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Escort for Fun
The Beginning
Part-1-of-6
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This is not really relevant but it's the only place I can vent anonymously so I figured who cares. I do the mental purging thing and no one get's hurt yada-yada, blah, blah. I'm not really seeking advice, condolences, criticism, or derision. I'm just utilizing this section for what it's intended for I guess. That being explained, I'll get right to the point. My name is Rachael, and I’m a 30-year-old. I’m 5-foot 6-inches tall, and weigh 125 pounds with very smooth, olive skin, auburn hair, green eyes, an ass that could not be more perfect and medium size breasts with nice sensitive nipples. I have a good job and a really good man that adores me, to the point of obsession. Brian was so naïve that I timed our first love making with my period so he thought I was a virgin the first time we were together. Now that we were living together, money wasn’t a problem, I maintain myself exceptionally well, and I’m active in church. Brian and I have no kids so as far as he knows; he’s my number one priority. For him I’m a demon chef that can make anything and I mean anything. He can have Italian one night and Chinese the next.
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When we go out to eat in order not to embarrass James I’m deliberately a class act. I say please and thank you and am sweet and courteous to the staff. Brian’s friends all like me, their wives not so much, which of course is because I charm the pants off their men.
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I don’t use drugs, and I don’t over do the alcohol. I’m a gem; he never has to worry about how I will behave in public because my manners are impeccable.
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If I have a beef with him I let him have it both barrels but in private. We are like Bonnie and Clyde and I love what we have, because it’s just him, no family and me or kid drama. We can go and do whatever we want, when we want because we’re not ‘saddled’ with her insolent kids.
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The sex, there’s no words that can describe. I’m his fantasy, a screamer and a dirty talker and I don’t have to rein in my sexual music because our ‘kids’ are in the other room. Do i even need to talk about how tight my pussy is? The difference between the pussies of women who’ve had no kids and that of a woman, who’ve had even only 1-kid is like comparing a tight soft glove to an old used slipper.
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Even though I’m with in the same age range as most of the moms, I look better; my skin is soft and youthful.
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Brian thinks our conventional 7-minute hump makes him a porn star, and that I'm equally oblivious about what constitutes an amazing lay or any other variation of sex outside of the ‘Jack Rabbit.’ Unfortunately, Brian has a very small, thin cock with a wart on the side. It was maybe 4-inches on a good day, and as much as I love him that just didn't do it for me. I’m just glad that I have a boyfriend who gets hard and horny everyday and yet remains faithful to me. I know it's not my responsibility to assist him when he has morning wood early in the morning on a workday, when I’m still half-asleep, and need to get ready for work. Brian doesn't know how lucky he is that for the love of all that is happy and healthy in a relationship, I try to see the silver lining / positive side rather than internalizing it. Instead of looking for some way to feel bad or victimized by it, I orally take care of it.
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After I take care of his morning wood, he likes to relax in bed with coffee and the Sunday New York Times, while I work on the crossword. Brian is so naïve and easy to please that he likes to see me in white cotton underwear and t-shirt dancing around our bedroom. To his unfortunate detriment Brian remains insanely clueless about who I am or what I'm into when we're not together. He doesn’t realize it but he’s a sexist, he too has a double standard. I want to ask him why only a woman is a nymphomaniac. We girls are supposed to all like sex, but not too much. We see hot men with their shirts off in every commercial and on TV all the time, but we're supposed to marry one guy and only be with him even when he gets fat. That’s just stupid. Most men think we should go back to the '50s and women have one partner for life, no thanks, that sounds too boring. What if you got a bad one, you're stuck. You only live once, whole life with bad sex. The '50s are over man, get used to it. Why would you want to return to a past that was no fun for anyone? Back then no one had oral sex; no one had sex with more than one person and women never dressed sexy. Though Aaron knows I'm far from the angel next door and he's no choir boy, I don't think prayer alone could redeem me from the many depraved acts I've done consensually.
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I honestly believe if Brian knew the real me he'd completely quit women, and rightly so because I'm an asshole. Oddly enough as much as I care for him, and I do immensely, I really don't feel guilty about what I've done. What I continue to do... I'm not treacherous, scandalous, or intentionally devious; I just REALLY like to fuck. And for some unforeseen reason have the ability to differentiate getting off and feelings. I've never associated sex with emotion the way its said women are inclined to do. Not even in the most intense relationships. Whatever chip they administered for that must have burned out at birth. I just never really understood how one has to complete the other. So I haven't and won't bother trying to figure it out. I resign myself to concede to the need.
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It’s hard to believe that it all started one summer at Green Lake when I was 14. One evening when a couple of my girlfriends and I went for a late night swim, we met up with some older High school guys. And like typical teenagers we wound up in a hot make out session. Naturally the guys wanted to fuck us, but we wouldn't let them. The guy that I was with put my hand on his swimming trunks so that I could feel his ‘boner’ as he called it. It felt so good that I played with it for a while through his suit. Then when I got my nerve up, I took it out of his bathing suit. I can remember that it was so very hard. I laid my head on his stomach so I could look at it while I played with it. It was so near my face that it seemed natural to want to kiss it. But when I did, it exploded in my hand and all over my face. Of course some got in my mouth, and I remember that it tasted real salty.
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The other two guys were jealous because I jacked their buddy off but my girlfriends wouldn’t jack them off. So at the urging of everyone including my girlfriends, I agreed to do them too. By the time that I’d jacked off the other 2-guys with everyone watching, I knew that I was hooked on boys and their cocks. The other two guys were so excited that they cummed in seconds.
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Once I learned how too deep throat without gagging and started swallowing, my reputation was made. After that I was known at school as the ‘header queen,’ and was the most popular girl in High School. At any athletic event, after school, or on weekends you could always find me on my knees with my mouth open sucking the jocks cocks. I must have sucked several hundred cocks from about the eighth grade through the twelfth grade.
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I even use to suck off one of my High School math teacher. He was the father of the first guy that I sucked off at the lake and it was his son that set me up with him. We’d get together at least 2 or 3-time a week in his van. I loved to suck him off. His was the first really big uncut cock that I ever sucked. His cock had a big head and I used to play hide-n-seek with it and his foreskin. He was very patient. He was the one that taught me how to breathe through my nose and relax my throat so that his cock could go down my throat. After that, he was so far down my throat when he cummed that I never even tasted it.
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The fact is that since that night I've had a really compromising sex addiction, one I think even for a man would be considered outrageous. So being a female, I can't find the words to categorize my deviant behavior. Imagine that you’re on your period or approaching it. Your hormones are doing the tango to double-time in your bloodstream. You’re randy, horny, need-cock-NOW out of your mind with lust. You’ll stop at nothing until you’re satisfied. Only for me that insatiable desire doesn’t ebb or fade until your next period, instead it’s like I was a man with chronic testosterone poisoning 24/7. What the average female feels at her most lust-driven, sopping-wet, would-kill-to-cum moments of the month I feel every minute of every fucking day. The fact that I can stay focused on any task not sex-related is a freakin' miracle in itself. I’m such a slut that some manner of sex saturates my thoughts regularly 24/7.
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Some nights I can't sleep because thoughts about fucking keep swirling around in my head. It was torture lying there naked, massaging my stiff eraser head size nipples, with my dripping wet pussy, and imaging a big cock sliding inside of me. God, I am sick with lust. That’s truly the best and only way to describe it.
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I want someone, anyone’s lips and tongue licking and sucking my breasts, while their facial hair tickles my skin. I want thick, large fingers inside of me while the man watches my face in ecstasy. I want to watch someone ram their face into my pussy as they work it with their tongue.
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I want to watch someone fucking me in the reflection of a mirror. I want to fuck for hours and hours again. And then finally, I want to watch as someone cums all over my stomach and breasts. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone cum as much as the last guy I fucked. It's like a hose, literally, so heavy thick and warm.
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I was on my back, legs raised up to where my knees were near my ears, ass in the air as he moved forward so that his cock hovered between my parted thighs. I watched in total fascination, as he spread my legs wider. Then he grabbed my hips, and I cried out for joy as he entered me. My high-pitched squeal caused him to look down and smile. My long legs were soon up over his shoulders and I was moaning and gasping in time with his steady powerful thrusting. My fingers dug into the cheeks of his ass, urging him on, as I tried to pull him in deeper each time he plunged into me. He was pumping me methodically, pushing my all the way in. I moaned with pleasure as he slowly pulled it almost all the way out and then almost brutally ramming it back in so hard and deep that our flesh made slapping noises as our bodies connected. The angle was exquisite and he actually hit my g-spot. My eyes rolling back in orgasmic agony, head throw back, probably moaning so loud it might be called screaming... and suddenly he pulled out and began jerking off his eight-inch, hard-as-a-rock cock, and I could tell he was enjoying being watched. Lowering a hand, I dipped a finger into my pussy and began playing with myself. Just to help spur things on, I pulled the finger out, put it in my mouth, sucked my juices off, and then returned it to my pussy. That was as far as I got before he announced, “I'm gonna cum!"
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"Come here, slut," he snarled. Though his calling me a slut stung me for a fraction of a second, I moved towards him. Grabbing a handful of my hair, he moved my head to a couple of inches in front of his cock. The image of his cock head so close to my face, knowing that it is getting ready to explode is hard to describe. It was incredibly sexy; yet fear inducing at the same instant. I knew that at that range it could cause some damage if things weren't handled the right way. Watching a guy jerk he off at that angle was new to me as well and the whole combination of everything going on at that moment put me on the verge of an orgasm myself.
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At that range I knew it was going to sting, so I girded myself for the impact. The first shot hit me just below the right eye, but I couldn't pull back because he was holding my head. The second shot followed pretty quickly after that and got me right on the nose. It began draining off the end of my nose and caused it to itch like hell, but things were moving too quickly for me to react to it.
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The third shot followed right on the mouth, and a fourth shot hit me square in the right eye. The bastard then took his cock and rubbed his cum into my face. I hadn't anticipated that, but it didn't gross me out too badly. He let go of my hair, and I began trying to wipe the cum out of my eyes with my fingers.
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As he laughed and continued to squeeze his cock, he said, "Those were some good shots. I hope you enjoyed that."
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Not sure what to do at that point, I said, "Thanks, dude."
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When will this torture end for me? I imagine never. Even if I could I might not make it stop. This torturous pleasure is unlike anything most people have ever experienced. It's so wrong but so good.
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The porn I watched, my last session, the next hook up, some random driver in the car next to me. I literally visualize various acts of someone defiling me the majority of my day. I say to myself, Men with big cocks, please keep on flashin' for us ladies because I, for one, love to look at pictures of your cocks. Many of them are nice, and I fantasize about what they'd feel like inside me. I love Aaron, but he's got a small pee-pee. Some of the cocks I see on the net make me wet they look so good. So keep showin' what you've been blessed with. Men who post pictures of their cocks may not realize that we women enjoy looking at an ugly big veined cock. We sit there and drool and masturbate while using your picture as a sex toy.
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When I go to another city on business, I'm an animal. If I see a cute guy I start flirting with him and before he knows it, I've taken him to my hotel and we’re having wild sex. The last time I was out of town at the airport I was asked to go through the new body scanner at the airport. But they still preceded to strip search me anyway. I was wearing a thong because they are more comfortable on long flights than regular panties.
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The TSA agent asked me to empty my pockets. I did, but failed the test in front of the new full body scanners. I was asked to remove everything from my pockets, and I did, although they were non-ferrous. I failed. Then I went to step two and had all my baggage scanned, and a man asking for permission to pat down my body, including my crotch with ‘the back of his gloved hand,’ as he described it. How nice, even though I wouldn’t be allowed on the airplane unless I said, "yes."
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They performed the infamous ‘residual gunpowder signature’ on my luggage. I passed, of course, and I suffered through a guy asking a lot of questions about my flight, my intentions, my home, etc. Damn, I am a Caucasian female and, while I know there are some that have done bad (shoe bomber), the fact of the matter is that I don't even remotely fit the ‘profile’ of a terrorist, though I know it may be changing at anytime.
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After I’d been through a lot of shit, I saw this female guard walking toward me. Even in her unisex uniform she was a beauty. She had gorgeous blonde hair that she wore down to her shoulders. Her hazel eyes seemed cat like and she looked as if she were ready to leap on me. Looking at my ticket, she said, “Rachael, you don’t mind if I call you Rachael do you? Rachael, you need to come with me,” and the next thing I knew we were locked in a small room with nothing but a desk.
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First the guard ran her hands though my thick auburn hair, then down my neck to my shoulders. Her hands gently squeezed my shoulders before sliding down my torso, ever so slowly and sensually. Then she gently reached under my jacket, her fingers lingering on my stomach before reaching up to cup my breasts. As she squeezed my breasts, she pulled me closer to her. My moan betrayed my desire and left me literally dripping wet. Stoned faced, the guard gave my breasts a quick squeeze before moving on down to my waist and around to my firm tight ass, finally running her hands gently over my crotch and then down my slender legs.
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Then she turned me around and said, "Open your mouth, cunt." I submissively did as I was told and she reached inside with two fingers. She fished around for any contraband and, finding none, she withdrew her fingers. Grabbing me behind the head, she pulled me forward and locked lips with me. The way that she stuck her tongue down my throat left no questions about contraband being hidden in that cavity.
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“I’m afraid, cunt,” she laughed, “that I’m going to have to ask you to strip.”
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I was wearing business attire, a black man like jacket and matching skirt that stopped a few inches above the knee, and a delicate white silk blouse that was vaguely see-through, and black heels. Underneath I wore a lacy white bra, a black sheer thong panties and black thigh high stockings. A little embarrassed, I slowly unbuttoned my blouse. Untucking it from my skirt, I slowly pulled it off her shoulders and placed it on the desk behind me. Looking imploringly at the guard, hoping for some kind of reprieve, I hesitated momentarily at the skirt. When the guard continued to stand there impassively and say nothing, my shoulders slumped further in defeat and I began to undo the clasp and zipper of my skirt. Wiggling my hips slightly I worked the skirt down and off my legs and placed it on top of my discarded blouse. I’d never been naked in front of another female before, so when I turned to face the guard my hands self-consciously moved to cover my bra and panties.
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"My God, you really are a fucking slut, aren't you? Look at those panties," the guard exclaimed. My eyes, suddenly doe like, wandered to my captor, imploring her not to make me do what I knew must come next. The guard’s expression didn’t change though. As my face reddened, she smirked, "Now the underwear cunt.”
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Escort for Fun
A Helpless
Part-2-of-6
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With shaking hands I reached behind my back and unfastened the clasp of my bra. Slowly drawing the straps down my arms, I finally pulled the cups away from my breasts and placed the bra with the rest of my clothes. As I turned back to face the guard, my hands immediately went up to cover my exposed flesh.
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"Keep your hands down at your sides, cunt," the guard snapped.
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Reddening further, I self-consciously lowered my hands from my breasts. Against my will, my nipples had hardened from the sudden exposure to the cool air blowing in from the air conditioner. Though the guard would never admit it aloud, I had beautiful breasts. The kind most women would love to own. They were extremely firm and had no visible sag to them. "My God, look at those breasts of yours; they’re not much bigger than fried eggs." She had no intention of giving me any praise or kind words. "Now, cunt the panties," she ordered.
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Hooking my thumbs into the waistband of my tiny panties, I slowly rolled them off her hips and down her legs. As I bent down to step out of my panties, her breasts swung tantalizing toward the guard. Once my panties had been added to the pile, I straightened back up and faced my tormentor, arms held firmly at my side.
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The guard stepped behind me and ran her fingers through my hair once again, all pretenses that she was still checking for contraband disappearing as she turned my head slightly and stuck her tongue into my hungry mouth.
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After satisfying herself that I wasn’t hiding anything in my hair, her hands moved on to my shoulders and chest. She lifted each breast, checking for packages that could be taped underneath. My breathing became somewhat ragged as her hands explored every hidden nook and cranny of my body. As she finished checking my breasts and stomach she took a step back. "Just hold still, cunt," she told me, "This next part is bound to be a little uncomfortable,” she smirked, “but I’ll bet it won't be your first time."
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Not daring to look back, but hearing the snap of the glove, my firm ass tensed. I’d never been cavity searched before, but had seen it on TV so knew what to expect. “Bend over the desk, cunt spread your legs and loosen up your cheeks, I really don't want to hurt you."
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I reluctantly complied, spreading my legs and my butt cheeks as wide as I could. The guard's fingers entered my pussy first, accompanied by a sharp intake of breath and a slight moan on my part. I noticed immediately that the finger slid in with surprising ease. I knew what that meant, and so did the guard. "You're really wet cunt. You must be starting to like this," she said in a nearly conversational tone.
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I bit back a sharp retort as, despite myself I gyrated my hips. The guard allowed me to enjoy the ride on her fingers for several seconds before removing them and wiping them on my ass cheeks. "Grab your cheeks and spread them cunt," the guard ordered. My excitement grew once again as her hands explored my now naked body. As soon as my butt cheeks were spread, the guard found my rectum and unceremoniously pushed her finger up my ass. I moaned loudly as she did, ass play had always turned me on. Slowly, and a great deal more gently than I expected the guard probed me quite thoroughly. I felt my face flush with embarrassment, but found that the sensation of the searching digit was pleasurable. I lay very still while she probed my ass.
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Surprisingly, she conducted her search as quickly and painlessly as possible. I moaned with pleasure as the desire to get my brains fucked out welled up within me, unfortunately heedless of my desires, she withdrew her fingers and pushing me firmly back down on the desk.
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As I lay on the table watching, the guard casually stripped off her clothes. Once naked I saw how gorgeous she was. She stood about 5-foot 7 and she possessed a rock hard 35-23-35 figure. Her breasts were firm and stood out proudly from her chest. Her ass was marvelous and as hard as her abs. Her legs although muscular were shapely and attractive and she had cute blonde fuzz above her slit. Naked, she was a sight to behold and to my surprise, I desired her.
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Fearfully, I slid off the table down on to my knees and kissed up her shapely legs to her thighs and lingered there kissing and licking. Then for the first time in my life, my face was buried in another girl's soaking pussy. Knowing what I liked and trying to copy it, I licked and sucked the guard’s pussy with passion while pushing two fingers in and out of her. I’d never known such intense pleasure as the guard unleashed a river of love juice as she erupted in a glorious orgasm.
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My face was only inches from her smoldering pussy; I stared at the swollen pussy lips and enlarged clit. Licking my lips, I inhaled the intoxicating aroma of the guard’s aroused pussy and watched the drops of moisture form on the guard’s delicate pussy lips like dew on a flower.
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Without having to be told, I stuck out my tongue. I liked what I tasted so I dove right in. my tongue flicked like a serpent as I pushed it as far as I could into her scrumptious tasting pussy. As my arms wrapped around my new lover, I squeezed her shapely derrière as I lapped up the moisture oozing from her pussy. I was soon lost in a wild feeding frenzy and couldn't get enough of her tasty treat.
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The guard moaned, "Good little girl, yes, eat mommy's pussy, make her feel good. Oh god yes, just like that, suck my clit … oh, yessssss! So fucking good … it feels so fucking good …yes, you've done this before, haven't you baby?"
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I loved the urging almost as much as I loved the guard’s juicy pussy. I paused briefly to catch my breath and looked up at my beautiful new friend and cooed, "No, I've never done this before but I love it so much. But if I’d known how fantastic it was, I’d have done it a long time ago. You’re delicious and I want to bring you pleasure."
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Possessively, the guard pushed my face deeper to her steamy pussy and said, "Eat it then, make momma cum all over your pretty face. Lick it all up! Yessssss, taste my cum and don't stop! Oh my god, you are divine, just like that, oh baby, I love it." I took this as a cue to go on. I knew I had her in the palm of my hand. It was up to me what to do next. With a little smirk, I slowly licked up and down the length of her slit. As I did this, the guard wiggled her hips and let out a little moan. Every time she would moan, it would turn me on. I loved hearing her moan, it really fucking got me going. Sensuously I dragged my tongue over her clit, and then on down the rest of her slit. I did this to tease her, to make her want it so bad she couldn't stand it. With a giggle, I then slowly flicked my tongue against her clit, not too fast, but not too slow. Just fast enough to stimulate her down there.
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When she cummed, she cummed hard, her pussy spurting and oozing and squelching wetly as she bucked up and down against my face. Her delicate lips flared out, sopping wet and dripping with moisture as she cummed. My tongued danced up and down her slit, devouring her sweet cum. She kept moving her ass in little circles, giggling girlishly as I licked and lapped and pushed my tongue into her tight pussy.
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Plopping down on the desk, the guard embraced me and then held me in her strong arms and cooed as she slowly came down. When we kissed, I knew that she could taste herself on my lips and that made me even hotter.
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Still on my knees, I submissively picked up her pants and held them. With her hand on my head for balance, she stepped into them and pulled them up. Then she lifted first one foot and then the other as I slipped her shoes on her. Before she zipped her pants I was allowed one last kiss. Then I stood, moved behind her and helped her into her bra, copping a feel as I snuggled the cups into place. Sliding her shirt up her arms and into place, I moved around front and buttoned it for her.
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As I tucked her shirt tail in, she raised her hand up to her chin and gazing into my eyes, lifted my face up to hers. I could feel her breath on my lips for what seemed like an age before her lips finally touched mine. Softly her lips pressed against mine, soft, smooth, warm, alive. Her warm mouth devoured mine, her tongue flicking mine as she bit and nibbled my lip. Her hand went straight for my breast, as she kneaded it, we kissed and kissed again. A sigh escaped her lungs between kisses. Her arms tighten about my neck as she held me even tighter in her embrace, her hands slowly massaging my back.
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When she slowly pulled away, I found myself looking into her eyes once again; her gazing seemed to pierce my soul. "I... that... that was quite something," she stammered, when she finally found her voice again. I smiled at her, glad that I'd been able to please her. After one last squeeze of my breast, she said, “Get dressed.”
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As I bent and retrieved my thongs, my guard snapped her fingers and said, “You don’t need those.” Handing them to her I reached for my bra. As my fingers closed around my bra, she said, “That either.”
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My guard watched as I slowly slipped on my delicate white silk blouse. As the cool material touched my flesh, I felt my nipples harden into eraser like erection. Conscious of how visible my nipples were through the vaguely see-through material, I slipped on my black skirt. Tucking in my blouse, I zipped up my skirt and steeped into my black heels. Thankful that it would hide my all too visible nipples, I donned the matching jacket and buttoned it into place.
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Following my guard through the door back into the terminal area, my faced reddened in shame when I realized that my guard was holding my panties and bra in her hand. Possessively moving me through the checkpoint, she waved her prize for all to see, a symbol of her conquest. Instead of just passing me through the checkpoint, my guard insisted on escorting me all the way to the check-in desk at my gate. It was like running a gauntlet of snickers and sneers from the airport employees who knew what the prize meant.
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While I self-consciously took my seat to wait for boarding, my guard took my ticket to the agent and checked me in. after a whispered conversation that required both of them leering at me, my guard went back to her post. When the agent brought me my ticket, I had been up graded from the business class that my company had sprung for to first class.
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Except for joining the mile high club in the restroom with one of the pilots, the rest of my flight was rather uneventful.
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I let myself get sucked into being a sub. He was upfront about it from the beginning so it was nice. I could have politely said no and walked away, but his good looks, all his intelligence, humor and talent clouded my thinking and damn, he was smart and manipulative as hell. It didn’t hurt that we fit together from nape to heel either. I’d always dreamed about being truly helpless and vulnerable. This time I truly was.
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The anonymous guys that I have sex with and I often indulge in submissive adventures. They often share me with their friends and sometimes even other strangers. And they all like to expose me in public places. I love all the sex but it’s humiliating to be used by others while others watch. It’s strangely exciting as well, but only if I feel forced to perform, helpless to protest. I know should be ashamed of my behavior and I feel mortified when I am called a slut or a cheap whore, but after awhile it becomes exhilarating.
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All of my adventures normally maintain a certain amount of control. I always have a safe word incase things get too far out of hand, although I've never used it. I’d been in town for about a week when one of the tires on my rent car started giving me trouble. When I called the rental company they told me their garage was only a few blocks from my hotel and if I’d take it by, they’d put me a new tires in about 10-minutes. When I called for an appointment, Ernie the manager of the garage said they had a full schedule, but that if I would come in after hours they take care of me.
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When I showed up for my appointment at Ernie's garage I was wearing dresses in business attire much like I was at the airport, but this time a Navy blue jacket and skirt that also stopped a few inches above the knee, a delicate peach silk blouse, and black heels. Underneath thanks to a trip to Victoria’s secret, I wore a lacy white bra, a black sheer panties and nude colored thigh high stockings. I pulled up to Ernie's shop and rang the night bell.
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A man who I assumed was Ernie came to the door and undressed me with his eyes as he asked, “May I help you?”
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I said. "I'm Mrs. B and I’m here for the tires."
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"They’re ready to go, Mrs. B," he said. "Have a seat in the waiting room and we'll get right on it."
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Reaching in my purse, I gave Ernie the car keys and he had one of his helpers pull in, raise it up on the hydraulic lift and removed the tires. I cooled my heels in the waiting room for a while but got impatient so I walked over to the door to check on their progress. Ernie and his helper, Chuck, were busy at work. There was room for three cars in the garage. Like garages the world over, tools and tires were everywhere in the general clutter. Grease and oil seemed to permeate all surfaces, including the messy floor. It looked like they were just about to finish up when Ernie called me from the garage doorway.
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"Ma’am, could you come over here, I need to show you something."
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I walked over as Ernie ducked under the car and showed me where some oil was leaking from the oil pan. "Looks like you might have a problem, ma’am," he said. "Take a closer look."
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As Ernie backed away, I foolishly slipped under the car to inspect the oil leak. As I did, I reached up to the hoist to balance myself and placed my hand in a pool of grease. As I quickly drew my hand back I bumped into the hoist. It was then that a stream of black oil landed on my peach blouse just below my right shoulder and above my breast.
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"Geez, ma’am, I'm so sorry, that oil will cause a permanent stain. No way will it come out. Did it soak through?"
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"I think so, Ernie. Do you have something to get this grease off my hands?"
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"Here, let me," said Ernie as he took my hand and started scrubbing the grease off with an oily rag. He then began to unbutton my blouse. "If we get this off," he said. "I can wipe off the oil so it doesn't drip down to your pretty bra."
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I guess Ernie had a pretty good view of my bra through the blouse, but it surprised me when he started to unbutton my blouse. Although Ernie seemed harmless enough, my stomach was fluttering at the close contact in such a public place. After all, Chuck was watching in the whole scene.
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"Mrs. B, how would you like to have some fun?" asked Ernie with a smile.
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"Well, I don't know, Ernie, what do you hand in mind?" But I knew what he had in mind.
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"I can just look at you and see how submissive you are," Ernie said. "And I like bitches like you, someone that I can control and bend to my wishes. Trust me; I can be just as devious as anyone that you’ve ever been with when it comes to putting a cunt in her place."
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"I don't think so Ernie, I shouldn't . . .”
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"You're right Mrs. B, you shouldn't . . . but you will . . . won't you cunt?"
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As I stood there between two of the lifts, I could feel those familiar urges. Ernie certainly sounded aggressive enough. My chest heaved at the thought of losing control with Ernie in a dirty, dank garage. Only a true slut would even consider agreeing to his suggestion. "OK, Ernie,” I whispered helplessly, “What do you want me to do?"
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"Whatever I say Mrs. B, or should I say 'my sweet slut?' You can start by stripping off that blouse. Take a look Chuck. I'll bet seeing her naked is going to be a real treat."
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"Come on slut, let's see …
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