by Sophie Sin
“Open your legs,” she growls. “There will be no cheating.”
We do as told. I groan in agony. It is too heavy.
“First, to celebrate our ending, I will arouse you.”
Our pained moans come as one. The woman chuckles, sits and spreads her legs, closing and opening them delicately with her fingers on her knees.
“Do you still find my body sexy?” she purrs.
“YES, MA'AM,” comes the immediate reply. It's no lie.
The woman opens her legs wide and reaches slowly down her stomach to the leather underwear she is wearing to grasp the sides just under the waistband.
“Really?”
She jerks the leather upwards and the lips of her pussy are displayed in full sight of the three of us. Joe cries out in agony and my legs quiver. I want her so bad. She's been teasing us and making us wear these things for days. Yesterday, I got a 33 minute video of her fucking herself with a large black dildo. It came with the message Watch this now in full or face the punishment. I was in a class at university where I'm studying to be an engineer. That was the hardest 33 minutes of my life.
Slowly, ever so slowly, she brings her fingers down between her legs and whirls them around on her rock hard clit. I can just see it through the fabric of her panties. It makes me lick my lips and tense my jaw. Joe cries out again as his dick jerks firmly.
“Yes, yes, you boys find me sexy, don't you? An old woman like me turns you on?”
“Yes, Ma'am, you do,” we reply.
Her little pink tongue slips from her full lips and coats her raised finger tips before sliding back into her mouth.
Those fingers are pressed to her pussy under the material of her panties. She rubs her wet saliva all over the hairless area before reaching behind her back with one hand and taking the rear of her leather g-string in hand while the other pulls on the front.
“Watch closely, boys. I want you to see this very clearly.”
Sawing back and forward with the material, Mrs. Thompson runs the slick fabric over her wet pussy lips. I nearly step forward – something that would obtain punishment like you wouldn't believe – but manage to control myself. My legs quiver with the agony of my erection as it rises higher and higher under the resistance forced upon it.
“Good boys. You are really growing nice and long now.”
Letting go of her panties, she leans forward, flashing us her nipples as she does, and taps the large weights connected to the tips of our penises.
“Ahhh!” I whine.
The others cry out too. We stand there as she knocks the weights over and over, each time causing us pain and pleasure with every touch.
“Filthy young men,” she murmurs, “And none more filthy than you, number 2.”
Brad's back stiffens and a long silence follows. Mrs. Thompson stands and clacks over to him. Her hips work left to right in great swings. I swear she's going to hit him, but instead she takes his jaw in her fingers and stares up into his eyes.
“Are you a bad boy, number 2?”
“I'm sorry,” Brad mutters. “They made me do it.”
“They made you?” she whispers. “A few friends made you break what you swore you wouldn't?”
“I didn't fuck her. I took her straight home. She wanted to do it but I said no.”
“Yet, Bradley, you are a single man?” our mistress purrs. “You can fuck a girl, can't you? Did you ever consider how your rejection might hurt her? How it affected her self-esteem?”
Her eyes travel over us. My head tells me one thing and I agree wholeheartedly with it: We are totally fucked.
Those eyes stop on mine and hold them. I am quick to look away lest she think I'm trying to be assertive with her, which is something that she hates.
“That poor, poor girl, she got up the courage to make a move on you and you turned her down, didn't you, Bradley?”
The young man gulps, opens his mouth, can't produce words, and finally settles on a single nod.
“Number 2, get down on your knees, place your hands forward and your head on the floor.”
Brad slowly lowers himself to the wooden floor.
“I see at least some things are correct.”
She reaches down and yanks out the small plug in Brad's butt. Liquids pour out, but she doesn't make any of us lick them up this time.
“Nice and clean. That's how I like it.”
The woman squats down in her thigh high boots and leather vest and panties and sits her wide buttocks down on Brad's back. The man quivers as she runs her fingers up and down his scrotum and up to his asshole.
“Because you didn't fuck her – and you don't understand properly how you hurt her feelings – I'm going to take three fingers and I'm going to fuck you with them.”
I breathe for the first time in awhile. Mrs. Thompson is only going to use her fingers and only three this time. It could have gone far worse for Brad than this.
Her fingers slowly caress his buttocks. Around and around with the fingernails digging in. I stand there enraptured as I always do as my friend takes his punishment. It wasn't always like this for me. I was once quite shy about watching another man have sex with a woman in front of me. Now it's so normal that I can barely think of any other way. I don't even get anxious that it will be my turn soon.
Two fingers dig in first. I gulp and try not to 'feel' what is going on in there. Beside me Joe is in the same predicament.
In, out, in, out.
I shuffle left then right. My ass is clenching. Inside I feel her fingers touching my warm spot. I want to cum, but I know she won't take me there. It would be an accident if I did cum and there are very rarely accidents in Mrs. Thompson's dining room.
Her other hand comes lower. The woman comes down on Brad's side and reaches between his legs to squeeze his balls. I can hear him whimpering and moaning. It must feel so good to be treated like that... I wish I was on the floor and being punished.
Coming down further, the woman puts her tongue to the upper side of our friend's asshole and starts licking around the upper half. Two fingers have become three and those balls are being palmed back and forth in long strokes that must feel exquisite. Our mistress has herself positioned so that we can't miss a thing. It is thrilling to watch.
“Ahhhhhhh!!!”
Brad cums all over the floor and falls forward on his face. I am surprised, as is Joe. She never lets us cum until the very end. Today, being the last, must be special.
“Come here, number 1 and 3.”
We follow her to the big wooden table and wait at attention.
“Take off the weights.”
As soon as the words are out of her mouth, I am fumbling with mine. When it comes free, my knees give way and I have to drag myself up from the floor to stand again.
“Stand up straight!”
The ruler she is holding whacks down on my behind. I leap up in the air a little then come down on my toes.
“Straight, I said. Are you listening?”
“Yes, Ma'am.”
My mistress places the ruler to my dick and nods her head in pleasure.
“A good inch since two weeks ago. That puts you at 9 inches. That's quite a dick you have now.”
Her eyes turn to Joe.
“Straight,” she warns.
The young, tall man pulls himself up as straight as he can and waits.
“8 and a half. A little more time and you'll be big like number 3.” She strokes it and his eyes roll back in his head. “I'm sure you can make 10. You have the potential.”
Turning on a heel, she points to the table.
“Number 3. Bottom.”
I quickly lie down on the table and sit still with my dick as hard as ever and fire pumping through my veins. Finally I'm going to get to fuck the woman. She's been holding out and now the moment of my pleasure is here.
“Number 2. On your feet!”
Brad stumbles up and tries his best to get over to the table. His dick is still hard.
“We will measure you later,” she promises.
He nods and our mistress gives us our instructions. When she is finished, I am not the only one to protest.
“But it will tear you!” I say. “No woman could do that.”
“Do you dare deny me?”
“No, Ma'am.”
“Good. Then lie there and shut up.”
She gets on top of me and sits on my cock. I reach around and place it to the cusp of her asshole before sliding it in. This area is loose as one can get, but still feels quite nice clenching my dick.
Next, Brad brings his cock to her butt hole, leaning in from the left, and slowly inserts his cock.
Finally, to make this truly kinky beyond belief, Joe steps up to the plate and pushes his cock in from the right. All those stretching exercises for our dicks are starting to make sense now.
We lie there unbelieving in the fact that our three dicks are in the one hole. If any of us were under 7 inches or less this wouldn't happen. Joe barely has his in half mast and Brad is not all the way in. It is I that leads the way.
“Hahhhhh!” she whines.
I bounce in and out and keep the time. The others push in and out and get a good timing of their own going. Three men in one little woman's hole. Her screaming. Us pounding. Three men doing what few will ever do.
“Shit,” I whisper. “I can't believe this.”
None of us can. Joe is the first to loose his load. It's sticky and wet on my dick. He slops out when his dick loses firmness and is rewarded by the mistress with a loud cleaning that makes me feel like I've grown an inch inside of her by its end.
“Take my pussy, number 2.”
Brad pulls out of the hole and suddenly I feel lonely. It was tighter before, but now it's very loose.
As if understanding my problem, Mrs. Thompson pulls me out and draws me to the side to jerk on as Brad does his work. I'm soon joined by Joe, who manages to come back in quickly, and we both get up on the table to worship her lips with both of our dicks finding the rough ends of her wisdom teeth with how vigorously and deeply we insert.
All throughout, she holds our shafts in either hand and jerks on them. Her grip is tight and her aim clear. I cum down her throat in a great welling load that wells up and pours from her lips. Joe takes her head and slams his cock inward to make sure every little bit is swallowed.
“Hooo!”
Brad's eyes are wide. He cums hard and I take his place with my semi-hard piece to enjoy the slickness of her pussy.
“Harder, number 3. Harder!”
As the mistress wishes! I cry in my mind. The table begins to shake with how hard I'm pushing things. One of the chairs falls to the floor and the floor starts to grind as the heavy wood gives to my attentions.
Finally, I cum again and fill her up.
Joe takes my place and does his bit.
When it's all said and done, we stand slumped at attention with our eyes on the clock. I want more – so much so that I'm near the point where I would take it without her command – but there is no time. Only 1 minute left.
“Boys,” she murmurs from her back on the table where cum is running down her cheeks and out of her pussy. “Do you want more?”
“Yes, Ma'am,” we say earnestly.
Her hands grasp at some papers I didn't notice before. There are also three cheap ballpoint pens.
“You know what these are?”
I gulp and nod.
“All you have to do is sign them. I've even added that you should obtain girlfriends to provide cover for our little fun into the contract renewal.”
“Girlfriends?” I ask.
“You must make sacrifices sometimes. It would be bad for people to talk about you three visiting so often without some women in your lives.”
I sigh. All I want is her. Sometimes I wish she'd recognize that.
The pen is in my hand before I even have time to think. Just like the first time I sign quickly and throw down the pen. Joe and Brad are right beside me.
“What would you have us do now, Ma'am?”
She chuckles in that evil way she does when the woman has something truly horrific in mind.
“Lick me clean.”
And that is why older women are the best. They love to fuck and, ohhhh, the creativity of that fucking. They are truly God's gift to all men everywhere.
Horny Rainy Days
(M/F: Erotica Humor, Big Breasts, Naughty Customer, Oral)
When it rains, I feel horny. It's not regular horny, but CRAZY horny. Today I told a little naughty lie. I have a stud muffin coming straight to my door. He doesn't know it, but I'm quite keen to suck the caramel out of this gorgeous muffin. Swallowed and enjoyed.
Dedicated to everytone that think rainy days are sexy days too.
I've always been crazy horny on rainy days. Today more than usual.
The gentle spreading warmth of the caramel muffins I just purchased at a discount sit comfortably under my left arm as, outside, rain streaks down from the sky like transparent missiles sent from space, battering the weary pavement and the even wearier evening commuters foolish enough to transverse its slippery, glossy surface in the middle of the biggest storms this rainy season.
“Your coffee.”
I flutter my eye lashes at him. I swear that I didn't mean to.
“Thanks. You getting off soon, Jack?”
He smirks. “About an hour from now.”
“That must be nice. I'm mid-book.”
“Still at it?”
“Writing. Writing. You know me.” I suck in a tiny breath and pray that this isn't going to get me banned from my favorite muffin store forever. “If you like, um, would you, ah, mind bringing over a few caramel muffins on your way home? It's too wet outside to be prancing about in this weather.”
His crisp blue eyes meet mine firmly. Maybe 2 years ago, I don't remember so well, on a VERY drunken evening out with the girls, on a night when it was raining cats and dogs, much like today, I snogged the coffee boy when he was really nothing more than a boy.
He's grown up well though. The MAN that stands before me is thick, full and just as boyishly handsome as the day I first saw him across a crowded club. Question is: Does he remember that I snogged him or not? How much of my subtle attempt to get him to come over for... well, we'll see how that goes... but you know, here's hoping... is understood.
“Hmmm...” He scratches his left ear and raises his blond tinted eyebrows in thought. “I got dinner with the olds at 7pm. Just in and out, if it's alright.”
“Sure,” I purr, forgetting that this reaction is totally not appropriate to what he means by In and Out. “That would be absolutely lovely.”
I throw a wave over my shoulder, shuffle out through the cafe's door into the downpour and pop my umbrella with a loud plonk into the torrent scouring down from above. The rain batters off the pink plastic immediately as I step out on black high heels way too tall for the situation. On my face is a smile. It's part lust and part joy. Good times are coming.
*****
It's now 5pm. My foot thumps the floor even more violently. My arms are crossed across my plump chest. I'm impatient AND I'm wet. Not from the rain. I mean W-E-T and lonely. Damn, the muffin man is taking forever.
There's a polite knock on the big wooden door of my apartment. Swift as a cheetah I'm at it. Taking one little look through the little gold peephole set upper mid-door, I note sex has arrived. I try not to be optimistic about it, but the weather has gotten worse. I'm uncontrollable.
Flinging the door open, I raise my arms and grin widely.
“You came!”
Strangely enough it comes out as “You'll cum” but I don't think he catches the subtlety in pronunciation.
Jack shakes his head vigorously to clear the water form his blond hair. Droplets of water shimmy off into nowhere. Poor guy must have ran all the way here in this torrent.
“Come in. You look cold.”
“I can't. I've gotta be across the city.”
I grab his black work shirt front tightly in my fist. “I insist.”
Yanking him through the doorway and inside, I flip the door closed with a clonk using the back of my pink slipper and pop an extra button on the super tight pink top that I'm wearing.
“Thank you so much for coming all this way,” I say. “I always appreciate the service.”
He's staring around at my place. I know, I know, I shouldn't be eyeing up at his butt as he admires the art, which is admittedly quite nice, but whatever. It's rounded and firm looking. My fingers stray out perversely, but he turns too soon for me to have any fun.
“Your apartment is awesome,” he praises.
“Thanks.” I gesture towards the gas heater whirring away in the far corner. “At least get dry before you go.”
His lightly muscled arm firmly in my grasp, I escort him over. My pussy is now so uncomfortably wet that my panties, which are lacy black and not meant for this volume of liquids, are soaked through. I assist him out of his jacket, taking advantage of the situation to feel him up.
He glances down suggestively at my hand resting on his chest when we are done, but I'm too busy enjoying the firmness of his rock hard physique. Touching is WAY better than just looking.
“Sarah, are you okay? You look a little flushed.”
Jack's eyes aren't on my face. He's wide eyed and staring at the view on show down the front of my top. Honestly, I don't blame him. I am the proud bearer of a double D rack and many-a-man has admitted to falling in love with it on sight.
I wiggle them about and adjust my bra. The lucky boy gets a glance at one of my now painfully erect nipples in full bloom. It sends a clear message.
“I've always felt you were such a good service person,” I muse offhandedly, patting his firm shoulder lightly, never losing contract with the dampness heat of his black shirt completely. “How can I ever reward you for your service.”
Yes, I know it's lame. Sue me. I'm trying to get laid here.
Mr. Stud Muffin glances to my breasts. He says nothing, but my hand is now snaking down over his slim chest, over those firm abdominals to the peaked front of his blue jeans.
