Dirty Forbidden Collection

by Amira Bradford

  She heard him enter the room behind her and gasp, he told her she looked amazing. She could not help herself and looked at the bulge at the front of his costume. It was huge and it made her heart beat faster. He was dressed similarly except for boots and she noticed how much she liked it. He apologised and produced one last item of clothing for her to wear. He gently wrapped the Black PVC boned corset around her waist and began to pull the laces tight asking her each time if it was enough. She kept on answering no enjoying the delicious squeeze around her waist. She finally told him enough and turned to look at herself in the mirror. She looked stunning her waist was nipped in and the garment pushed her ample tits out straining against the material. She could almost make out her nipples which were growing hard. She felt totally encased now trapped within a latex prison and she did not want to escape.

  She sat down and without a word he cradled her boots in his hands and began to lick and suck them. She could feel his tongue working and a fire began to burn between her legs. This was wonderful she had never felt this before and all he was doing was licking her boots, she let out a lttle sigh. He slowly traveled up her legs and along her thigh then very gently pushed her legs apart and began to kiss her pussy through the latex. She closed her eyes and moaned a little she could feel how wet she was and how slippery his tongue felt against the latex as he licked and kissed. She reached down and unzipped her crotch she kept herself shaven which he obviously loved as he began to eat her. She gasped the pleasure was incredible as she felt his tongue eagerly and urgently find her clitoris. He could hear her moaning and sensed she wanted more so he began to finger fuck her. His latex gloves slipping easily in and out of her wet hole. One finger then two, then three. She greedily pushed her pussy into his face nearing her orgasm. He felt her beginning to cum he was amazed that this gorgeous women was allowing him this incredible honour. She shouted as she came once again forcing his face into her soaking pussy and demanding he drink all of her cum which he did greedily.

  She told him to lie on his back she wanted to see this monster between his legs. She unzipped him and eased his cock out, he was huge. Long and fat it made her husbands look like a peashooter. She poured the lubricant into her hands then wrapped her rubberclad fingers around it and slowly began to pump. He whimpered a little the sensation was incredible she looked at her hand gripping his engorged penis the shiny black gloves contrasted against the pinkness of his penis. She began to stroke faster and faster his moans increasing as he squirmed beneath her. She was using two hands now and wanking him hard. The large head of his cock was purple and she could see the precum dribbling down the sides mixing with the lube so her gloves made a squelching sound as she pumped. She told him she would countdown from 10 to 0 and at 0 he would cum. Slowly she counted down watching him closely his eyes were tight shut struggling with his so close orgasm. Zero now cum she shouted he erupted into the air splashing down all over her gloves she did not stop she wanted to milk this monster cock dry. She watched him greedily lick his own cum off her gloves panting as he did so.

  She asked him to put on a pair of rubber penis pants which just about contained his manhood. She was very wet now and positioned herself over his rubber covered cock which now looked shiny and menacing. She lowered herself so his head was nudging her pussy lips and then slowly began to impale herself. As he sank into her she felt herself being stretched like she was never stretched with her husband. She threw back her head as she orgasmd the sensation and pleasure of sliding down onto his huge cock and feeling him in her was enough to make her cum. She took him all the way in and then began to push herself back up again. She could hear her boots creaking as she rode up and down on him. The sound only leather can make when rubbed together and as she began to realise one of the horniest sounds ever.

  Right at that moment her phone rang it was her husband Peter, she decided to answer it feeling very smug. He demanded to know where she was and what she was doing. She sighed deeply and told him that she was being fucked by a huge rubber cock and loving it, she humiliated him further by telling him how big it was and what it was doing to her pussy. She went on to tell him that it was so much bigger than his and how many times she had cum so far. He was silent as she told him how she was dressed and what she had done and what she was going to do. She was so excited talking to her dumbfounded husband that she came as she was speaking to him. He sounded like a little lamb at the other end of the phone when he asked will you be home soon darling. She told him she would be home when she was good and satisfied and not to wait up. Smiling to herself she hit the end call button not giving him chance to answer. She rode her rubber stallion on and on, her head swimming with orgasm after orgasm both of them sweating heavily in their rubber suits. In between fucking she would dismount and take him into her mouth sucking & licking all of her own juices from his rock hard rubber covered member.

  She arrived home and sure enough he was waiting for her. She knew that he would be. He looked sheepish and without a word of complaint he kissed her on the cheek and asked if her evening was a good one. She smiled as she handed him a DVD disc telling him she was going to bed now and that he should watch the video to see how good her evening had been. He began to watch not believing what he was seeing. He felt totally humiliated, Jealous & frustrated. He had never seen his wife dressed this way and it stirred something within him. He watched the two rubber clad figures fucking in front of him. They were stood side on to the camera and he watched as he held his wife`s waist plunging into her pussy from behind. He could not help but notice just how large his cock was compared to his and that his wife was so obviously enjoying it as she arched her back and moaned taking in every inch of this Black shiny cock. He fought his emotions but he could not stop himself from becoming more and more turned on as he watched, his own cock growing hard. She looked so shiny and Black teetering on her lovely leather boots. Two Black rubber shapes pounding into each other trying to milk one another for everything they had.

  She seemed to be looking straight at her husband a smile on her lips. He knew what it meant. Her husband had his own cock out and was furiously wanking as he watched his wife nearing her orgasm being satisfied in a way he had not managed and by a cock so much bigger than his. He was so humiliated yet so turned on His wife began to moan loudly as she began to orgasm he could not stop himself and a jet of cum shot into the air as he shot his load. Little did he know but she was watching him from behind and strode in dressed in the same outfit. He tried to cover himself and looked ashamed and embarrassed. Straightaway hands on her hips she asked him if he had enjoyed watching his wife being fucked, he looked at the floor and nodded. She asked if he had noticed how big his cock was, he told her he had. She replied quickly by telling him that it was much bigger than his and asked if he agreed. He mumbled that it was and she made him repeat it properly loving every minute. She went on to tell him that they would continue their normal loving marriage but that when wifey needed satisfying fully she would call on her boy to help. He knew from her tone that she meant it.

  The End.

  Pleasure Tax

  "I see that you are about to engage in sexual intercourse."

  It had been a wonderful evening up to that moment. Liz and I had gone to the same dimly lit restaurant in which I'd proposed to her fifteen years earlier. Over appetizers she stroked my hand and gave me dewy, come-hither looks. During the main course and two bottles of wine, she rubbed her leg against mine, as though we could make cricket music. Dessert had her toe at my groin.

  Once home, we disrobed on the way to the bedroom, grappling with each other and leaving a trail of clothing and inhibition behind. Liz dropped onto the bed and spread her long legs for me.

  "I want you," she whispered huskily.

  I leapt onto her and was poised to make her toes curl when that voice came.

  Liz cried in alarm. I might have made a fearful, unmanly noise too.

  Home invasion was the first thing that came to my mind. Horrible timing was
the second. I turned to look for the owner of the voice, ready to defend my beloved and atone for the surprised squeak that I'd uttered a moment before.

  A man sat in a chair in a darkened corner of the bedroom. I hadn't noticed him on entering, but in fairness I'd been more interested in following Liz's bare rump to take much stock of my surroundings. Despite the fact that the chair was the repository for dirty clothes -- Liz was forever reminding me that we had a hamper for that sort of thing -- the man had folded each article of clothing and stacked neat piles of it around him.

  "Who the fuck are you, and what are you doing in my bedroom?"

  "Our bedroom," my wife corrected me. She was sensitive about these things. Nonetheless, I was surprised by her reaction. I would have expected unmitigated hysteria from Liz at the presence of an unexpected stranger in our bedroom, but remarkably, it was not the case.

  "Our bedroom," I corrected.

  The man crossed his legs and ran his index finger and thumb along the crease of his trousers. If he was concerned at being discovered, he didn't show it. He was nattily if conservatively dressed in a suit and tie. He cocked his head, peered at me through thick lenses, and flashed a grin that seemed to contain too many teeth. Too many teeth notwithstanding, the man appeared completely non-threatening. He was, in fact, the very essence of meekness.

  I rose from the bed and balled my hands into fists. I hoped that I looked menacing despite my pale, middle-aged nudity.

  "Dwight Dunker, auditor." He flipped out his wallet and waved an identification card around. "I'm with the Revenue Agency."

  His words stopped me dead in my tracks. He'd spoken words that strike more fear in a man than any others, with the possible exceptions of syphilis or alimony. Revenue Agency.

  I let my hand fall to my side. Then I sat on the bed and I let it fall to the bedspread, upon which it scrabbled for a moment before pulling an edge over to hide my erection.

  Liz, having drunk a volume of wine over dinner, was nowhere near as modest or discomfited as I by the inexplicable presence of a stranger in our bedroom. Perhaps the wine had lent her courage and brazenness. Perhaps she had faith in my ability to ward off whatever threat this little man posed. Perhaps she liked being ogled by a new pair of eyes. Whatever the reason, she perched herself on an elbow, her full breasts attractively obeying the laws of gravity as she reclined on the bed like an odalisque. While she gazed suspiciously at the auditor, her hand insinuated itself under the cover that hid my boner. The cover began a fluttering movement, as though a small animal were attempting to escape.

  "What are you doing here?" I asked.

  "It's a pre-emptive audit." He must have interpreted my wide-eyed look as confusion, though it was really the result of Liz's fingernails running a tingling path up the underside of my penis. He continued, "You didn't receive the letter?"

  "No," I said.

  "We sent a letter," said the auditor. "Two, in fact."

  "There may have been a letter. Or two," Liz admitted.

  "What's this about?"

  The auditor adjusted his glasses and leaned back in his chair. "Had you read the letter -- and I must tell you that you really should pay more attention to government communications -- you would know that the government has launched a new taxation initiative. Having exhausted all other revenue-generating avenues, we've been forced to introduce what the media has erroneously called a pleasure tax. You may have heard of it. Whatever you choose to call it, I'm here to establish a baseline for you -- the both of you, that is -- so that the tax is fair and equitable. You should carry on as though I'm not here and perform as you normally would. As I said, I want to establish a baseline upon which we will levy a modest tax that's based on both the frequency and quality of your coupling. If you refrain from certain customary activities in the hopes of decreasing your tax burden -- though I strongly advise against it -- we would be forced to levy a penalty should it be discovered that you do, indeed, perform such activities."

  "But you can't just break into people's homes!"

  "Had you read the letter, you would have known that it contained a return communication that would have indicated to us that you wished to exempt yourself from pre-emptive audit. As of last week, we received no such instructions from you. As a result, your non-response indicated your accession to our request to evaluate the relative value of the services you provide to each other."

  "That's ridiculous!"

  "I get that a lot, but you should understand that the services you render to each other do have an inherent value. Do you deny it?"

  It was a loaded question and I chose to invoke my right to remain silent.

  "Consider, for example, the sex trade worker who is deprived of custom by your actions. Admittedly, sex trade workers don't pay into the system in terms of source deductions or sales tax, but that is precisely the problem. The government is obliged to provide a modest standard of living for all of its citizens, regardless of whether they have contributed monetarily. As well, numerous peer-reviewed studies have shown that those who engage in regular intercourse live longer than those who do not. Consequently, society incurs a huge expense to support those who, as a result of their healthy intimate relations, are at risk of outliving their savings and thereby become a burden on society."

  Liz tugged at me. "Come on," she implored me.

  Her hand felt good on the part of me that she was tugging and I momentarily closed my eyes.

  "If you should procreate," the auditor added, "you could claim a deduction, of course. You know, for creating another little taxpayer."

  I opened my eyes again and glared at the auditor. "I don't want to have children," I said.

  "I do," said Liz.

  I didn't want to start that argument again. "We haven't decided."

  "There's time, but not too much." The auditor winked at me.

  "I'm not that old," said Liz.

  A thought came to me; a potential loophole, as it were. "We could stop having sex entirely. How about that?" I said testily.

  Liz's hand squeezed me painfully. I wanted to reassure her that it had been an empty threat only.

  The auditor shook his head sadly. "I wouldn't advise it. That would qualify as tax evasion, I'm afraid. The penalties for deliberately denying oneself intimate relations to avoid taxation are stiff. Speaking of which, you're not."

  I looked down and saw that the cover had slipped and noticed also that what he said was true. I was old enough to know that the adolescent-grade erection that I'd been sporting a few minutes ago was something rare and wonderful and to be cherished. The auditor's presence had produced an alarming wilt, despite Liz's attentions.

  "Oh crap."

  Liz crawled around me to investigate and uttered a cry of alarm. Soon her lips wrapped themselves around me in an attempt at resurrection.

  "I do understand that an audit is unnerving, but please relax. It'll go a lot more easily for all of us if you're open and honest. I'm sure that you don't want to give me a reason to come back. So please, pretend that I'm not here."

  "You could leave the room," I suggested weakly as Liz descended on me.

  The auditor laughed. "And take your word for it? No offense, but really, I can't."

  Liz lifted her head. "Oh, for Christ sake, stop talking already!"

  The auditor removed a notebook from his briefcase and made a show of finding a blank page. He checked his watch and made note of the time. Annoyingly, he clicked his pen a few times. Liz, I have to say, was masterful and I was soon primed again. A quiet Hallelujah chorus bubbled up in my brain.

  Liz's head bobbed up and down on my saliva-slick length and the auditor nodded encouragingly. I fell back on the bed, my hand quickly finding the slick folds between Liz's legs and then moving up to coax her clitoris from its protective nest. Soon the auditor was forgotten, my attention divided between Liz's oral ministrations and my own efforts.

  Liz moaned with abandon as I strummed her. Wine did that to her. She took me in more deeply, h
er own arousal overriding the reflex that ordinarily inhibited the complete insertion of my manhood into her throat. Her lips closed around my base and her tongue undulated against me. We remained thus engaged for several minutes, each of us giving and receiving pleasure in equal measure. Through the blissful haze produced by the warmth of her mouth on my cock, I noted the tell-tale signs of her own imminent climax and redoubled my efforts, concentrating on the glistening pearl of her clitoris. At length, her legs snapped together on my hand. Muffled squeaks accompanied the rhythmic pulsing of her hips as she came.

  "Oh yeah!" she exclaimed.

  Oh no, I thought.

  "Did she?" asked the auditor with interest, confirming my fear.

  "She doesn't fake it." I said sadly.

  "Uh-huh," Liz affirmed dreamily before another wave robbed her of intelligible speech.

  The auditor gave me an attaboy look and scribbled something in his notebook.

  Liz was one of those women for whom orgasm was an old and reliable friend, one that visited regularly and stayed a while. I found myself wishing that Liz were less effusively vocal in welcoming this friend and more restrained and calculating in greeting. Given the company we had, it might have been better had she stopped this particular friend on the threshold. After all, the auditor had mentioned the quality of our canoodling and I grew concerned that Liz's yelps might propel us into a wholly unwelcome tax bracket.

  Liz crawled to the centre of the bed and positioned herself on her hands and knees. She arched her back, angling her pelvis to better display herself to me. The glistening folds of her pussy beckoned. Her hand insinuated itself between her legs and her fingers spread apart her lips, revealing the moist warmth that was mine to have.