He was kissing me now, and the feel of his hand between my thighs made me moan with longing. Then I finally sensed him pulling his cock out of his pants. He rolled me over onto my back, and made me lift my legs up into the air and hold them wide open for him. I felt totally exposed as he slowly fed my hungry pussy his huge red cock. I had never seen it get so big before, and I cried out as he drove it into me.
‘Are you a bad girl?’ he asked harshly, fucking me hard and fast.
‘I want to be good!’ I gasped. He was filling me up, violently stuffing me with his erection like he never had before, and I wanted to die it felt so good.
‘Will you take your punishment like a good girl?’ he demanded, making my breasts bob wildly up and down as he rammed his hard-on as deep into my body as he could.
‘I will honey, I will! I’ll be just as bad as you want me to be! I’ll be your good... oh, I’ll be your punishment whore!’ I screamed.
He leaned over and bit my neck as I came and came and came. Sometimes being bad is the best thing that can happen to a girl.
Going Down to the Movies
Not much was happening on the home front for a while until I came home one night last year, and found a note from Mark on the kitchen table. Mark is a movie buff. When we first met we went out to the movies constantly, especially to sexy Italian flicks from the sixties. But lately, what with one thing or another - you know how it is once you start living together - even racy European movies had stopped getting us excited. Then one night I came home and found a note on the kitchen table in Mark’s handwriting: We’re going to the movies. Go to the bedroom.
Intrigued, I took off my coat. Beneath it I was wearing a cotton blouse and a wool skirt. I went into the bedroom hoping to find him. Instead, on the closet door near the bed, was another note: Take out your raincoat.
I took my raincoat out of the closet. It was tan vinyl with a red lining and I’d had it for years. Pinned to the neck of the coat was another note: Put it on, with nothing between you and the buttons.
My pussy started getting wet right then and there; it had been tingling since I walked through the bedroom door. Mystery games had thrilled me since I was a kid, and Mark knew it. I stripped off my blouse, and got butterflies in my stomach looking around our little apartment wondering if Mark was hiding somewhere, watching me. We had been living together for six months, yet I suddenly felt shy. I let my skirt drop to the floor, undid the clasp on my bra, slipped it off, and folded it neatly on a pillow. Then I slid my panties down to my ankles, stepped out of them and picked up the raincoat. The red lining skidded against my already tight and excited nipples as I slipped it on, and the plastic chafed my bare thighs. The vinyl was cold and felt very strange against my naked breasts and buttocks.
Inside the left hip pocket, I found another note: Go to the multi-screen theatre. Don’t drive.
Not far from our apartment there is a precinct with a big movie house in it, the kind with five screens and wide, comfortable seats. The thought of walking through the streets with no clothes on beneath the raincoat made my pussy tingle, but my belly felt tight with fear. Thinking fast, I decided that if Mark took the trouble to liven things up around here, the least I could do was swallow my inhibitions and play along.
I walked out into the hallway of our apartment building, and immediately felt a draft slip up into the coat and caress my thighs. I looked both ways to make sure no one was around, but it wasn’t until I was out on the street that I really began feeling self-conscious. Every one I passed seemed to be looking at me in my raincoat and high-heels. My legs felt strangely weak, and I was increasingly worried about tripping and wantonly exposing my bare cheeks to the world as I fell. I kept my eyes lowered and stepped demurely away from all the men I passed. The two blocks between our apartment and the theatre had never seemed longer.
Inside the theatre I held the collar of the raincoat tightly closed, but at the ticket desk I suffered my next thrill of embarrassment. A young man handed me a stub through the window before I even opened my mouth, and when I looked at him in surprise, he said, ‘You were expected,’ and smiled at me in a way that made me feel he could see right through my coat. I blushed to realise that in my excitement I had forgotten to bring any money, and that until that moment I had not even thought about the actual movie.
I hurried down the appropriate corridor; I did not know if the film had started yet. I was glad to see the lobby was empty, but also a little disappointed; subconsciously, I had been looking forward to walking through a crowd of people completely naked beneath my coat.
I opened the door to the auditorium, stepped inside, and paused to let my eyes adjust to the darkness. Already I could tell the theatre was full, and gradually, with a sinking feeling in my belly, I realised the audience consisted mainly of men. All I remember about the movie when I came in is a woman’s legs filling the screen and that it had been shot somewhere very bright. Then I noticed a section of five empty seats about halfway down the aisle, and somehow I knew Mark had managed to reserve them. But I would have to make my way over the legs of approximately ten seated men to get to them, and their knees pulling on my coat would threaten to expose me every step of the way.
I took a deep breath, and almost turned to walk out. Then a head looked back at me from directly behind the row of empty seats, and my heart leapt. It had to be Mark.
I made my way towards him while very firmly telling myself no one could possibly know I was naked beneath my coat. And yet... I swear one man touched my bottom through my coat when I said ‘Excuse me’ as I squeezed past him on my way to the empty seats, and once my coat parted so the light from the screen fell right on my bare pussy, but I’m pretty sure no one saw that.
I reached the empty seats, but I couldn’t see Mark anywhere. Some guy told me to hurry up and sit down and I promptly obeyed, perspiring slightly with anxiety. I could not believe I was sitting nearly naked in a movie theatre full of men who were all probably sexually aroused by the action on the screen.
‘Don’t turn around,’ a voice said softly from just behind me.
‘Mark?’ I whispered uncertainly, because I couldn’t really be sure it was him.
‘Shut it!’ the voice hissed, ‘or I’ll tell everybody what a slut you are.’
A submissive thrill stabbed me straight between the legs. I could not be sure this man was Mark, and having a faceless voice talking to me like this as I sat naked beneath my thin coat in a dark room full of men was making my pussy melt.
‘Spread your legs,’ he commanded.
I took a deep breath, and parted my thighs.
‘Now touch yourself.’
‘What?’ I whispered.
‘You heard me.’
I had always felt awkward talking about masturbation with a man, not to mention doing it in front of him, let alone in front of several dozen men in a public place. I hesitated.
‘Do it,’ the voice insisted. ‘Stick your finger in your pussy.’
I didn’t turn around because I didn’t want to; these firm commands from an anonymous source were seriously arousing me. With my trembling left hand I slowly lifted the left side of my coat off my thigh. Then, with my equally unsteady right hand, I parted the other side of my coat. Air wafted across my bare legs and felt wonderfully cool against my warm skin, but it felt especially good against my pussy, which was already so wet its juices were dampening the coat’s red lining. I reached down and slipped a finger past the puffy lips of my labia. My clit was standing almost painfully at attention, all I had to do was circle it with my long fingernail to experience a stab of pleasure that made me suck my breath in.
‘Get hot, baby.’
No one else seemed to hear the quietly demanding voice, and none of the men sitting in the row on either side of me seemed to notice me. Feeling a little bolder, I flicked my clit with my nail, and gasped.
‘Hotter!’
the voice said impatiently.
I played my index finger over my knob, pressing down on it firmly, and then ran it between the hot, swollen lips of my pussy. My breathing became fast and shallow, and yet still the voice said, ‘More’ and then ‘More’ again, until I was almost coming. I was nearly over the edge when a hand squeezed my shoulder. ‘Now stop.’
‘Mark?’ I asked weakly.
‘Close your eyes.’
I obeyed. I still had not turned around to see who the voice belonged to I was so into this little game of domination and submission. I sat tense with anticipation as I felt him climbing over the chair next to mine, and settling himself into it.
‘Hold still,’ he said.
I was so hot waiting for him to dictate the next step in our game that the soft sound of his slacks brushing the seat as he shifted his position seemed louder than the movie to me.
‘Allow me.’ He slipped three fingers up inside me so swiftly that I nearly cried out it felt so good. I sat up straight and grasped the armrests to brace myself. ‘You like that, baby?’
I nodded, unable to speak as he began massaging my clitoris with the base of his palm, going around and around it while his other hand reached up to touch my neck and caress my face. His fingers moving steadily in and out of me made me buck in my seat as I rode the beginnings of what promised to be an intense orgasm. All I had to do to sharpen the edge of my pleasure was think about the fact that I was surrounded by men and completely naked beneath my coat while a man whose face I couldn’t see put his hand up my throbbing pussy.
When he suddenly pressed his thumb against my lips and slipped it between them, I started coming in earnest. I took his thumb deep into my mouth, letting him dominate my throat, and climaxed like I never had before in my life. His hand gagging me stopped me from crying out, but I rocked back and slid forward in the seat and thrust my hips up around his fingers, grinding my clit against his hard palm.
After my orgasm finally stopped, he emptied my mouth, pulled on the belt around my waist so my coat fell open all the way, and yanked it off my shoulders. Cool air flowed over my perspiring skin while I kept my eyes closed, a wanton smile spreading across my face.
Still filling my pussy with one hand, he placed the other one on the back of my neck and began pushing me down. The coat stayed behind in the chair as my arms slipped out of it, and I felt his hand travel down my slick back as I crouched on my knees in a crowded hall and took the biggest cock I can ever remember so deep into my mouth that its head nudged the back of my throat.
I swallowed him whole, and then pulled back and sucked on his head for a moment before pushing my face down over him again. I felt him leaning forward, but I could not believe it when his hand smacked my bottom.
I froze.
Surely everyone had heard that! He spanked me again, and the low, flat sound was muffled by the soundtrack, but the sensation was not; it stung like buggery! I was getting spanked, naked, in front of countless unknown men! He kept punishing me slowly, one cheek at a time as I sucked hungrily on his dick.
Finally he stopped to grip my hot bottom, and I felt as though he was branding the marks of his fingers into my cheeks he squeezed them so viciously. I felt more than naked; I felt profoundly exposed in a way I never would have dreamed of letting myself be. Mark had never even mentioned spanking to me, and the hard, methodical blows made the aching need in my pussy deeper still.
Then I felt his erection jump and tighten in my mouth, and his cum started flooding down my throat. I swallowed mouthful after mouthful of his bittersweet milk, and yet there was so much of it that some seeped out from between my stretched lips to wet my cheeks and chin and throat. I felt deliciously drenched in his spunk by the time his cock slipped out of my mouth.
‘You’re such a quiet date to take to the late show,’ he whispered.
I reached blindly for his hand, and kissed it.
We still go to the movies together, but now I wear a brand new leather coat he bought me as a wedding present.
Mandy
Amanda Vanforth rose out of her jasmine scented bathwater, trailing suds in her bare feet on the plush rug, and gazed at herself in the mirror. She was amply graced with firm, thirty-eight-D breasts whose nipples stiffened at the slightest naughty thought, a tight but still generous bottom, and a glorious fiery spray of red pubic hair to match the wet curls flowing down her back. Smiling, she dried herself off, sprayed perfume on her throat and breasts, and then chose a small, revealing striped top along with a pair of slacks that showed off her voluptuous hips. She was going to see Albert, her husband’s brother, and Albert liked to admire her shapely buttocks.
She had always been able to manipulate Albert’s interest in her to her own ends. This week, with Sidney out of town on business, she planned on coaxing Albert into buying more stock for her private portfolio with the company money, and the fact that he had asked to see her in his office gave her the perfect opportunity to do so. She did not plan on being married to Sidney forever, and when the time came, she intended to bail on him with a nice golden parachute.
Amanda walked into the last suite on the top floor and sauntered past the secretaries straight into Albert’s office. The grey-headed old harpy who sat by his door rose when she appeared, but then sat down again as Amanda ignored her and pushed open the mahogany door leading into the light-filled space of her brother-in-law’s office.
Only then did she stop short, because he was not sitting at his desk as he normally was, or even standing by one of the many windows.
‘Albert?’ she called. No one answered, but she felt the door close silently behind her, and turned quickly on her heels.
Albert was standing in the corner smoking a cigarette and watching her. This was not like him; he was usually hard at work behind his desk, and would spring up like a puppy to greet her when she entered. ‘Hello Amanda,’ he said, ‘I’ve been expecting you.’
‘Really? You’ve a funny way of showing it.’
He smiled. ‘I have some things to show you.’
‘Really?’ she repeated, making an effort to sound interested. He often tried to impress her with his projects, which bored her to distraction.
He took a drag of his cigarette and exhaled as he asked, ‘Do you have something to show me?’
‘I don’t know what you mean,’ she replied, turning away. She was quite put off by his obvious leer since he was usually so submissive with her. Then she froze when she thought she felt his hand caress the cheeks of her bottom in her smooth cotton slacks.
‘Don’t you have this to show me?’ he whispered in her ear.
She spun around to face him again. ‘How dare you? I have never...! If I say one word of this to...’
‘Sidney?’ Albert kept his hand resting almost possessively on her bottom.
She slapped it away.
‘I can also talk to Sidney, Mandy, my darling,’ he threatened quietly, and now his hand rose to her lightly powdered cheek.
She wanted to bite him as his hand dropped to her neck, and kept moving slowly downwards. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about, Albert,’ she said innocently, ‘and I don’t understand what’s gotten into you.’ She moved hastily away from him towards the desk.
‘I’ll be happy to show you.’ He strolled lazily after her.
Amanda desperately scanned the surface of the desk for something to restore order, such as a photograph of her and Sidney together. What she found instead was a scattering of colourful and extremely graphic eight-by-tens. The photographs had captured particularly hot moments in an encounter between a high-school friend of hers, and a woman clearly identifiable as Amanda Vanforth, in all her naked glory. Her pale cheeks turned crimson as she saw several close-ups of her face, and her expression in the pictures made it clear she was in the throes of an orgasm. The man responsible for her pleasure was clearly not her husband. The
man in the obscene images with her was Paul, and his hands were just where Albert’s hand was now. Her brother-in-law was touching her bottom again, this time patting it in a gentle imitation of what Paul had been doing to her. The photographs showed her high school friend spanking her. She suffered a flush of feeling remembering the hard and passionate way Paul had fucked her that night, but then her mind returned to the present as Albert patted her right cheek, and then her left cheek, slowly, with no sense of urgency.
‘Do you still want to talk to Sidney, Mandy?’ he asked quietly.
‘Don’t call me that,’ she snapped, but she didn’t move away from his hand. ‘How did you...?’
‘Your friend is quite a professional,’ he remarked, and pressed his hand against the cloth between her cheeks. She gasped as he fingered the deep valley dividing her buttocks through the tightly stretched cotton, feeling for her anus. She shifted her weight, trying to escape his intrusive caress, yet she didn’t actually move away from him. She was too scared. ‘He... did this?’
‘Did this? Mandy, I tracked him down for this. Of all the guys in your high school yearbook, he was the only one who had a heart drawn around his face.’
‘You stole my yearbook?’ she exclaimed, turning to face him again. It surprised her how close he was, so close she could feel his heat. He was wearing a white shirt and tie, and the growing bulge in his black trousers gave her the panicky feeling that he wasn’t wearing any underwear.
‘I had to get a hold of this, Mandy.’ He smiled again, and slid his hand up from her bottom to cup her left breast. She didn’t move as he fondled her bosom, but she shuddered inside. In all the years she had known him, he had never before smiled at her like that. It was an ugly smile, the smile of a man who believes he owns something, and who is not necessarily gentle with his possessions.
‘What do you want?’ she asked, even though she knew.
School for Nurses Page 3
