orgasms, and maybe squirt sometimes.

We can both look down and watch your big cock going into me and then out, over and over, while you tell me what a slut I am, and how slutty I look and how much you want to fuck and cum into me."

"I'll try to remember what you say, so when we get home, and you're rested—maybe tomorrow—I can do some of the things you want a cunt-slut to do, to entertain you and your wonderful fucking cock."

Anitra pulled back her hips, and I pushed my hard cock down. Working together, we fitted the head into her wet lips, and that's all she wrote. I slid into her, to the depth of my pubic bone, and she gasped, and squealed, "Oh shit, you're in. Don't move. Don't pull back. Oh, I'm so fuckin' full." She lunged toward me several times, gasping and then demanded that I start a real deep, slow fuck.

I did. Her legs were around me, and we both watched my shaft disappear into her body and then re-emerge in the classic slow-fuck pattern. We both heard the suck-squish, suck-squish of a hard penis being fucked in and out of a very willing, very wet woman. I held her waist with one hand and caressed her breasts and super-hard nipples with my other, as she dropped her head back, looking up at the sky and crying a little with orgasmic pleasure.

Forcing my rigid member deep within her, I pulled her body close, mashing her magnificent tits against my chest, as I kissed her very thoroughly. Kissed her like a lesbian woman would kiss a lover she was going to fuck, while I thrust and thrust into her with my male counterpart, below. Her hands, self-imprisoned by the padded wrist cuffs, supported her head, and I had total control of her body, including inside her vagina, her G-spot and her clit.

I broke the kiss, to order her, "Fuck me like a slut. Anitra, you're a super-slut. Now show me how a slut kisses and uses her naked tits and fucks a man. I'm deep inside you, and I'm gonna cum, when I'm ready. I wanna cum inside a married, multi-orgasmic slut."

She smiled, and then it lit up like a 100-watt bulb, as she started a three-dimensional rotation of her hips, and also started arching her back, thrusting her tits out at me. I saw her nipples, already large, get even harder and grow longer. I nipped and tongued these, pulling, twisting and tugging at first one and then the other, as I kept changing hands.

"Oh, yessss, I AM a slut. I'm a married woman having slutty sex with a man, and I don't even know who he is. But his cock is really into me, and I'm twisting my hips, so he can get even more pleasure from my naked body. Ahhh, yess, I'm cummmmming. YEAH!"

She did, and I felt the crush of her vaginal muscles around my cock, and the change in her lubrication, as my cock continued to ravage her womanhood.

"Ahhh, that was nice. Now another is building. A nice slutty cum for you. I wanna dance for you, as soon as you tell me who you are, so I can spread my thighs and gush out your creampie, when you cum inta my slutt-cunt. Yeah! Cummming, gonna cum, RIGHT NOW!"

Another clasp around my piercing cock, to prove that it wasn't faked, and she was twisting and thrusting, her cums getting harder and more frequent, as she grated out her innermost thoughts and fantasies for my eager ears. God, she was a cum-slut. I heard about pulling trains, and gang-bangs, and doing photo and video shoots, and fucking in public places, and taking all ages of men into her, as well as fucking her husband in the most slutty ways possible.

Suddenly, Anitra gasped, and started a low, tense screaming. Her eyes were rolled up in her head, which was thrown back, and her back arched. She was squealing in both exhalation and inhalation, and she was cumming. She didn't stop cumming, while I speeded up, trying for my own orgasm. She continued a continuous orgasm, as I grunted, screamed aloud, and, cursing and swearing about married blonde sluts, came and came and came my jism into her.

She continued to orgasm, as I drooped, but around my still partially-hard cock. She continued orgasming, even when I fell out of her, and watched my creampie drooling out of her lips, and falling with thick white drops to the rock below us.

She finally stopped her steady scream, as I ripped open the Velcro holding the wrist cuffs closed, and did the same, behind me, with the ankle cuffs. I spun her limp body around, and cuddled her against my chest, before my own lights went, and I passed out.

The sun was lower on the horizon when I awoke, and lower still by the time I got Anitra mostly dressed, and carried (over the shoulder, Fireman's Carry style) to the sidecar. I half-placed and half-dumped her in, and fastened the seatbelt. It was a struggle fitting the helmet to an 80% out-of-it woman. I went back for the blanket and picnic stuff.

It took a longish time to get back to her house, out of Las Cruces. I sort of dragged her inside, and poured her into her own bed. Then, dragging myself, I obeyed my promise to her, and went to my own bed in the spare room (I'd fuck Red's wife, but not sleep in his own bed with the wife I'd just fucked ... go figure).

About three o'clock in the morning, I woke up to discover I had to pee, and when I returned to bed, Anitra was there, too. She murmured something about staying a slut, and that meant being a slut-wife in bed, too. Trying to figure out what that meant, I fell back asleep, in a tangle of womanly lips, arms, legs, hair and breasts.

The next several days settled into a routine. I'd wake, go piss, and return to find Red's slut-wife in bed, and we'd have morning sex. Then I fixed breakfast, and laze around, recovering. She do yoga, and masturbate for herself and me. A lot of the time, she'd 'forget' and leave her dildo inside her, with the handle sticking out, which was an open invitation for me to come over, work it in and out, and deliver her to another series of orgasms.

I will never forget the times she utilized her very strong cuntal muscles, and walked up to me, with the handle of her best glass dildo protruding from her cuntal slit, and invite me to bring her off, as she stood in from of me, bare tits swinging and swaying.

I'd fix lunch.

Then we'd practice memory drills and perhaps take a scooter/sidecar trip. Then we'd come back, or maybe take a sauna and swim, and make out with maximum lewdness. In the twilight, after dinner, she'd do dress-up in some scandalous maxi-slut garment—her favorite was the mesh thing that covered most of her while concealing nothing, with the open crotch—the one she was wore when she pulled the train with 27 guys, just before the accident.

Sometimes, she'd cuff herself to a sex-wedge of soft foam, by the wrists, ankles and thighs, and demand that I fuck her while she could do nothing but fuck me back. Then I'd slowly rape her, while she egged me on, and screamed with multi-mega orgasmic pleasure. I'd go to bed alone, and wake up in the wee-hours of the morning, to find myself in bed with a sleepy hot-wife.

And repeat.

Red phoned me every couple of days, to get a check-up on his wife, and tell me of his progress on the marine case. It turned out that it lasted for about three weeks, and during that time, I lost about 12 lbs. of weight, trying to keep up with Mrs. Returning-Memory Sex-Slut.

But it was the evening before Red was due to return that I just about lost it, as Anitra made a supreme effort to be the most utterly slutty woman I've ever met.

I'd packed up the scooter and all my stuff, including the pressure cooker (we'd both ordered another, and she remembered that she'd done it, as one of her memory exercises), and so we ate out at a fast-food burger place. My lover was dressed conservatively—at least then she was—and she relaxed against me after we got back, letting me play with her breasts and nipples, and getting me pretty hot.

But, suddenly, she broke away, and beckoned me back out the terrace. She'd set up a portable CD player, choosing the famous piece by Maurice Ravel, the Bolero. I knew she was going to dance for me, and that I'd fuck her right afterward. But she pushed me away, and bent to get some items out of her 'bag-of-tricks."

She said, giggling, "I wanted to test these little thingees out on you before Red gets a taste. Watch me!"

She was already nude, and freshly shaved everywhere. Then she attached a little gold collar around each already-distended nipple, and led a thin gold chain from each up to her neck, and through a collar she hand on there. The collar was fairly thick, and seemed more bulky that it needed to be. Next, she inserted a vibrating egg into her pussy, and placed a clit-stimulator, too. Both of these had thin chains attached, and she attached these chains down between her legs, and then led them up to her collar, leading the along her spine. Finally, she carefully inserted a butt-plug into her ass. It, too, had a thin gold chain attached, and she led it up to her collar, and attached it.

Then she came over, and stood before me, proudly displaying all of her womanly openings and erogenous zones, apparently wired up.

She said, smiling, "All of these chains have a thin electrical wire through them. Everything leads to this collar. Inside the collar is a timing-thing and a current director thing, and a couple of batteries. When I turn it on, the director-thing starts to send electricity to all the buzzers and stimulators.

But not all at once. It sends out the 'juice' to each wire randomly, and it turns on and off for a random length of time. So I never know when, or where, or how much stimulation I'm going to get. I can be dancing, and then hit with pleasure in my tits, cunt, clit or ass. Any one, or any combination, or all at once.e Oh, yes, and the stimulation gets stronger as the minutes go on."

She started to give me a kiss, and then added, "Oh yeah, I forgot, but then I remembered. I can't turn it off until the end of the recording, so I'm gonna be performing orgasms while I dance, just for your pleasure. Now take out your cock, so I can look at it—it's gonna be my reward, for getting to the end of the Bolero without passing out. You can stroke it while I dance, but don't you dare cum, 'cause I want to be LAID and HAD and TAKEN when it's all over."