Dark Fantasies

by T West

  The next thing she felt was the huge head of the big, hard cock rubbing up and down the length of her ass crack, and she felt firm hands on her pert, round ass cheeks. She attempted to relax, and with powerful thrusts of his muscular hips, Gatson slid his cock up and down the inside of her cheeks without penetration, wanking his dick with her crack. He slid his cock up and down, up and down, before slapping his meat off Sarah’s ass and resting it on her flesh.

  She loved the sensation and moaned loudly, her breathing hitched and ragged.

  Abruptly, Gatson stopped. Sarah stayed as she was, horny as hell, the man’s pre-cum dripping onto the desk below.

  “What are you doing now?” She queried, even though she had a feeling she knew what the answer was.

  “You’ll see,” said Gatson, as she felt his warm hands on his ass. He smacked both cheeks, and she felt a finger tracing up and down the length of her pussy from behind. Her eyes widened as she felt the long, thick digit begin to enter her. He fingered her tenderly, loosening her up, sliding his digit in and out.

  He stopped, and instantly Sarah found herself dying for him to continue. Once more she felt those hands on her hips, and with one powerful thrust Gatson drove his tremendous cock deep into her incredibly tight pussy. With him buried deep, she felt some cold jello-type lotion being squirted down her crack, which trickled down onto the shaft. She felt two more very firm smacks on her ass cheeks, and Gatson really got to it.

  He pulled his cock out of her momentarily and without any warning plunged himself balls deep inside her again, making her scream out loudly in surprise. Her eyes started to water as she yelled and writhed.

  “Now it’s time to get shafted. Just chill out.” He told her sternly.

  Sarah closed her eyes and attempted to relax as directed, as Gatson deeply penetrated her, driving in and out repeatedly. It was an overwhelming blend of thrill and soreness. As she wailed and clutched at the desktop, the delight incredibly began to overpower the discomfort, and the girl found herself more turned on than she ever had been in her life. She reached down and worked her clit, hazardously close to cumming but not quite there yet. He grabbed her hair and pulled it back firmly. She could feel those sizeable balls slapping against her, images of salads being tossed and porn flicks flashing through her mind. He gave him a hard shafting for what seemed like an eternity, before pulling out and leaving her agape hole aching but astonishingly ready for more attention.

  In a quick and fluid movement, Gatson rolled onto his back and Sarah straddled him, her thighs snugly fitting around the older man’s. She steered the mammoth tool towards her snatch, and eased her slim frame down on it, letting her pussy swallow it once again. There she was, on top, in control, moving her hips and sliding up and down on the big stiff cock. She bounced up and down, riding the meat, looking into her boss's eyes, the man’s hands reaching up to tweak her nipples as they wobbled and jiggled graciously. She reached down and rubbed her clit, and while holding eye-contact they both felt a magnificent climax build up. The frantic working of her button and the huge shaft slipping in and out of her made Sarah cum hard. Her body shook with overwhelming waves of excitement, and she squirted all over the older man’s big sack.

  Wanting to reach his own finish, Gatson held onto Sarah’s hips and dominantly bounced her up and down. His heavily muscular arms meant it was an easy task, as he slammed her on and off his cock like a fuckdoll. She screamed and moaned as the big man used her body, the head of his cock hitting her insides in the most exquisite way and sending rushes of euphoria all the way up her backbone. Although on top, Sarah was completely at the big man’s mercy, being used and abused, and ready to receive every last drop of Gatson’s potent release.

  Gatson released the grip on her hips and Sarah dismounted. They both stood up on the desktop, and he turned her around so she was facing away from him. He held her by the waist and lifted her up, her feet dangling in mid air. He plunged her back down on his rod, spearing her again but this time from a standing position, the older man’s strength not letting up for a second as he jammed her on and off his cock. Sarah was like a living breathing fuckrag, her arms flailing in the air, trying to regain some sort of control. But soon she gave up and completely gave herself over, at his absolute mercy. Gatson’s thighs tensed as his toes curled, gripping the desktop. He powered his hips, ramming Sarah’s pussy with perfect timing, sliding his cock almost all the way out before pounding back in, bottoming out in her snug hole. His massive balls swung beneath his thick thighs, slapping against her stomach and nearly hitting the air out of her as he screwed her relentlessly.

  He gripped her by the arms and held her out in front of him, his arms outstretched. Gatson came hard and they cried out in chorus, his sperm gushing into her. It felt like a hammering, rushing onslaught of warm water, flooding her insides. He made sure to keep every last inch of his cock locked deep inside the girl’s body while he released his semen, as surge after surge of goo flowed into her. Whilst keeping her arms outstretched, he very carefully pulled out, watching his girth slide out inch by inch. At last the head cleared her aching snatch, every last drop of sperm buried deep inside her. He gently let Sarah down onto the desk, the boss taking a breather and lying down on his back.

  Gasping, Sarah collapsed next to him on the desk, her hands caressing his muscular pecs as she rested her head on the man’s shoulder.

  “That wasn't so painful now, was it?” Gatson joked. “Just wait till you give birth.”

  -----

  PUNISHED AT THE OFFICE PARTY

  By

  Tess West

  T rish Hollins never did like office parties.

  They seemed fake, somehow. Everyone always acted way too happy to be seeing their co-workers after hours, and proceeded to drown their discomfort in whatever alcoholic beverage was being served. Except for those who were the designated drivers – they just sat in the corner looking vaguely irritated and watching their exuberant charges giggle and twirl around the makeshift dance floor.

  Trish was one of those people, though she was sneaking a small drink. It was just a little glass of sangria, nothing that would get her even tipsy. Despite Trish’s slim frame, it took quite a lot of alcohol to get her inebriated and incapable of driving a vehicle. So, she leaned against the far wall and took periodic sips of the ruby red liquid in her plastic cup, watching everyone around her.

  A woman, new to the office, was dancing around in the center of the room with two of her friends. The three women were squealing in immensely high-pitched voices, and Trish fought the urge to wince. They were perfectly nice ladies during the day, perhaps too nice, but alcohol made them insufferable.

  Trish was a cautious young woman, one could tell that just by looking at her. She was always careful in the things she said and did, her movements deliberate and measured. Even as she brought the cup up to her light pink lips, she moved her arm slowly and fixed her eyes on the sangria before tipping it upwards, sipping the alcohol gently into her mouth.

  She brushed a hand across her chin, scratching an itch that was bothering her. She rolled her shoulders back against the wall - they’d grown stiff from standing there so long, as she always hunched when she stood.

  “Trish!”

  Trish fought the urge not to roll her eyes, and instead turned with a convincing smile to face a man a few years older than she was. It was Frank Tippins, a potbellied and balding man who looked much older than he actually was. Although in different years, they’d gone to the same high school back in the day, and the man never let her forget it. From the sound of his voice and the unfocused state of his eyes, Tippins was already roaring drunk.

  “You’ve been hitting the drink,” Trish stated simply.

  “Of course I have,” Tippins slurred. “Why haven’t you? Even I can tell how painfully sober you are, Hollins.” He clapped Trish on the shoulder with a wide, chubby hand. He smelled faintly of perspiration, and Trish wrinkled her nose.

  “I’m driving a few of t
hese folks home tonight,” she said, tipping her glass in the direction of two men and a woman standing a few yards away, laughing loudly. “Drinking and driving is not a thing I like to do.”

  “Of course, of course,” Tippins said, nodding dumbly. “I understand. Why aren’t you talking to these lovely people then, if you’re their ride? Why are you over here all by yourself?” He raised a hand and opened his mouth, sucking in a deep breath as if preparing to shout at the group in question and get their attention.

  “No, no,” Trish said hastily, grabbing Tippins’ hand out of the air and tugging it back downwards. “I’m fine by myself, Tippins, really. I’m enjoying my alone time.”

  The drunk man observed her with bloodshot eyes, before shrugging. “Whatever suits you,” he slurred. “Me? I think I’m going to get another drink.”

  Trish wasn’t at all sure that was a good idea, but she also didn’t think trying to prevent a full grown man from getting more alcohol would go over well, and more than likely cause a scene. So instead she waltzed over to the group of coworkers she was driving home, and pointed Tippins out to them.

  “Tippins is beyond hammered,” she said meaningfully, pointing over her shoulder at him. “And I think he’s going for more drinks.”

  Hazel, a pretty woman with black hair and green eyes, squinted over at Tippins. “Oh, yeah,” she said, serious despite her own intoxication. “He doesn’t look good. Harry, c’mon Harry, go talk to him.” She reached over and shook the arm of the man standing next to her, her fiancé.

  Confident that she’d done her part, Trish told the group that she was running to the bathroom, picked up her bag, and exited the packed room. She sighed and leaned against the wall in the hallway. She hadn’t realized how hot she’d gotten just from standing in there.

  She reached into her bag, which had been leaning up against the wall too. After a few moments of fishing around inside, she unearthed a black box, which looked to contain something expensive. After a subtle glance up and down the hallway, she pried it open to reveal a gleaming watch. It was gold with a handsome leather strap. She examined it closely, before placing the box’s cover back on. She set off down the hallway, and walked up the staircase.

  Moments later, she turned right into an office. She knocked tentatively before entering, but it was empty. She walked inside, her heart thumping from nerves, and placed the box gently on the desk. She stepped back for a moment, observing it, before remembering the card that went along with it, which she slipped just beneath the box.

  Her boss’s birthday had just passed that past weekend. Although the man had insisted on no presents from the office, Trish had disobeyed. She was desperately hoping for a promotion and a pay raise to come out of this. Hope swelled in her chest as she looked down at the little black box – this was something she really needed.

  “Hollins?”

  A familiar deep voice spoke from the office doorway. It was her boss, Mr Brooks.

  The big, strong man strolled into his office, shut the door, and looked at the gift on his desk. Trish offered him a smile, but he didn’t smile back. Rather, he virtually glared at her. He seemed a little pissed.

  “Hi. You really do mean business this evening,” Trish jested, trying to lighten the mood. But Brooks wasn’t laughing.

  “Trish, just shut up for a minute and come here.” Her boss said, perching on the edge of his large desk, the room dimly lit by the desklamp.

  Trish did as she was told, like a good girl.

  She stood before him. Brooks reached out and cupped her left breast through her top. He squeezed it, a little too hard. Trish gasped. It wasn’t shocking pain, but enough to give her a jolt of surprise. He had never done anything like this before and she was actually starting to feel a little bit scared.

  “Ummm, sir… that kinda hurts.” Trish informed him.

  Tremors of excitement shot down from her pussy to her trembling legs.

  “Oh really, does it? Well, poor you. So, let’s continue.”

  With that, he got up and wandered over to the filing cabinet, opened the top drawer and took out a brown box. It looked just like a shoe box. “You brought me a gift, Trish, when I specifically told you not to. So, now I’ve got a gift for you.”

  He brought it back over to the desk, set it down and opened the lid. Trish stood there motionless, and observed in astonishment as he took out a dildo. A big, black dildo with big black balls. It seemed to have a round suction pad at the base, behind the balls. Brooks plonked it on the desktop and reached into the box again, this time taking out a tube of lube. “Rather a big boy, isn’t he Trish?”

  Trish didn’t say anything for a moment. Well, yeah. No shit. It’s gigantic. She tried to make sense of all this. “That can’t be for me, sir. It’s not my birthday for another couple of months.”

  Brooks didn’t respond, and instead held it up next to Trish’s groin area. She began to feel rather uncomfortable. He pushed the big black head up against the young woman’s snatch through her trousers. “No good deed goes unpunished, as the saying goes, Trish.”

  She came to the realization of what was going to become of her. Sure, she was horny as hell, but she had tried her utmost to hide it from Brooks, of all people. Getting nailed by her boss would no doubt cause all kinds of problems for her budding young career. But this time, burning lust won out. Deep in her heart of hearts she knew that Brooks was the man she had been dreaming about, the one that could give her what she so desperately needed.

  But she had to be sure. “And so... what were you thinking?” Trish asked, monitoring her boss’s reaction to her words, almost trying to persuade him to continue.

  Brooks stared at her and said, “This is just for foreplay. It’s a gift. From me. To you.”

  As butterflies swarmed in her stomach she said, “But… I don’t think I can take such a tool...”

  Brooks shook his head. “When you see how big I am, this thing will seem like the size of a lollypop. We’re doing this. Understand?”

  Trish gulped hard, and everything seemed to go into slow motion for a few seconds, while what Brooks had just said to her started to settle in. But she soon realized she probably didn’t have much say in the matter, and nor did she want to. She wanted to give herself over to him, completely and without holding anything back.

  Brooks put his hands on her shoulders and pressed her down to a sitting position on the edge of the desk.

  The boss was in total control. He pulled her trousers and underwear completely off and spread her thighs wide, making her lie back on the cold oak. He held her legs open, and started running the tip of his finger up and down her pussy. Trish squirmed around in delight, enjoying how good it felt.

  She shut her eyes and threw her head back. But Brooks stopped playing. A couple of seconds later she felt some cool, goopy gel being dripped onto her pussy. She opened her eyes and glanced down, this time observing Brooks’ long, thick index finger starting to press against her pink entrance, harder than before. She gasped as the boss forced his finger into her, all the way to his large third knuckle. All emotions of humiliation fast faded but Trish’s slight worry remained, as she got fingered and probed.

  “Get on all fours on the desktop. Turn over,” Brooks instructed.

  No doubt he’s going to relax me a bit more first, Trish thought, but didn’t dare complain or say anything out loud. She turned over, got on her hands and knees, and shut her eyes. But there was no need – before she knew it Brooks had blindfolded her, securing the scarf tightly around her head with a firm knot. The young woman heard a rustling and some commotion, as she sensed the boss walk over to the side of the desk where her head was.

  “I used to work on a farm y'know, before entering into the business world. Those dairy cows had such full teats,” Trish heard him say over her shoulder, as he walked back round behind her. He slipped his finger into her pussy from behind. He started to circle her throbbing clit while his finger was buried deep. Blindfolded, she felt her face go a
maroon red as her lady-juice oozed in a long, thin line onto the oak beneath her.

  Without warning Brooks stopped and whispered, “Say goodnight, princess.”

  With her eyes still tightly shut, in her mind's eye Trish could see her boss clutching the dildo in his hand and smearing a dollop of lube on the plastic head. She anticipated that she was going to get stretched wide. Brooks smacked her ass, hard. “Arch your back for me, girl. Here it comes.”

  Trish did as instructed. She arched her back and spread her thighs a little more. Suddenly, she felt the head press up against her anxious hole. It felt even bigger than she thought it would. There’s no way this big black beast of a toy is going to fit inside me, she thought, as Brooks grabbed a hold of her waist. But the boss had readied her enough, and he started to drive forward, pressing the toy into her pussy. The head slid in, and Trish yelled out, but before she got the chance to say a word, Brooks yanked her hips back and speared forward, jamming several inches of the wide shaft right up inside, drilling her.