Beyond the Horizon

Part 1

One of the lessons you learn after years of driving is that at some point or another, you’re going to experience the pain of repetition and predictability. Even when I first started off on the journey, I never had a destination in mind. It’s like as soon as I sat down and closed the door, it was getting hazy. It’s apparent to me now that from the moment I turned that old key and fired her up I was totally unsure of to exactly where I thought I was going. Driving is one of my greatest pleasures. There’s a sincere innocence in the act of driving. I lost sight of much of that, and from time to time I wasn’t sure if I was even in control. From a certain perspective the relationship between the machine and it’s controller breaks down, and it can become objectively difficult to distinguish which is driven by which.

To be fair, the warning signs were all over the place. It felt like I couldn’t go more than ten seconds without some sign, a precaution, a rule, a rule of thumb, a word of advice whispered in confidence. I always did my best to be a responsible driver. For the longest time I did my best to obey all the rules of the road, back before I knew better, or perhaps until I thought I knew better. Experience is the greatest teacher, not to mention the harshest. It’s common knowledge that to learn from experience makes even the worst decisions worthwhile. Sometimes it’s simply the only thing that one can take away from the curveballs so often thrown one’s way. The problem for the unwise lies in working out what lesson the accused is to take away from his crime. For the introspective the problem is rarely not seeing the problem at hand. They can even take precautions to make sure that one accident is never repeated, by not repeating whatever lead to disaster the first time around. For the experienced, and by that I mean the scarred, the disfigured, those drivers who possibly still hurt every waking day of their lives, there are an entirely different set of problems, regardless of their ability to learn from past experiences. The problem faced by the salty, by the ones who well and truly drove around that block more than they care to admit, is the inability to disengage from what they think they know best, and in doing so they find themselves sat exactly where they were before they even released the handbrake. One cannot escape his past, cannot escape the stupid things they did. But to make matters worse, they begin to see that so many of the reflective, glaring, fluorescent signs they are bombarded with as they hit the highway begin to contradict each other. They blur, they all look the same, sound the same. It seems impossible to follow one highway code without breaking another. At first, one particularly thoughtful individual might find, there seemed to be one over-arching Way. The irrefutable Tao of the road. The one true way. I miss that idea. I’ve reached a point where no matter how hard I try and see things as I used to, either I changed, or the rules did.

And so those rare unfortunates may find the signs begin to undermine each other. Slow down, but speed up. Be cautious, but never so more than you’re being brazen. Make sure to flaunt every last thing you have and haven’t ever done, because nobody likes It when you brag. And so experience fails you. It begins to lie to you, and even when you’re aware that there is clearly deception afoot, you become a man looking at a map with no reference as to where in the fuck they actually are. It’s at this point in my career as a driver that I also realised that for all the years I had been driving, I could not remember where I was going. I knew that I had been driving for a very long time, and I think at certain points I had stopped off at places, and I still remember the people I picked up. Some of them drove with me for the longest time. I always liked having passengers, but sooner or later, the destination is reached, and the journey has come to an end. But I digress. At a certain point, I found myself lost. It was the worst kind of lost, in that not only did I not know at all where and when I was, but in that I had totally forgotten where I had originally intended to go. I could not even remember at what point I had forgotten everything about myself. All I knew was in looking in the mirror, I was sure I didn’t recognise myself. I could not even describe the person who stared back at me. The Driver was a man about which you could say so much, but I’m quite certain that none of the obvious things you could gleam from that countenance were objectively correct. Nothing I’ve ever experienced has been quite so simple as that. First impressions are hard to resist, however. In a way it didn’t matter that I’m sure in some ways I recognised the Driver’s face, because from the moment I met his eyes with mine, I knew he’d always be a simple mystery to me, destined to be my enemy, the one who knew me the best.

He had the look of the man who has learned from experience as he lit that cigarette. The glow from the lighter revealed a face older and more weathered than I’m sure my own face was. He looked bad. I was certain he didn’t have the slightest good intention in mind for me, and yet everything in his eyes and in the tone of his voice struck me as sincere and well meaning. He spoke to me as if he knew me. We’re on the road now aren’t we? I’ve always loved these warm nights, the heady smell in the air. He grinned, and his eyes lit up. I suddenly felt thirsty. Thirstier than I’ve ever felt in my life. There was adrenaline coursing through my body now, and most of my worry had suddenly receded. As he rolled down the window, an old and child-like excitement crossed his face, as a child who is told on Christmas day that the best present has been saved to last. What does it even matter where we’re going? The pleasure’s in the driving. It’s also in the uncertainty. We passed a strange scene by the side of that long road. This struck me because until now it had all been so blank. There was a cow being led down the road by two men, one in front, and one following up from behind. We passed so quickly that the image struck me as an old black and white picture would have, fixed in my mind without the suggestion of fading. It was like some grim scene from a foreign abattoir, and I felt my spirit drop, knowing where the cow’s destination lay despite all his ignorance. He looked complacent if not slightly confused as to his predicament, being lead by his handlers as he was. For some unknown reason, I honestly felt very sad for him. Then I laughed. Fucker should have evolved faster. I couldn’t but help show the slightest disapproval, even if deep down something in me knew it was true. It would be pretty much the same if the boot was on the other foot. Or hoof. You get my drift. I laughed again, and I wasn’t sure if it was humour or desperation I heard in that laugh. It sounded strange to me, but laughs always sound strange when you really listen to them. Everyone knows what a laugh means, but that shit can’t be found in any dictionary I ever heard of.

The following is not real. Some of you know have known me will recognize some of the people, but this is not how this actually happened. People suggested I try writing something else so here you go.

So, Im going to be straight up for a second. I think about fucking everyone I meet. I think about how they would feel under my hands. Or how I could make them cum. I think about what kinky stuff they might be into. Is the fat old charge nurse into anal? What would that paramedic do if I asked him to piss on me? Would the clerk that checked me out at the store rim me if I went down on him?
All of these and more race through my mind. Normally I push them out of the way. Sometimes I dwell on them, and try to find out. And that’s how it was with my father in law.
From the moment I saw him, I wanted to fuck him. Joe and I had just started dating and we had gone to his parents house. My future father in law (lets call him Frank) was a runner. Not just recreationally. He liked to do marathons and shit like that. As such, he was in amazing shape. Athletic and slim. His muscles were well defined under his skin, and he had the sharp facial figures like a sculpture. His hair was still black, aside from the gray that had begun to appear at his temples.
To be fair, I was in shape then too. More than one, actually. They were just circles of various sizes.
From that day forward, I wanted to fuck him. I wouldn’t say I was obsessed, but I did think about it often. I was still occasionally fucking Joe’s brother, so I would find myself comparing their cocks. Joe’s wasn’t small, necessarily, but it lacked his brother’s girth. I began to wonder what it would take to get Frank to fuck around on his wife. He had raised one son to have an intense moral direction. Joe doesn’t like anything I like in the bedroom, mostly because he finds it degrading to me.
On the other hand, his other son was a complete dirtbag. He was the one that came on to me first. To be fair, I kept it going after the wedding, but he could have said no. What kind of a guy fucks his brothers wife the day they leave for their honeymoon?
So what kind of guy was Frank? One of his sons was an outlier, but which one? And then what kind of woman would not only entice him to cheat, but to fuck his sons wife as well. It was the kind of challenge I rose to. I had to find out. It would be quite the accomplishment, fucking all the men in a family. Well, aside from mine, I guess.
It would be a process. A long one. Find out if he would cheat. Find out if he would cheat with a fat girl. Find out if he would cheat with a fat daughter in law. Finally find out if he wanted a whore or an angel. I could do either, but angel was temporary. I would see him pretty regularly, once week or so, more often during the summer. He had a pool, you see, and Joe loved to swim.
So I got to work. First step was to see if he was even interested. I waited until the next time we went swimming. That would be a few weeks away, so I contented myself through masturbation that mostly involved him and my dad tag teaming me. By the time we were actually going, not even these clit sessions could tide me over.
I had thought about doing a two piece, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. So I settled on my one piece. It would be sufficient for this. The changing room was their bedroom, and it had a sliding glass door that led to the pool. There was a curtain to pull to cover it. I thought about leaving the curtain open, but there was never a time when he was the only one in line of sight. Disappointed, I headed to the pool to join the others.
It was while swimming that I saw my first opportunity. The pool itself was a saltwater pool, and at one end was a hot tub fixture that overflowed in a waterfall into the pool itself. Frank was standing by the waterfall, talking to Joe, who was in the tub. I dove under the water, and while I swam to the waterfall, I adjusted by suit so that I had a nipple peaking out. I wasn’t able to be sure, and I didn’t want too much to show, but it was a gamble.
I rose out of the water next to Frank, my left nipple exposed. I slid up next to him and asked what they were up to. Joe couldn’t see my tits from his position, No one else would be in line of sight if I turned towards Frank. Slowly, with the waterfall falling on me, I turned towards him and asked him what he was drinking.
He looked to me and opened his mouth to answer, but his eyes went right to my tit. I held my breath. Would he say something? Would he freak out? Would he just stare?
The latter. As he responded to me, I slowly exhaled the breath I had been holding. His eyes were flicking between Joe, me, and my nipple. I was looking him over too. His chest had a small v shaped patch of graying hair, his nipples sat flush against his body. His neck was ridged by firm tendons and muscles. Fucking hell he was sooo hot. Joe began moving toward the stairs so I dipped down and fixed my suit.
I swam away eagerly awaiting my next chance. I was optimistic about this thing for the first time. Pushing the envelope and taking chances were such a turn on for me that I was spent the rest of the swim time rubbing my clit hidden by the water.
We caught eyes a few times after that, but he didn’t really betray anything else. A plan took form. I would be the last to get out. I would go into the room to change, and somehow entice him in there once I had stripped out of my suit and covered myself. Then, a quick flash, or something. I wasn’t sure yet.
As luck would have it, Frank and I were the last two. Improvising, I got out and piddled around outside until Joe had finished changing. I went in, and began to look around the room for something to give me an excuse to get him in here. I had to hurry, and act while he was alone in the pool area. If anyone else was there, they might come instead.
It didn’t take long. There was a hamper in the bathroom for towels, but Joe had been Joe and just piled them on top of it. Under the pile of wet towels, it might be missed. I stripped out of my suit, and wrapped myself in a dry towel. I rushed to the door and looked out. He was still alone, but he was out of the pool.
I slid the door open. “Hey Frank. Where do I put my towels?”
He looked at me in the towel, and flipped his head to the main doors into the house, possibly to see were everyone was, then back to me. “I-In the bathroom, Claire.” He said.
“I looked I don’t see it. Can you show me?” I asked. Deliberately I looked down. His wet trunks clung to his body. It wasn’t hard to see the outline of his cock, hanging flaccid, along his body. It was hard to gage, but he looked bigger than either of his sons. I let my eyes linger, then went back to his face. I bit my lower lip.
Wordlessly he started towards me. “Thanks, Frank.” I said, retreating back into the room before he got there. Now what? I thought to myself. Just dropping the towel would be a high risk high reward situation. If he reacts poorly, it might be impossible to say it was just an accident. Instead, I sat on his bed, facing the bathroom. I spread my legs, leaving the towel on, but parted just enough.
He came in and stopped. My breath caught again. For what seemed like an eternity he stared at me. He smiled slightly, but it was gone as quick as it came. He moved to the bathroom.
“Oh.” He said as he rounded the corner. “Fuckin’ Joe.” He said. He leaned down to begin picking the towels up. He turned his head to me. His eyes right between my legs. I know he could see my pussy. “Does he at least put thigs away at home?”
I just shook my head, looking at him. He looked away and stood. “Well, there’s the hamper. You can put the towel in there.”
I stood, bent over to grab the wet one I had used, and walked into the bathroom, passing him in the door way. I turned sideways, ass to him, as I slipped through. I stuck my ass out, and brushed it across his groin, feeling his bulge as I did so. I dropped the towel in the hamper.
I turned to Frank. He was staring at me. “Can you hand me my clothes? They are on the bed.” His face was red as he turned and proceeded into the room. As soon as his back was turned, I went for it. I dropped the towel. He returned and stopped as soon as he saw me. “Thanks.” I said. And I took the clothes. He stared at me. At my tits. My pussy.
“Claire, I-“ he began. I closed the door.
Fuck. I needed to cum. I heard the door slide open and then close. I thought about his cock, I thought about him pinning me in the doorway and forcing it into me. I wondered if he would try to fuck my ass. My fingers went to my clit. It didn’t take long before I was cumming.
After, I took stock of where I was. I had gone for broke. It hadn’t blown up in my face. And I felt like I knew he would cheat. I felt like he liked big tits, and I felt that he wanted me to be slutty. Maybe this would be easy.
I was wrong. The next few swim days he was noticeably absent. His wife had said that he was running errands or something like that. She never seemed bothered. I fucked myself after one day imaging he had told her and we were going to have a threesome.
The next chance would be an unexpected one.
It was Labor Day. I remember because I was off and Joe worked, taking the double time that he would get. Joe was already gone when I woke, and knowing that I would have 7 hours in the house alone had me wet thinking about who I was going to have over to fuck. I had begun to flip through my contacts when the phone rang, the caller ID showing it was Joes cell. My heart sank. He had to be telling me that he was coming home early.
“Hey, babe.” I answered, forcing a yawn.
“You just getting up?”
“Yeah. Whats up?”
“I need you to do me a favor. I need you to go into the garage and grab a tool and bring it to my dad.” He said.
I sat straight up. “Yeah I can do that.”
“Mom has the car and she’s out at my aunts. He told me not to worry about it, but hes been looking forward to this project for a while.”
“Sure!” I jumped out of bed as he talked me through the garage and the location of the tool. Once identified, I let him go, and began to plot my course of action.
He was clearly hesitant. But he couldn’t trust himself around me. He knew what the game was, he knew he would lose, and he was just trying not to play. I needed to be able to get him to the table.
Clothes would be key. It was a little cooler, too cool for shorts, but leggings would work. No panties. The top would be a little trickier. My tits are huge, H Cups. Braless wasn’t an option, but I had an ill fitting balconette that let the tops of my areolas pop out if I positioned it right. A white camisole and light black sweater completed the outfit. I checked myself out in the mirror. A quick tug on the camisole brought a hint of areola into view. Perfect.
I went out to the truck, threw the tool in the back and headed off to my in laws house. The whole ride over there I had the butterflies in my stomach that were my vice. That anticipation of something new and different. The pushing of boundaries, the taboo of the act, the risk of getting caught. All were combining to give me a high that nothing else could touch.
By the time I pulled into the gravel driveway, my pussy was aching. As I rolled to a stop, I realized I hadn’t even thought about what I was going to do. I had been so preoccupied thinking about fucking him, that I hadn’t even bothered to think about how I was going to do it.
As I got out of the truck, Frank came out from the side of the house. He was in jeans and a long-sleeved red shirt. Sawdust clung to it. He stopped when he say me, but then continued on.
“What are you doing here, Claire?” There was a tinge of anger. Good.
“Joe told me you needed this.” I went to the back and pulled out the saw.
“Yeah I told him not to worry about it.”
“Well he worried.” I passed the saw to him.
He looked me up and down. “Tell him thanks.” He said and then turned with the saw and headed back to the house.
Fuck. This wasn’t working. I watched as he turned around back. He was resisting, but I saw it in his eyes. I know that look. Seen it in plenty of men’s eyes. I pulled the black sweater off, threw it in the truck, and headed off in his footsteps.
I rounded the corner and saw him in his workshop. Formerly a detached garage, he had turned it into his hobby room a few years ago. There was a piece of wood on two stands that he was measuring. A few stools and chairs littered the perimeter of the shop. When he saw me, he stopped and sighed.
“What are you working on?” I asked.
“Claire, why are you here?”
“Im bored.” I said, biting my lip. “Joe is at work, and hes not as entertaining as he could be even when he is home.
“W-well I got a lot of stuff to do here, and I’m not going to be entertaining anyway.” He returned to measuring.
“Well, anything is better than being alone at the house.” I found one of the rocking chairs and sat in it. So far, so good, but I was running out of moves. The silences persisted for a few minutes while he measured and marked different pieces of wood. Then it hit me. I had a plan. All I had to do was wat for my opening.
It didn’t take long. After about 5 more minutes of silence, he left to go inside to get something. I took my shot. As soon as he was gone, I jumped up and headed for the pool. Flipping the cover on the control panel, I flipped the tub to on. I raced back to the shop, and I stripped off all my clothes, placing them in the chair I was sitting in. I then raced through the brisk air to the tub, where I slid in.
The water was ice cold. My nipples immediately hardened. The water coming from the jets was warm, but still, my teeth began to chatter. I prayed the water would heat up quickly.
I heard the side door open. He was heading back into the shop. It didn’t take long before he rounded the corner. I waved at him. He slowly walked over.
“Claire. What the hell are you doing?”
“Entertaining myself.” I said. I made a show of pushing my hands down to my pussy. “Since you wont, I have to find something to do.”
“This ain’t right, Claire. Theres something wrong with you.”
I smiled and closed my eyes as my fingers slipped inside me. “Mmmhm.” I moaned in agreement. “Very wrong.” I said.
He watched me finger myself. He didn’t leave. I went all in. I stood and began to walk out of the tub. The chill in the air brought my chattering teeth back. “I’m going to go into the house and Im going to be entertaining myself. If you are bored, you should follow me.” And I headed for the sliding door.
I entered, thought about the couch, but decided against getting it all wet, and went to the floor instead. I got down on all fours, ass in the air, and began to play with my pussy. I rubbed my asshole too.
I heard the door open and smiled. I had won.
I rolled over and lay on my back. He stood over me. He began to undo his jeans and I moved to my knees. “You are going to love this, Frank.” I told him.
I was eager to finally see this cock. As his jeans fell I reached up and took his boxers in my hands, I pulled them down.
It was wonderful. Bigger than either of his sons. A good 6 or 7 inches, if I have to guess, but thick. His balls hung in a sack covered in gray pubic hairs. I opened my mouth, and licked the length of his shaft, my eyes locked with his. From the tip to the base, and then back again. He began to grow. I took him into my mouth and began to suck. Using my mouth, suction, tongue, suction, tongue. He grew to an impressive level of fullness in my mouth. I pulled it out.
“Gag me, daddy.” I said before plunging down on it again. This time I felt him hit the back of my throat and the first gag began. I felt his hand on the back of my head as he held me there. Oh yes. He wanted a whore. I’d give him that.
He let me up and I pulled back, rubbing the slime covered cock on my face. “You are so much bigger than Joe.” I said.
“Shut the fuck up.” He said and he forced it back in my mouth. Another round of gaging began. When he let me up from it, I went back to his balls, letting the cock lay across my face. I licked and gently sucked each ball, and then I moved lower. He moved back. He looked at me confused. “What are you doing?”
Poor bastard. He’d never been rimmed. I smiled. I stood and undid his shirt. Once off I sucked and nibbled at his nipples as I walked him back to his chair. He fell down into it. I returned to my knees and the blow job. Building up a good supply of saliva, I worked down to his balls again, and then to under them.
It was clear he had been working, but it turned me on even more. Lower and further I pushed, my tongue searching for his ass. I could hear him moaning. I reached up and grabbed his cock. Mainly to keep him from jerking it and cumming too quick. I finally found it. I thought about how wanton and whoreish I was being. On my knees, with my tongue on my husbands fathers ass.
“Fucking hell, Claire.” He moaned. I pulled out.
“Betty doesn’t to that, does she?” I smiled.
He shook his head and stood up. It was his turn to take control. He turned me around and began kissing my neck and rubbing my tits. I felt his cock pressing into my back. He reached down and inserted a finger into my pussy. I felt him pushing me down and over. I resumed my position on my knees, my shoulders and head on the carpet.
“Fuck me daddy.” I said.
“Where?” he asked
“Anywhere you want.”
“Does he do anal?” I shook my head no, preparing for the possibility that I was about to take a pretty big cock in my ass. “Just my pussy.”
I felt the head at my ass. I reached back and spread for him. “Yessss, daddy.” He began to push in. I gasped when he first popped in. We had no lube, aside from my spit, and he was bigger than any I had been buttfucked with in a while. I let my cheeks go. The pain was reaching my threshold. I took my other hand and went to my clit, hoping to off set it.
That seemed to work. The searing pain became more bearable. “Im a whore. Im a whore. Im a whore.” I began to repeat to myself reminding myself that I wanted this. He began to slid in and out.
“Do you fuck Bettys ass, Frank?”
“Call me daddy.”
“Do you fuck Bettys ass, Daddy?”
“Not in a while.” It turned me on even more that Betty used to take dicks in her ass.
“Pull my hair daddy.” He obliged as he began to pick up speed. He had the stamina I expected from a runner, as well as the endurance.
He was pounding my ass now. My own fingers had brought me to the point of climax. I screamed as the cum took me, clinching my ass around his thick invading cock. I fully expected him to cum. But he slowed down. Not wanting to hurt me as my ass was clenching, he slowed, delaying his own satisfaction.
As soon as I subsided, we resumed the fucking. His relentless assault on my body. I couldn’t wait to have him fucking my pussy like this. “Im gonna cum, Claire.” He exclaimed.
“Do it daddy. Cum inside me.”
With a shudder he did. With each pump he moaned and shook. I couldn’t feel him cumming, but I knew it was a lot. I only felt it as he fell out of my ass. He fell next to me, catching his breath. I moved to my side and snuggled up next to him. “Good?” he asked me.
“Better than both your sons.” I smiled.
He looked at me shocked for a moment. Before he began to smile, letting his head fall back to the floor. “Wow. You are a whore. But you are an amazing fuck.”
I smiled and looked down at his cock. The cum coated it, but it didnt look bad. I leaned over and took it into my mouth. He looked at me with a mixture of lust and confusion. I felt his cock twitch a little in my mouth.
I pulled off it. “I want you to fuck my pussy next.”

I confess that I had sex with a married woman

I am 29 and she is 41. She looks amazing, and Im not talking about amazing for her age, she looks terrific. She’s very fit, about 5’4, maybe 50kgs (I think that’s about 110lb), a or b cups that are very firm which surprised the hell out of me because she has a kid, long blond hair, hour glass shape that I love, without carrying a heap of extra weight or any hail damage. She talks a lot. I mean a lot. Its part of her job to talk (no, she is not in marketing).

The two of us share a hobby that has us running into each other weekend or so. I have more of talent for it than she does, it may have all started when she was asking me about the strategies that I have, which I happily share with anybody.

I live and work away from home and for Christmas just gone I was going home for 2 weeks and wouldn’t be back till jan 3rd. Just before I left quite a few of us were out and about for her birthday (including her husband). After quite a few drinks her husband left because he had to work the next day. After a few more she started dropping some subtle hints. Then her other friends left and the hints became not so subtle. After pretty well everybody took off but her and I, the most awkward conversation that I have ever had in my life started. She came out and said that she’s “attracted to me” and that her and her husband haven’t had sex in more than a year. Considering that we were both drunk we then headed to the back of the bar and started making out. After a few minutes we were kicked out by security and we both went our separate ways home.

It was only a few days later that I took off for home and I had assumed that by the time I got back that the whole thing would be forgotten about and that she would be over her little crush by the time I got back. We didn’t even have each other’s numbers so we didn’t even have any contact for about 2 and a half weeks.

About a week after I got back we saw each other and everything was fine. Nothing was awkward or weird and everything seemed to be back to normal. But at the end of the night she asked me for my number, so I gave it to her.

Then the txts started. It was really flattering. I am not a good looking guy and this spectacular looking woman was txting me about all sorts of things. First it was how we were going to meet up with our past time, then how we were going to meet up for lunch with just the two of us, then how we were going to meet up for drinks on Friday or Saturday night.

We had a few false starts. We had both been drinking, but I am a heavy drinker already and can handle a fair bit of alcohol before I start to go downhill, she on the other hand cannot. It has come to the end of the night and she has asked me back to her place despite the fact that it was after 3am and that her husband and young daughter were there. No matter how many time I brought that up and suggested we go to mine instead she constantly declined and I wasn’t going to push too hard. By coincidence we live very close to each other, about a 10 or 15 min walk. After about 30 mins of constantly trying to get her to turn the music she was playing down and get her to sit down next to me, the alcohol got to her and she started to feel sick, so that was the end of that. She went into her bed room and woke up her husband to help her into the toilet so she could throw up and I was out the back door faster than I had ever moved in my life.

The next week we got the cab back to her place again, about the same time of night and rather than go in, we stood out the front of her place and made out for about 20 mins, then I walked home.

We went out again the next day for an early dinner and finally she decides she want to come back to my place. But she hasn’t made up her mind yet on whether or not she wants to have sex with me. So we are making out on my couch with her shirt of and me completely naked dry humping until she gives me a handy to finish me off. That might sound shit to you guys but I had a beautiful woman give me a handy after not having sex for almost 6 months, and that last one was an ugly, ugly bitch.

Next weekend (Friday just gone) we are out again and very early she asks me if we can head back to my place, of course the answer is yes. It was pretty clear that it was going to happen. We are back at mine and this time it is straight to my bed we are making out for a long time with our cloths very slowly coming off piece by piece. She was wearing a light colour dress with lycra leggings, high heels and a push up bar. I have her dress and bar off again and her small but really firm tits are right in front of my face. She has these perfect nipples that have a really deep pink colour that is a really wonderful contrast to the light colour skin of her breasts. Im taking turns sucking on each one. After a long time I work my way down and for the first time I see her pussy. She doesn’t have knickers on under her leggings. I slide them down her legs and after a little trouble getting them over her high heels, which she never took off the entire time.

I start by licking her pussy which is completely shaved. She making moaning sounds and gently bucking her hips into my face as I go to town with my tongue. After about 10 mins of that she’s stopped me and started on my turn. It’s been a long time since I had a good blow job and it was just a really great feeling. I just lay back and enjoyed it for a while but it really wasn’t what I was after so I didn’t leave her there too long.

I ask her to lie back and ask her “are you sure you want this?” and she says “yes… but you have to put a condom on”. Ok, almost got away with it but its no drama. I put it on, kiss her on the lips and gently feel her pussy with my fingers to guide myself in. I push myself into her and she feels like a woman who hasn’t had sex in a long time. Im still kissing her but she stops and lets out a sigh. Shes soaking wet so I slide in without a whole lot of drama, without her feeling like shes a vag like a windsock.

It’s no surprise to me that she’s a screamer considering that she talks so much. I am on top for about 15 mins and I have her legs on my shoulders with her high heels sticking up in the air and our hands and fingers interlocked as I am going as hard as I can without going off. Shes stopped me because she wanted to put her legs down, so as I have rolled off her she has rolled on me, which is great news for me. I can last a lot longer when I am not in control of the motion. Shes have a great time on top of me grinding into me as she is scratching my chest with her nails and screaming loud enough for me to worry about waking up the neighbours, but not worried enough to stop or tell her to keep it down.

After maybe 20 mins she cums and drops down on my chest breathing very heavy. Her hair was in my eyes but rather than move or complain im just enjoying the feeling of me being inside her and weight on me.

After she has caught her breath she rolls off and pulls me ontop of her again. Shes telling me to fuck her harder and harder, and I am just smashing her has hard as I can while she is digging her nails into my back and I am pulling her hair (not to hard). It only takes me about 10 mins to cum.

We lie naked in bed for about an hour just making small talk. Despite the fact that I have had shit load of booze, she convinces me to give her a lift home with very little effort on her part. I didn’t see her for the rest of this weekend and she has already told me that she is busy on Friday night but wants to see me on Saturday.

I am still not sure how I feel about all this yet. I don’t know her husband as he doesn’t share this hobby that we have. The problems in their marriage are largely caused by his reaction to the financial problems that they are having. They have lost a lot of money in some bad investments and he has thrown himself into work and is completely ignoring her (or at least that is what she is telling me). But in all honestly, that sounds a lot like something that I would do if I was in that situation, I am a bit of an arsehole as I am sure I didn’t have to prove considering I just fucked another man’s wife. Its difficult to reconcile these actions of by say that he’s messing up his marriage when I have many of the same character faults (and evidently a few more).

I console myself with the fact that she made every single move from start to finish, which I am not saying excuses or absolves me from any blame at all, but at least I didn't set out to do this. Of course I could have and should have said not at every point along the way, but the feeling of a spectacular looking woman wanting to have sex with me is just too much to say no to. I have no idea how this will end but if at any point she decides that she wants to end it I will let it go without an issue. Hopefully I can just enjoy the ride for the time being.

If you have any questions, feel free to ask. I have no idea weather or not I will answer as I may or may not check back. Plus there are to many cum stains here saying "pics or gtfo" or "i'm the OP and I'm a fag" so there is a half decent chance that I will just never check back, but I might.

i think something is wrong with me. i randomly get into a state of mind and stupid horny where i dont want to do it anymore but i literally can not stop masterbating and sometimes i use things similar to cock rings and put random things in my ass and recently ive been pissing on myself and in my mouth and during that time of conflict with myself i really enjoy it. tasting my pre cum and pissing all over myself and mouth. 20 minutes ago i had this feeling happen and pissed all over my chest and in my mouth and i felt like i had to shit aswell. so i went with it and continued to shit constantly while pissing on myself until i also cum profusely and when it was all over i hate myself and dont know why i have this happening and i let it happen during that time. maybe someone else has an issue like this and can shed some light on me because this is getting out of control and i dont know what to do. 

my mind was full of dirty thoughts
and I must confess that when I sought forgiveness for my sin his holiness told me there was no return and that my sissy ass will forever be
his and never will I yearn for anything
more than to please his holiness every need
lest I be cast into everlasting flame. when I heard
his words I was afraid but my heart was burning with lust for his holiness
cane. I begged and pleaded for mercy but I hoped he would ignore me for I truly wanted nothing more than to be under his control from now until eternity. everyday I thank his holiness for showing me the way he cleansed my soul and now my mind is no longer full of dirty thoughts but only the need to worship and to please his every need. I am in service to a man in service to god and I am not afraid of eternal damnation for in heaven I already dwell.

I have just released an all purpose mind controlling cola into the United States' water supply. It will wake the dead. Zombies will rise and devour the living. And cola drunken citizens will maim and kill each other! and it will filmed for my new reality show!

I think if you wanna be perverted and weird and psycho and whatever. that's cool. I think if you wanna be perverted and weird and psycho but act on it and make threats like a fucking prick to girls on here who are actually chicks and not the scumbag douches that say they are and really aren't. I think you should be whacked. If you have some fucking obsession about on a girl on this website. You should go fuck yourself because this shit is about fantasy and not putting into a nightmare for some other chick. That's not cool. At all. So fuck you whoever is going around and threatening these girls online and saying crazy shit that should get your kneecap blown off and then you being tortured, in a very non sexual way, and after you should be killed. Don't be a fucking idiot and make the rest of us who can actually control ourselves look bad. If you can't handle your own mind. Your fucking stupid. Be morally wrong and weird and fucked up and perverted, but don't make it someones nightmare and act on it you piece of shit. Learn to control and use your etiquette, you fuck

I'm 100% BTM CD/trap/trans/whatever from Finland.
Plus size but most in my butt.
Into maledom, degradation, humiliation, CNC, slavery, patriarchy, weight control, denial, sharing me, etc.

Looking for like-minded owner/master types.
Going to have some boring weeks this summer, so if you are in the EU I'm even possibly open for some "fun".

Men MUST Give Mandatory Spankings
It's hard to maintain consistency when we have such a busy schedule and especially when my husband is out of town during most weeks. Sometimes we get to put in one solid week of submission training and I can really tell a difference in how I feel and how our marriage is during those weeks that he's home.

A spanking keeps me in line, and it keeps most women in line although the mainstream is afraid to face it or admit it. At first it feels embarrassing to say you need to be spanked, but after a while you realize there's no shame in it. Men are leaders and that doesn't mean women can't lead, but it means that we are designed to co-lead with the man.

Women have a whole lot more hormonal and emotional things happening in their bodies and minds than men do. I don't know about you but sometimes I can't even control my emotions. Sometimes I feel sad for no reason or irritable for no reason and that's when a being brought over his knee helps to refocus my energy and bring me to a happier place.

If I go a few days without being held accountable I start to use bad language, I get a negative outlook, I get crabby and hateful and angry, and then I end up getting a hard punishment lashing instead of the normal daily maintenance. I'd rather have the daily discipline than the punishment one any day of the week.

My bum is an instrument of peace in our marriage. When my husband is angry with me, we don't have to fight, he simply pulls down my pants and gives me a spanking, during which he releases his anger and I submit and the argument dies right there.

Being spanked is a stress release for a woman, especially if you paddle her until she cries. Making her cry might seem mean at first, but it isn't, it's opening the dam of her emotions and helping her release it all. Sometimes women just need to cry and then the world is a better place. Sometimes it takes a man's belt on her bare ass to provide that release.

Men, women need rules because rules make us feel protected and safe. Also, when we break a rule we need immediate consequences because that makes us feel noticed and loved. There is nothing worse in a woman's heart than if she feels unnoticed, uncared for or unloved. The worse times in our marriage have been when I've felt ignored by him or less important than other people or other things or like he was neglecting what was important to me. Those are big danger areas for a woman and men need to be able to recognize those areas and fix what needs to be fixed. Sometimes just getting on a routine discipline schedule will fill in the gaps and show her how much she is loved.

Men, be ready for your woman to test you out in public with her words or attitude. She may not even consciously know it, but this is a test. She wants to see if you will be strong enough to hold the reigns and follow through on your rules. It isn't always possible to discipline in public, but if the opportunity is there, take it. It will make a huge difference in your marriage. If you're out at a movie or a restaurant and there is a designated "family restroom" that is one room with a locked door, take your wife in there, lock the door, bend her over the sink and give her a belting or a hand spanking. If you are driving, pull into a secluded spot, open both the front and back door on one side of the car, bend your wife over the back seat so that the view is blocked by both doors and give her a hard paddling. I know of men who have taken their wife out to the parking lot, sat in the backseat of their cars with their wife over their knee and given them a walloping without anyone knowing. There are ways to make it happen when it needs to. At the very least, if you cannot make it happen, take her by the arm and whisper in her ear that she is going to get it when you get home. Let her anticipate the spanking for the rest of the evening and then upon arriving home, administer it immediately.

By making her spanking a priority in your life, you are making HER a priority. By caring enough to enforce the rules, you are telling her that you care enough about HER to make her feel safe and protected. It all begins with your hand on her backside in a consistent and permeating way.

So, if you have an inconsistent pattern, this is what you need to do:

1. Mandatory spanking every morning and every evening that you are together. This MUST happen without fail. Make time for it. Do this for a period of 14 days total if your weeks are broken up with travel or two weeks consistently if you are both home.

2. Seven of these 14 days she must exercise an attitude of submission by coming to her husband and asking to receive a spanking. This is in addition to the regular morning and evening sessions. Whenever you are together, for lunch, the middle of the night, it doesn't matter when, the wife must exhibit submission by going to the husband, taking off her clothes and asking him to discipline her. She may bring him a tool or he may use his hand, take off his belt, a spatula, ping pong paddle, hairbrush, whatever is at his disposal.

3. Prior to the morning and evening session, the wife must be given anticipation and reflection time. This is time naked and either in the corner or in spanking position, reflecting on her behavior and anticipating the discipline he is about to administer. It doesn't have to be a long period of time, 1-3 minutes is adequate.

4. Spankings must be long and hard to be effective. If her bottom isn't bright red and burning hot then it is not going to be effective. Hard, fast swats get the point across the quickest.

After 14 days she should hurt to sit down. Her bottom should be sore but her heart will be warm and so will your marriage.

i confess i want this pussy overflowing, full of cum and piss. i want my body and cunt completely cut and bruised, i want to be abused and humiliated. i want to be forced to be a human toilet, filled up in all my holes. i want to be strangled and shared, and completely violated. i love older men, i love having absolutely no control. i need my holes stretched and destroyed, and my mind broken.

This is a continuation of an earlier post, wouldn't post on replies so let's see if this works. It's about me fucking an employee of mine 10 years younger than me in my car. So she's been having MAJOR marital problems with her husband of some 3 months and believes he has been cheating since she hasn't been touched by him in a year. One day she shows up to work in makeup and perfume and starts getting pretty personal with me. Getting somewhat intrusive into my sex life and sex in general. The one day she was in a pretty bad mood because of her husband so I offered to give her a hug in the freezer. Nothing raunchy, but boy did it turn me on. 2 days pass over which our flirtation grows and grows until she says she doesn't believe I'm a man because I hadn't shown her, so I told her she would find out real soon, this exchange happened probably 5 times in one day. She obviously wanted and needed some dick. So towards the end of my shift I offer to meet her in the parking lot for a bit of 1 on 1, which she agrees to. Somehow we missed each other in passing. So the next day she starts calling me a chicken for not showing up and I her. Then we actually plan for love making the next day after our late shift in a nearby parking lot. Straight from simple flirtation to "lets make this shit happen." I suggested we have a kiss in the freezer to "seal the deal." Let me tell ya I had the worst blue balls after that. We planned everything to the T, even talked about condoms and where and how we would get on. So she shows up after her shift and jumps in my car, we go to a secluded, dark place and we both jump in the back. She strips down to her underwear, me to mine, and I get started. Mind you she hadn't been touched in a year and she was VERY nervous. So I remove one of her bra straps, start kissing her and sucking on her nipples. She's already panting and moaning crazily. I pull out my cock and she loves the size of it, so I have her start stroking. She then asked permission to "go down," never been asked for permission for that before, maybe because I'm her boss. So she gives me head for a bit then climbs on top, since she is still sensitive from the episiotomy it's better for her to control the motion, for now. So she starts off and she's going crazy, VERY in to it, even though we hadn't really even started. So I thrust my hips for the first time and she screams like a banshee. It's hard not to get in to something so very hot myself. So I let her do her thing for a while and she's telling me how much she likes my big cock and how hot I am then I lay her down in the back seat, put her knees to her chest, and showed her how experienced lovers differ greatly from mere boys. I've never seen a girl moan and yell the way she did, really made me feel like the man. So I finish, we get dressed, and I take her back to her car. On the way back we're both talking about how hot it was and how hot I am, and how many times she came, how she could hardly walk and her knees were shaking, and how inadequate her husband was. Then she says what I was thinking: Me being her boss made it SO much hotter. So I give her a kiss and she jumps out. So I hadn't seen her for a few days but I did see her today, and we talked all shift about how hot our encounter was and what else I wanted to do. So we went into the cooler and I asked if she knew how to deepthroat. To my surprise she said she did. Instant boner. So tomorrow after her shift I'm going to put her knowledge to the test. Sorry it took so long to post, Motherless was being gay.