The Summer Kitchen Ch. 02

I love two men. One of them good, caring, and faithful: my husband, Joe. The other is one of those “Bad Boy” types most of us probably knew in high college – the ones with leather jackets who rode loud, black bikes and got envious stares. They were always on the fringe, breaking rules, flaunting their freedom to do whatever they wanted, and to hell with everyone else. Almost always they were painfully beautiful, too. That’s the other man in my life – my lover – my guilty indulgence – Ryan.

My husband Joe is steady, makes a good living for me and the girls and is always there for me. He doesn’t deserve any of this. That’s what makes my deceit so abhorrent. I’m disgusted with myself but I’m so hooked on Ryan that I can’t quit him. Off-and-on, we have been involved in our affair for several years. A couple months ago he came back into my life after a year of absence. 

I hated myself afterward, but of course I went back and gave myself to him as soon as he called. As I said, I’m hooked. He’s my drug, my alcohol, my very breath. I know someday I’ll lose everything I have because of my need for Ryan. It’s as if that is already preordained. If I lose Joe it’ll rip my guts out. If I lose Ryan, I’ll die. Pretty grim tale, huh? 

After being gone for a year with no word, Ryan called. He’d been in my dreams nightly so it was almost as if he’d never left, anyway. We got together again but he’d seemed different – somehow changed. Always the devil-may-care type with little regard for anybody else’s feelings, since his return he was even more self-centered and demanding than before. Early in our relationship he’d told me he “owned me,” although he was never mean or overly cruel to me. 

Since coming back this time, it’s as if he wants to prove his ownership by making me do deviant stuff to please him. Most of it would’ve been too degrading and unthinkable before meeting him, but it’s something I’m now willing to do them in order to keep him. For example, the anal sex he’s now introduced into our lovemaking. I find it degrading and humiliating to say the least, and very painful. But I do love him and he enjoys it so much that I’ll do it, or anything else he wants. 

Since returning a while back, Ryan has been fucking me almost daily, until my legs are wobbly. My sex life with Joe during the same period was almost non-existent. I tried making it up to Joe and the girls by being more attentive and caring in all I did, but I know that’s just the guilt coming out. I know, I know. I saw all the venomous comments after my first post, calling me all those names. Whore, slut, the “C” word. Yes I am all that and more, and anything you call me, I deserve. 

In some regard, that’s why I’m writing this now. I’ve been self-chastising myself for a long time and it hasn’t worked, so I guess I’m seeking a little punishment for repentance, from other’s scathing remarks. As I said, I deserve it for all the pain I’ve inflicted upon my family. With that said, I’d probably do it again to be with Ryan. I know I wouldn’t be able to help myself. That’s how strong Ryan’s hold is on me. 

Joe couldn’t help but notice the change in me, and it all finally came to a head a few weeks ago. As I walked past him in the hallway, he took my arm and simply stared at me. I knew right then that I was busted.

“Time to talk,” was all he said as he went into the living room. Eyes downcast, I followed. I couldn’t even look at him, as I told him everything. By the time I was finished, tears covered both our faces. 

“Do you love this guy?” he asked, his eyes reflecting the depth of his pain. 

I felt more sobs fighting to escape from inside my chest, fighting it. I waited for almost a full minute before I could answer, and then I nodded. “I guess,” I said in a tiny voice. “I don’t know. It’s like he’s a drug that controls me, something I need in order to survive.”

“I see.” After a moment of just staring at me, he quietly said, “When did you stop loving me, Kay?”

I jerked my head up, staring him in the eyes so he could see the truth. “I never stopped loving you! I still love you! If I could stop this thing with Ryan, I’d be the happiest person in the world!” The sobs I’d been fighting came then, wracking my body as I hugged my knees. “I wish I was dead.” 

We talked for almost an hour, and finally had said all that could be said about it. I whispered in dread, “When do you want me to leave?”

“I don’t know, Kay. We have the girls to think about. This story disgusts me. You disgust me.” 

His words gutted me, causing the sobs to increase in volume. My stomach ached badly but I could see Joe was hurting just as much, and it was my fault! I vaguely wondered how a person went about killing themselves. Sleeping pills, that’s the way I’d do it. I couldn’t live with the disgusted look in Joe’s eyes – or his pain. His next words shocked.

“Go to this guy. Really get to know him, Kay. My guess is you’ll find he’s a piece of shit after a while, and come to your senses. I’ll give you a chance to do that for the girl’s sake. Take six months. You’ll have no contact with us during that time. I’ll make up something to tell the girls. If you show up again, it will be because all this is out of your system and you want to be a wife and mother. There won’t be a second chance. I don’t know if things can ever be the same between us but I’d be willing to try for the family’s sake. That’s the best I can offer, the only deal you’ll get.”

We talked for a long time and then Joe went in and moved his things into the guest room. Sleeping alone in the big bed I’d shared with Joe for so many years, I realized what a mess I’d made of our all our lives, and just how much this affair had cost me. I didn’t sleep. I think I cried all night. The next morning I called Ryan and told him what had happened. Of course, he was delighted. Despite my apprehension and the pain of having made Joe so unhappy, my panties were damp with anticipation by the time I arrived at Ryan’s house with two suitcases. I called myself a whore and a slut, but that doesn’t mean I could resist his pull on me.

It was the rainy season and Ryan’s work slowed down to a stop since he couldn’t build a lot of stuff in such heavy rain. That meant he was usually around all day. The first thing he did was give me a couple of the dress shirts he hardly ever wore, telling me that’s what he wanted me to wear around the house. That’s ALL I’d wear, he emphasized – no bra or panties. He’d then given me that devilish grin, saying, “I want you always available.” 

Since childhood I’d been told I was beautiful, and I could see that Ryan found me stimulating and very desirable. I often played on that to get what I wanted; doing sexy things like bending over in front of him, rubbing my breasts when I knew he was looking, enticing him to make a move. When he didn’t respond, I initiated the sex – just dropped down and took his limber penis inside my mouth, holding it there until he wrapped his fingers in my hair and pulled me closer. It was the greatest feeling in the world, him needing me. 

Because he was a type-A personality, or maybe just out of boredom, Ryan wanted sex three or four times a day. I guess we both did, really. A new world had opened up for me, one filled with passion, ultra-intense sensations and exciting deviant behavior – exciting stuff for a woman who was almost a virgin when she married. We were like kids in a candy store. I’d be cooking or watching TV, and suddenly feel his cock poking me from behind, or dangling right in front of my face. Or maybe I’d walk into a room and be whirled around, just bent over a chair and fucked brutally from behind. 

I became so dependent on this, when it didn’t happen with some regularity I’d seek him out and initiate it on my own. When my vagina (or anus) got so sore and tender that I couldn’t perform, I’d simply slip to my knees and suck his cock for hours. Okay, I loved it all. It was what I lived for. In between, I thought about Joe and the girls a lot, but Ryan always seemed to sense when I did, and suddenly be standing there with his giant cock out, that devil-may-care wolf grin on his face.

After I got past the initial pain of the first few attempts, anal sex became routine for us about once a week. It didn’t even hurt as much, anymore. Okay, truthfully? I enjoyed it. I also finally got to do the thing I’d only fantasized about until then – going to sleep with Ryan’s limp dick in my mouth after I’d sucked him into oblivion. Sex, sex, sex, that was my life, and I simply loved doing it with Ryan. 

Neither of us seemed to get enough of it. We fucked everywhere; all over the house, in his truck, at the movies, even in the men’s room at the park, while listening intently as other men came and went. It was very exciting and as I might have said earlier, during sex I’m extremely vocal. Suppressing my noises in that restroom stall proved very difficult. Ryan had laughed afterward. “I’ll bet some of those guys jerked-off out there.” 

I don’t expect anyone to understand this life style, heck I couldn’t understand it! I mean, how could we have sex almost anywhere, day in and day out, every single day and not get bored with it? Ryan had become my whole world and there was no room for anything else in it. He had me, and he knew it. I did everything in my power to please him. He knew that too. That’s probably why he never gave up on the idea of me “taking care” of his crew. 

At first, I thought it was just one of the fantasies he liked to have during sex, but I knew he was serious one day a few weeks into our new arrangement, when he said some of them would be coming over to watch football, and that I was to be “available.” Stunned, I sniveled, and then pleaded with him, but he simply dismissed it, saying, “If you can’t do what I tell you, do whatever you want to then.”

I was a wreck by the time the three guys arrived; Jose, “Biscuit”, and Carl. Jose was a stocky Mexican youth with a pencil-line mustache, about twenty-five. Biscuit was an overweight white boy probably nineteen or twenty. He had little pig-like eyes, wet lips and acne. Carl was an elderly black man, tall and slender, with a small gray goatee. He acted like he was pissed-off about everything, all the time. 

That morning I pleaded with Ryan to let me dress properly, but he insisted I wear one of his white shirts as usual. He said I “looked beautiful and sexy” in it. As they arrived with several cases of beer I scampered around putting out enough snacks for a football team. My face flamed as I remembered that they’d all heard my passionate cries one day as Ryan fucked me half to death at my home, when they’d built my summer kitchen. They had all been on his crew back then, too.

At first, Jose and Biscuit seemed embarrassed by meeting me face-to-face, but Carl just smirked nastily at me as I moved around the room. I got the feeling he thought I was just another white slut, and I felt he was ripping the shirt right off me with his eyes, fucking me in his demented mind. All day I constantly fought against tears, putting on a bright face each time I carried something else out to serve them. I wondered why they called the fat kid “Biscuit,” but I would soon learn. I glanced up to find Carl looking down the front of my shirt as I bent over to place chips on the coffee table. My face flamed as he chuckled nastily. 

Ryan didn’t help matters. It seemed he couldn’t keep his hands off me. Whether it was just to humiliate me, or to show the others I was his possession, I don’t know. Ryan broke out a plastic bag filled with “weed” and passed around a bong, and some papers in case anyone wanted to roll their own. I’d never smoked dope, and although I resisted, Ryan insisted that it would do no more than a couple glasses of wine would. I finally gave in and it hit me like a ton of bricks, maybe because it was my first time using it. I was pretty loopy after that and took a hit right along with everyone else whenever it was passed around. That seemed to help ease my fears a bit. 

As the day wore on, I felt all their eyes constantly on me, following my every move. One could almost smell the sexual tension in the room and to tell the truth, after all the pot I’d smoked, it was affecting me too. Maybe out of embarrassment for me, Jose and Biscuit attempted to hide their excitement, but Carl flaunted his, laying back on the couch with his legs spread, his erection making a tent in the front of his baggy pants. 

I staggered into the kitchen for ice, placed both hands on the counter, bowed my head and closed my eyes, wishing this day over. Ryan had promised me when we started our affair that he didn’t want to share me with other men. He’d even been jealous of Joe! But I had to admit that, “that” Ryan had been different than, “this” Ryan. He’d changed . . . become more demanding . . . somehow harsher . . . like Carl. I suddenly saw Carl’s long body sprawled across our couch – his large tent in front flashing through my mind. Vaguely I wondered if he was as big down there as Ryan. A shiver ran through me at the thought, for I knew this old man could be mean. 

As I passed Ryan, he pulled me down on his lap, kissing my neck. His eyes were a little glassy from all the hits he’d taken on the bong, and I wondered if mine were too. I could feel his penis against my ass through his soft sweat pants because, as usual, I was naked under the dress shirt. I felt him stiffen a little as I looked pointedly into his eyes, silently pleading with him not to do this. His only answer was to flex his cock against my bare ass, grinning goofily. I felt his hand on my thigh and glanced up self-consciously to find the others staring at us, their eyes hot, radiating their hunger. I shivered with dread and with something akin to fear. 

Frozen in place I was like a statue as I felt Ryan’s hand slide up my bare thigh, coming to rest on my hip. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion. I saw Biscuit nervously licking his dry lips, Jose squirming uncomfortably in the overstuffed chair, Carl, with one hand now resting on his stiff “tent.” The football game seemed all but forgotten. 

My heart felt like it would pop right out of my chest at any moment, my breathing racing like a runaway locomotive. I felt a little woozy – out of control. If anything, my obvious uneasiness made the men in the room even more excited. Ryan stared at the game on TV as though it was the only thing he was interested in, but his hand slipped over my thigh to cup my shaved vagina. I let out an audible gasp that only seemed to increase the men’s intense scrutiny. 

Although my long shirt fell well below my knees, I tried pulling the tail down farther, but they could still plainly see that his hand was under it, and probably knew what he was doing. I glared at Ryan, shook my head slightly and mouthed the words, “please don’t.” Smiling, unrelenting, he slowly forced a finger inside my dry pussy. I fought back a small groan, hating him. Pain – embarrassment – or simply pleasure? Maybe all three, but I was truly terrified. I felt Ryan’s wet mouth next to my ear. 

“Do you love me, or not?”

I didn’t want to answer, but I finally nodded with some hesitation. The pot had me confused, unable to form words properly. 

“Then don’t embarrass me in front of my friends,” he whispered again. 

I fought back tears and tried to sit still as he inserted another finger. I’d grown a little wetter by then, so it didn’t hurt as much. After a few minutes I caught a whiff of my own sex, wondering if the others could smell it. Maybe they could, because I saw Carl now had a strong grip on his cock through his pants, Biscuit also had one hand resting on his crotch, and Jose was holding a throw-pillow in front of himself. All of them were staring at the place my crotch would be if they could see it, none of them blinking. 

Then, as if my will had suddenly fled me, I felt my shoulders slump forward as if I’d finally accepted my role in what was about to happen. I simply gave up – giving in to Ryan’s demands. The drugs made my decision easier and I knew it would make him happy. That is what I lived for. I also knew it was a precarious fork in the road of our relationship, one that couldn’t be retaken. I wondered if he knew that, if he even cared. 

Someone scored a touchdown on TV but nobody seemed interested. In fact, for the next fifteen minutes as Ryan repeatedly worked his fingers in and out of my pussy about an inch at a time, agonizingly slow, nobody even looked at the TV. I could feel his thick cock pressing against the crack of my ass, hard and hungry, making me squirm. I suddenly wanted him to take me into our bedroom and make love to me, but I knew that’s not what he had in mind. Aware of the intense looks we were already receiving, I fought down the urge to fidget against his hardness. 

His manipulations had made me incredibly wet, providing no friction as his thick fingers slowly see-sawed in and out of my wet vagina. I suddenly realized he was attempting to insert a third finger, involuntarily lifting my hips to help him. When I felt it stretching my elastic opening and sliding inside to join the other two, I groaned softly, pulling my knees back against my chest and placing my bare feet on the chair cushion beside his thighs. 

Open and vulnerable to his assault now, I let myself fall backward against his hard body, leaning my head on his shoulder. My eyes mere slits as I stared unseeing at the ceiling, my senses so attuned to the sounds in the room that I could hear each man breathing, the small squishing noises as Ryan worked his fingers in and out of me. I was breathing in small, short breaths through an open mouth, constantly licking impossibly dry lips. All my sensations were centered on the nerve-endings in that spot between my legs. I was quickly losing it.

I realized cool air had somehow enveloped my lower extremities, and figured out that my long shirt now hid nothing from the waist down. Ryan’s fingers were making louder squishy noises as he increased his speed, and all the others were still watching us. My vagina lips felt bloated and sensitive, the pressure building inside my belly was a bomb ready to explode. I heard someone whimpering – finally realizing it was me making the sounds. 

I became aware that both my hands were covering Ryan’s wet hand, helping him degrade me in front of the others, forcing his fingers deeper, grinding my pussy lips against them. From a distance I heard some man exclaim hoarsely, “Holy shit!” 

Ryan’s thumb found my clit and a kaleidoscope of colors exploded inside my head. I arched my back, crying out sharply, shuddering and sobbing with need as I clutched his wonderful hand with both of mine, riding it. I shuddered and shook violently as the wave carried me someplace far away where I was the only one in my world. It lasted a long time and as soon as it subsided, another one started building. 

“That’s so fucking hot!” one of them said.

It was Biscuit who said that. He was kneeling between my legs, his fat little eyes staring right at my cunt! Ryan forced our hands away from my crotch, penning them at my sides, still holding my knees against my chest. Everyone in the room was staring straight into my open pussy! Jose remained in the same chair, trying to stroke a fat but limp penis into life. His red face told me how embarrassed he was about it. That wasn’t Carl’s problem though. With his pants now down around his ankles, his uncircumcised ebony cock looked like a fencepost sticking straight up, almost as long and thick as Ryan’s. His foreskin only covered half the fat spongy crown and clear fluid ran freely from it down the entire length. He locked his eyes on mine and I felt a chill as I read hunger, and deep anger in them. 

Ryan was slurring his words as he said, “Now baby you’re going to see why we call him ‘Biscuit.’ He claims to be the best biscuit muncher in the state. Go ahead, Bisk. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

When Ryan performs oral on me, I have some of the most mind-blowing orgasms in the world. Biscuit completely took it to another level! His mouth felt a yard wide, his tongue a foot long as he seemed to envelope my entire crotch from vagina to asshole – sucking, licking and biting everywhere at once. I was still partially in the throes of my last orgasm so I lasted only a short time, cumming so hard I convulsed against Biscuit’s face, clutching his head with my hands, squeezing it between my thighs and screaming with intense pleasure. If he’d eaten me for an hour I’d have cum for the entire time, but Ryan finally said, “Okay Biscuit. That’s enough. Save some for the others.”

Biscuit stood, his face wet, his cock only a couple feet in front of me. Ryan shoved me off his lap and I found myself sitting on the floor, staring straight at Biscuit’s groin. His cock was short, three or four inches long at best, but it was incredibly fat! It looked like a third gonad sticking out of his pubic hair! 

From above me I heard, “Go ahead, baby. Show Biscuit you appreciate what he did for you.”

I felt dizzy, the room spinning crazily, and knew it was the result of the strong weed we’d been smoking all day. It was like I was standing off to the side watching me do this nasty stuff, as I opened as wide as possible, leaned forward and swallowed his short cock. There was an initial bitter-like burning on my tongue which I determined was due to poor hygiene. I shuddered with revulsion but it quickly dissipated in my mouth. I found I could take the whole thing in quite easily, my tongue ending up against his soft balls. A

s my wet lips slid down it for the first time, his surprised snort made me think of a little pig. I instantly knew I was doing it right because the kid was making the little noises men always make when girls suck their nasty cocks. Irrationally, I wanted to giggle, but my mouth was full. I licked his soft hairy orbs each time I sucked the fat cock down as if trying to ingest it. 

Biscuit lasted only a minute or two before he shot a stream of watery cum into my mouth, groaning, “Oh, ma’am . . . oh . . . ma’am . . . oh . . . ma’am . . .” 



I thought that was just so cute! I clutched his fat little ass and made him empty completely before letting him pull out of my mouth. Some of his watery sperm dribbled down my chin, mildly disgusting me as I wiped it off with the back of my hand. I vaguely had the thought, “So now you’ve become an expert on the taste of a man’s cum?” If it’d been Ryan I would’ve licked my fingers clean. But then I loved him and this little toad gave me the willies. Yet, here I was in front of him on my knees trying to please my lover, Ryan. 

Thank god for the strong weed! Biscuit seemed embarrassed now that he’d taken his pleasure in my mouth, weakly stumbling back to the chair he’d been in earlier. As he flopped back down in the chair I saw that his fat little dick had almost withdrawn within his nut-sack, like a turtle’s head, now rather pathetic. 

As for me, I felt empty and unfulfilled as I looked up at Ryan in frustration. I started to reach out and grab his cock, which he was playing with, now visible outside his sweats. Ryan had the same dreamy far-off look in his eyes that all of us had since using the pot. He shook his head once and pointed toward the sofa. Carl was staring at me, a nasty smile playing at the corners of his cruel mouth as he gripped his hard cock. A quick glance across the room told me Jose’s limber penis had finally begun reacting, too. Whether because of the pot or just the entire situation in which I found myself, my own need had grown until I was practically on fire! 

I hated the haste in which I scurried over to Carl, stopping between his outstretched legs, staring at his rampant cock, my mouth suddenly watering! I had no pride left, no dignity, replaced by a desire to only please. I looked back at Ryan and he smiled, nodding. I scooted closer, smelling Carl’s musky odor. His cock was glistening, sticky with pre-cum. He wrapped one hand in my hair and with the other, rubbed the sticky crown of his black cock all around my mouth, painting my lips with his pre-cum. 

“How you like that, white girl?” he said, pulling my hair until it hurt. His eyes were scary, so much anger showing there that it frightened me. Why? I had never done anything to him. Why was he angry with me? He slapped my face with his cock a couple times, staring down at me.

Gushing between my legs, I groaned pitifully as I chased the spongy black crown with my mouth, trying to capture it. He finally let me have it and I almost purred as I wrapped my lips around the head, sucking and lashing it with my tongue. The taste of his pre-cum, combined with the weed I’d ingested, made me soar even higher. 

Vaguely, I thought what the hell was I doing there? Was I just doing this to please Ryan or had I always been a closet whore? How had I sunk so low, so fast? Once, I’d been a respected housewife and mother. I did the laundry, cooked meals and made love to only one man. Now I was a shameless slut crawling around on the floor on her knees, grateful when a stranger finally lets her suck his black cock. 

Thank god for the pot. It quickly blotted out everything else as Carl unloaded a deluge of pre-ejaculation fluid into my mouth and I stopped thinking about it anymore, concentrating on the cock in my hungry mouth. I wanted to take away that angry look from Carl, make him look at me differently, so I decided to do him, the same way I did Ryan. I slid my lips downward, licking and biting all the way to his hairy black sacs. I nibbled the loose skin on them, taking each into my mouth and gently sucking them as I lovingly stroked his cock. 

He kept grunting and catching his breath, so I knew he liked it. I lifted his balls and nibbled the patch of skin right under them, and then ran my tongue up the thick vein beneath his cock. Meeting his eyes as I did this, I saw they were still filled with anger, maybe even hate. When I reached the soft crown of his cock, I sucked gently on it for a few minutes, softly lashing it with my tongue. Then I let it pop out from my mouth and still staring into his angry eyes – lovingly kissed the spongy head, feeling it move and throb against my lips. 

At some point during this, his eyes softened and the hand that had been pulling my hair slowly slid around to gently cup my face. He gazed down at me as I continued kissing his cock, his eyes growing soft and gentle, his hand stroking my face with obvious emotion. 

I smiled up at him sweetly, and then suddenly took his cock in all the way to his balls. My nose resting in his kinky pubic hair I held it there for as long as I could, lolling my tongue over it while applying gentle suction, one hand gripping his balls as an anchor. Without warning he suddenly unloaded a thick stream of cream, with a loud grunt. Lump after lump of his slimy semen slid over my tongue – salty and bitter, running down my working throat – I was loving it. 

It came with such force and in such a large amount that I nearly strangled at first, gulping and swallowing frantically! It was like he hadn’t had sex for a long time and had it stored-up. I was able to swallow it all, licking his cock clean. Finally, I kissed the tip again as I stared up into his confused eyes. Massaging my scalp gently, he laid his head back, sighing contentedly. 

Something poked me in the butt and I saw it was Jose kneeling behind me trying to get his now hardened cock inside. What the hell? I was burning up. I lowered my head to the floor, raised my ass and he quickly slipped inside with a soft grunt. Grasping my hips in both hands, he hammered into me like I might try to get away, but I wouldn’t have even if I could. 

His dick was about the same size my husband’s had been. Before Ryan got to me, that would’ve been great. As it was, I was just getting ready to explode when he suddenly stiffened and poured hot cum into my womb. I was right on the edge but he went soft too quickly, leaving me hanging, my ass stuck in the air like an open invitation. 

Biscuit quickly replaced Jose as soon as he moved out of the way, and positioning himself behind me started slamming his short, fat cock into me hard enough to jar my small body. His stubby cock and flabby belly banging against my clit worked, and believe it or not, that did it! I came like a banshee, moaning, sobbing and shoving my ass up to that fat little boy as I clawed the carpet with my nails.

“Ah . . . ma’am . . . ah . . . ma’am . . .!” he kept grunting. 

For a fat guy, he had much more stamina than Jose. Either that or he didn’t want to disappoint me. Also, he had already cum once so he stayed hard longer waiting for me to get there a second time. When I cried out again, arching my back higher, jerking my ass against him, I finally felt him spurting inside. It felt warm and soothing to my battered cuntal walls. 

He’d cum stronger this time, though it was still clear and watery, which caused it to run from my pussy faster, dripping onto the carpet. Even after he climaxed, he kept working his stubby cock inside me as I rolled around on it and moaned, finally climaxing once more. It was like firecrackers going off in my vagina, one, two, three! When I finally collapsed onto the carpet, Biscuit grinned at the others in triumph. It was like; look at me, guys! I conquered this older bitch with my fat stubby dick! 

“Good lord,” Carl said softly. “I never seen a white girl so hot.”

After a while I heard Ryan slur, “Come here.”

Now that I had my belly full of warm cream I didn’t want to move, but I finally crawled to him, looking up with adoration. If I expected praise I didn’t get it. He offered his swollen cock, holding it out to me. “Suck this. It hurts.”

I did as he instructed, and after a few minutes of just watching us Carl came over and slipped his huge cock inside my well-used pussy. He started fucking me doggy-style, slower and more gently than Biscuit and Jose had. Every so often, Ryan would pull my mouth off his cock and hold the stem of the bong down for me to take another drag. I was absolutely soaring! 

I had no inhibitions left. After a little while of making my pussy feel really good, Carl pulled out, spread the cheeks of my butt apart and slowly worked his lubricated cock deep into my anus. Unable to move, almost lifeless, I couldn’t object. I was practically helpless to anything they wanted to do to me. With all the pent-up anger I’d seen in his eyes earlier I would’ve thought Carl would want to hurt me, rip me apart with his huge member, but nothing could be farther from the truth. Carl was even more gentle that Ryan was when he ass-fucked me. 

After a while I came on my own fingers just as Carl dumped another large load deep inside my bowels. Ryan coated my tongue a few minutes later, but I was so numb I didn’t even feel it sliding down my throat. 

By the time Carl and Ryan got through with me I was a basket case, practically comatose. That didn’t seem to matter to this gang though. All of them mounted me at least once more, trying everything they’d ever dreamed of – even though, by that time I was limp as a rag and not responding. Ryan carried me into bedroom after they’d all left for home, placing me on the bed, sticky and smelling badly. I very much needed a shower but I immediately blacked out. 

I didn’t move until almost noon the following day and when I did, I was so sore I just lay there and cried for a while. Or maybe I cried out of guilt because I’d acted like the lowest whore on the planet. Sure, there had been the pot, but that didn’t excuse what I’d become. I loved Ryan but I didn’t know if I could do this for him anymore. I just lie there remembering my life with Joe and the girls, how he’d respected me and treated me – and cried most of the day. Maybe I would kill myself. 

The sun had come out unexpectedly Monday morning, and Ryan had apparently left early to work on one of his contracts, leaving me alone with my thoughts. Depressed and alone, I called my new therapist and asked if she would see me. I desperately wanted someone to tell me what to do. I needed help before I went crazy. Once I’d shared what had happened to me, the first thing she advised was to get checked by medical personnel for STDs. Crap! I had not even considered that! Talk about naivety. 

I completely unloaded on her; spoke about my overpowering guilt, how I’d been introduced to all this depravity, and how much I still loved Ryan. She asked if I loved him enough to continue living this way indefinitely, and I answered that I truly didn’t know. I did know though, that I’d do anything to please him – to keep him from leaving me.

We went back into my past, starting at early childhood, and uncovered some things I’d totally forgotten. They were things that may account for my fascination with large penises, and provide some reasons for my inexplicable desire to please someone – and be controlled. She equated it to a form of hypnotism, a compelled fixation for someone, or something. 

I won’t bore anyone with those details, but it was enlightening and maybe it will help me cope at some future time. Right at the moment though I knew I wasn’t strong enough to leave Ryan. I needed him. Even at the current cost to my physic. She had a medical doctor she knew prescribe something for my depression, and made an appointment for him to check me for STDs. Before I left, I set up another appointment with her for the following week. 

Ryan was in a good mood, finally being able to work after two weeks of rain. He came in around noon, full of excitement about his new projects. That contrasted poorly with the depression I felt, so it wasn’t long before we were in a heated argument about what had happened the previous night. 

I remember clutching my head and screaming, “I hated it! I will never do something like that for you again!”

Ryan was unusually calm, simply giving one of his sad smiles. “Hell, nobody made you do anything. You enjoyed acting like a whore, Kay. I just gave you the opportunity.”

His words knifed right through me, cruel and unexpected. I’d done it for him! The world suddenly swirled around me as I stuck out my hand to find something to hold onto. The next thing I knew, I was on the carpet, staring up at the ceiling, Ryan’s arm under my head, his hand stroking my face. 

“Ah . . . baby. Don’t be upset with me. You know how I am. I just don’t think sometimes. Here, let me help you up.”

He assisted me to the couch and I laid my head back as he fed me cold water from a straw. After a while I felt better, struggling to sit up. We just sat there not speaking for a long time, and then he said, “I won’t ask the guys over anymore. Okay? No more football games. All those guys, I know now it was just too much all at once.” 

I brightened up a little after that. “No more sharing?”

“Well, if we do, it’ll be because you agree, and only one other person.”

“Ryan! I . . . can’t . . . do . . . this . . . anymore! What the fuck don’t you understand about that?” By this time I was crying again.

He stood up, saying, “Oh fuck it. Just fuck it, okay?” I heard the front door close as he left. 

That evening, I made him a nice meal, hoping he had settled down before he came home. He didn’t show up until after midnight, the food still on the table, cold now. He came in and sat across from me in the heavy chair. I hugged my knees and stared into space. 

“You mad at me?” I finally asked.

“No. I’ve been thinking. I think we need to give each other some room. We need time to think about what we expect from this relationship.”

Room? Room? I sit stunned for a moment. “What the hell does that mean?” I finally cried!

He was calm, sounding reasonable like he was speaking to a child. “It means that when we’re together we spend all our time fucking our eyeballs out and not listening to what the other needs. You must know by now that I need variety, exploration, excitement – you obviously want something like married life. That doesn’t work for me, Kay. Apparently, it didn’t work for you, either, but I won’t go there. That’s why I thought this arrangement between us might work out. Now I’m thinking that maybe it doesn’t. Maybe we need time to think about what we want. I’ll get you a room for a while and pay the rent so it won’t be a burden for you. We can still see each other . . . if you want.”



I felt as if he’d punched me in the belly! I’d given up everything for this man. I loved him and I thought on some level, that he loved me too! Stunned, hollow and empty, I fought to put this into words. “I . . . I . . .” I couldn’t seem to form the right words. Finally, I just whispered, “Ryan . . . please. Please . . . don’t.”

Ryan smiled sadly at me for a moment. “That’s what you said that first day, remember? You know what that does to me.”

Terrified by the track this conversation had taken I hurried to him, kneeling at his feet beside the chair. I wrapped my arms around his legs, gripping them fiercely as if by doing that I could hold on to him. Looking up with tear-streaked face, I whispered, “I love you. I’ll do anything you ask of me from now on. Anything, I promise. No more complaints. Please, let’s try. I can’t lose you.” 

The sobs started and I laid my face against his leg. I felt his hand in my hair, rubbing my scalp gently. After a while, he lifted my face, staring into my eyes. “I don’t do these things to hurt you, Kay.”

“I know.”

“I can’t promise you, I will act any differently. That’s just me. The way I am.”

“I know. It’s alright, Ryan. I love you,” I said again, just happy that I wasn’t losing him. 

Crisis avoided, but left unsettled, and that paved the way for our next serious confrontation. It wasn’t long in coming. Sometime during the following week, Ryan showed up after work with Biscuit in tow. They’d been working two jobs, Carl and Jose on one, he and Biscuit on the other. Biscuit’s car had broken down and Ryan was taking him home, but he had to run by and take some building material he kept stored in his garage to Carl and Jose, for the following morning’s tasks. The pick-up’s bed and both seats would be full of stuff, so he had no room for a passenger. 

“Babe, we worked right through lunch today. Fix Biscuit a sandwich or something. I’ll be back in an hour or two. Turn on the TV for him. Bisk, help me load this stuff and then you can eat.” 

Biscuit was staring at me like I was the “biscuit!” As soon as they went outside I went into the bedroom and slipped on a pair of panties under Ryan’s dress shirt. Not that it would keep the little bastard from staring at me, but at least I wouldn’t feel so vulnerable. By the time I heard Ryan drive off I had two sandwiches prepared, and Biscuit was back. As he ate, he constantly followed me around the room with his beady little eyes. It wasn’t hard to see what he was thinking. 

My face burned a bright red as I remembered my shameful behavior the previous week. He probably thought I was just a cock-hungry slut and he’d have a good time tonight. That wasn’t going to happen. I wondered how many nights he’d stroked his stubby little cock in the shower, thinking about that afternoon. No. Not the shower. He probably did it in his bed. I recalled his hygiene hadn’t been all that great! I tried not watching him eat with his mouth open, listening to him smack his wet lips in appreciation. Finally he sat back and burped quietly.

“That was great, ma’am! Ryan is so lucky! I’d give anything if I had someone like you.”

Avoiding his eyes, I muttered, “Well . . . you’re welcome. I have to clean these up.” I gathered the plate and empty cup, carrying them to the sink. While I was gone, he moved from the dining area into the living room, now sitting in the big chair where Jose had been the last time. I had the choice of either the platform rocker, or the couch. I chose the couch because there was room enough to tuck my legs under me, hiding them with the shirttail.

“We had some good times on that old couch last week, didn’t we? Huh?”

That took me completely by surprise! I glared at him and he was grinning broadly, his fat cheeks looking like they were still full of food. 

“Biscuit . . .”

“Please don’t call me that, ma’am. I’m Tom. That’s a man’s name. Biscuit is something they call me just to pick on me. I’m not a boy now, I’m a man.”

Looking closely I could see that the timid, weak-chinned boy I’d met last week had subtlety changed. Maybe it was because he’d finally been laid and didn’t have to just beat-off while watching porn. I knew I wasn’t being kind, but I didn’t feel too kind at the moment. Biscuit . . . Tom . . . whatever . . . looked confident, more in control than the young fat kid I knew as Biscuit. He now stared back at me with pure lust! He was suddenly speaking again and I struggled to pay attention. 

“. . . can I call you Kay? Ma’am sounds too formal after . . . you know. We’re more like ‘friends’ now, right?”

I certainly didn’t like where this was headed. The little troll disgusted me. How I ever let him do all those things to me, couldn’t be justified. It had to have been the pot Ryan bought! He’d said it was the purest he’d ever seen. One thing’s for sure I promised myself, Biscuit would never get his chubby little hands on this girl again. 

“Ryan said to tell you to do the same thing as last time, for me.”

“What?”

“We worked a ten hour day right through lunch, and Ryan said I’d really done good today. He said to tell you that he ‘said for you to take care of me.’ You know . . . like the last time.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing! Ryan wouldn’t do that! Would he? Remembering our earlier fight and something he’d said about “one other person” being okay, I suddenly wasn’t so sure. “That’s not going to happen, Bis. . . uh, Tom. I’m not like that. It was the weed we smoked and it made me act a little crazy. Forget it.”

“Well, Ryan said to.” 

We argued for a while, as I resorted to attempting to shame him with the “friendship” thing, and finally berating him, calling him names. He didn’t budge, insisting this is what Ryan promised him before he left. At last, Biscuit threatened, “If you don’t, I’ll tall Ryan.” He sounded like a petulant little boy, his bottom lip protruding. 

I knew I was beaten, remembering the pain I’d felt earlier when I thought I’d lost him. Ryan had almost kicked me out during an argument about almost this very thing. If I lost him I couldn’t make it. Suddenly, I was overwhelmed by a wave of desperation. There seemed nowhere to run from this. I watched in dismay as Biscuit/Tom loosened his belt and peeled his pants off. His flabby belly almost hid his fat penis, but I could see it was already hard and pointing straight out, all of four inches of it. 

“Come on, Kay. Just like you did last time,” he rasped hoarsely. My mind racing, searching for some way out of this, I hesitated. “I’ll tell Ryan if you don’t do it right,” he said with malice

Like a robot, I finally stood and walked over to his chair. I knelt about a foot away, defeated and feeling a little sick I was unable to meet his eyes. I decided that if I had to do this, I’d get it over with quickly. This time his vile seed would dump onto the carpet, not my mouth! It was no big deal really, just an appendage and a little body fluid. I’d done it before. It wouldn’t mean a thing! 

I caught a whiff of his genitals, remembering the last time and how it’d initially stung my tongue. I considered getting a washcloth and cleaning his dick before going any farther, but he suddenly wrapped his chubby fingers in my hair and pulled my mouth up close. 

“Lick it,” he whispered, sounding like he was in pain. 

I hesitated, but the burning on my scalp convinced me I had no other choice, so I flicked out my tongue and tasted the moisture forming there. He tightened his fingers, letting me know what he wanted. The thick, flat crown made up almost half the length of his entire cock. Wider and thicker than Ryan’s, it looked like the head of a giant cobra. I open my mouth so wide my jaws ached, closing my lips over the cobra-like head. Blocking my mind as to what I was doing, I started sucking. Yep. It stung my tongue for a couple seconds, just like I’d suspected it would. 

Still feeling a little nauseous, I pretended it was Ryan I was doing it to, in an attempt to make my debasement less demeaning. I imagined Ryan’s face contorted with pleasure like it does when I perform oral on him, and that somehow made it a little easier. I sucked and licked the stubby cock, and after just a short time it began emitting more fluid. Feeling my cheeks hollow with the effort I increased my suction, lashing it with my tongue. The pressure on my hair had eased up by then. Tom’s pre-cum was coming in tiny spurts and I knew he was getting close. I’d have to pull away quickly when he ejaculated, just let it fall to the floor. 

The carpet would need a good cleaning after what it’d been through lately. I fought back a silly giggle. Suddenly, he was pushing my head away, grunting with an effort to keep from cumming. I fought back, struggling to keep my mouth in contact with the head. I just wanted to get it over with, but the pain in my scalp proved too much and he won. 



He held my face between his hands, staring down angrily. “Damn it, bitch! Stop fighting me all the fucking time! I ain’t ready for this to end yet! I want to remember this for a long time.” Then more softly, he said, “lick my balls a little, Kay. Like you did last time.” 

He pulled my head down and buried my face against his damp nuts. I pretended it was still Ryan, doing as he ordered, nibbling, licking and sucking as my saliva made them wetter. Wanting to get it over with quickly, I took his balls in my hand, tugging on them, scratching, and squeezing harder than I did with Ryan. Biscuit seemed oblivious to the pain, in fact, it appeared he relished it. I felt like punching them really hard, but that would probably be taking it too far. Somehow I had to get him off and kick his fat ass out! My face burned with shame. I didn’t want Ryan coming back to see this, even though he’d made it happen.

As I lifted his surprisingly large balls, biting underneath them, Biscuit Tightened his hold on my hair and pushed my head lower. At the same time he slid toward the front of the chair cushion, pulling his knees wider apart. His intention was clear now, as he forced my face into the sweaty crevice between his fat cheeks. It smelled strongly of preparation, felt overly hot against my face. I struggled but it was futile. I saw his puckered anus right there, and prayed he was clean as he pushed my face against it, wiggling and breathing in deep gulps. I refused to do as he wanted so he punished me by simply rubbing the crack of his ass up and down on my face until I finally stuck out my tongue and licked here he wanted. I wanted to puke!

When my tongue made contact, he grunted loudly and immediately stopped moving his hips, now rewarding my effort. I was just thankful that at least, he smelled clean! I continued licking his elastic little button for a while as he alternately grunted and moaned. After a while, he pulled his cheeks farther apart to give me better access and I finally got the tip of my tongue inside. I thought he would cum right then as I pumped his cock in one hand, biting and licking his anus in hopes that he would go-off. Maybe he was a closet fag, I thought angrily, and liked it up the ass. Once more, he pushed me away at the last minute, pulling my head back up to where he could reinsert his cock into my mouth. 

His pre-cum flowed constantly now and I knew I had him! I licked and sucked for less than a minute before he tightened his fingers in my hair to prevent me from moving away, and emptied his watery cum into my throat. I tried pulling off at the last minute but he shoved his hips upward, holding my face tight against his groin as he unloaded stream after stream over my tongue. 

His cock wasn’t long, but it was incredibly thick and it reached the opening of my throat, completely shutting off my air supply. I beat against his chest with my tiny hands, as I felt my head swimming, blackness closing in. I was going to die right here with this creep’s stubby little dick down my throat, strangled to death! The one saving grace was that I probably deserved it.

Just before blacking out, he pushed me away and I fell beside the chair, sucking precious air into my tortured lungs. I could hear him also gasping for breath. I hope he has a heart attack, I remember thinking. I closed my eyes, letting my panic subside, resting my speeding heart. I felt him move, suddenly lifting my legs, wrapping his arms behind my knees, and burying his face in my crotch! Livid, I struggled, but in my weakened condition due to being almost strangled by his fat dick, I was no match for him. 

He’d done oral sex on me the last time too, and I now recalled that he was better at it than Ryan was. In fact, he had no match. His tongue felt twice as long and thick as Ryan’s, and his wet lips seemed to be touching everywhere at once as he sucked my pussy lips into his mouth, tugging at them, wrapping his wet lips around my swollen clit, alternately sucking and biting it, swiping it like a credit card from my anus to my clit, and then back down. 

I groaned aloud in defeat, in a short time I was completely lost to his manipulations. Soon, I was clutching his head between my hands, gripping it with my trembling thighs, pushing my belly up trying to get his entire face inside my exploding snatch. 

I came really hard, sobbing and thrashing – begging. Still high from that one, wanting another one, I felt his weight pressing down on me, his cock insistently pushing against my wet opening. Unthinking now, I opened wider, accepting him, needing him inside me filling the empty void. He immediately began hammering into my gushing vagina urgently, like he was running a hundred yard dash. I ran right with him, matching his every thrust, trading groan for groan, swallowing the thick tongue that had just licked my pussy and asshole. 

Looking down at me I heard him say, “Kay, you are the most beautiful woman in the world.” He didn’t bang against my cervix like Ryan or maybe Carl did, but his cock was so thick it rubbed my swollen clit every time he shoved it in or pulled it out. I felt relief approaching in the distance and then it hit, slamming into my body so hard I felt as if I’d shake apart, clutching his fat ass with my trembling thighs, licking his mouth as I cried out, digging my nails into his chubby cheeks and going out of my mind with pleasure. 

He flipped me over, raised my ass up and mounted me from the rear doggy-style. I vaguely remembered that he’d been able to last a long time the last time he’d fucked me. It seemed after he came once he could take his time, making it last. As for me, I always come quickly, but I can do it over and over all night, once I got going. Before he came I was already into another orgasm, lifting my ass upward to capture a scant inch more of his short cock, feeling it scraping my raw clit, bringing me to the edge again. Just before I went off, he stopped and pulled out. 

Groaning in frustration, I waved my ass around, enticing him to proceed, to hurry and let me finish. “He was looking right into my gapping snatch. “Wow, are you ever lubricated! You are absolutely soaking wet!” He exclaimed.

I didn’t care about that. “Tom . . . please . . . do me. Please . . .”

“I love to hear you say that.” He crawled behind me again and swiped his cock through the folds of my pussy a couple times, then pressed it against my anus! I cried out, trying to pull away. But he gripped my hips strongly, pulling me against his cock with force. Nearly worn out from the force of all my orgasms, I weakly submitted, feeling like I was tearing apart when the wide cobra-headed cock popped through my elastic opening. He took it slow, seeming to know what he was doing as he reached under me, fingering my clit. 

I wondered how much porn he watched. How else would someone like this know anything? Then another explosion hit me and I almost tore his cock off at the base I was jerking around so much. He couldn’t take it either and I felt his semen bouncing off the walls of my bowels, planting his seed deep inside my belly. It was the longest, most intense orgasm of the afternoon. When it was over, I collapsed onto the stained carpet, gasping for breath. Soon, Biscuit was beside me. 

“Well, isn’t that a pretty sight?”

It was Ryan. Apparently he’d come in as we were fucking. Mortified, I sat up and drew my knees up, covering my messy crotch. Biscuit lay on his back, his cock still glistening with our fluids. 

“What the fuck?” Ryan yelled. “I leave you alone for an hour with someone and you just have to fuck him?”

“I . . . I . . .” Stammering pitifully. “He said you told me I had to have sex with him,” I sobbed. “I only wanted to please you!” 

“Looked to me like you were pretty pleased yourself!” he shouted. He glared down at Biscuit. “I ought to kill your little fat ass,” he growled. 

“I’m sorry, Boss! She just kept after me until I couldn’t take it anymore. She was sucking me off before you got out of the driveway!”

Voiceless, I stared at Biscuit as though he came from another planet. Then his words sunk in. “Why you . . . you . . . fat creep. Don’t you fucking lie about me or I’ll tear your fucking balls off!” I didn’t even know I could use words like that. Biscuit drew back in fear, screaming like a little girl as I crawled toward him, fury shooting from my eyes. 

“Settle down! Both of you,” Ryan shouted. “Biscuit, you did this, you lying little asshole! Get dressed and get out before I stomp a hole in your ass!”

I grabbed my shirt and hurriedly slipped into it as Biscuit practically ran out the front door, while still dressing. I stood up wobbly, and sit down heavily in the chair, quietly staring at the floor as Ryan looked at me. “I didn’t do it,” I finally muttered. “I’m not lying. He really did say you told me I had to. I would never screw somebody else willingly.”

He sighed deeply. “I know. I can see how it happened. Biscuit looks stupid but he’s pretty cunning. He saw how I like to control you, and that you do about anything you can to please me. He used that to his advantage. I never should’ve left him behind.”

“Can I sit by you?” I asked softly.

“Later, after you wash that asshole’s mess off.” He stood. “It looks like you’ve learned to enjoy anal sex pretty well.” He left me to think about that last statement. 

I felt dirty – used again, and then discarded. I couldn’t move for a while. A sticky wetness was growing on both inter-thighs, oozing from either my raw vagina or my battered anus – they both hurt. Exhausted beyond belief, my body aching from the plummeting I’d received from Biscuit, I felt my shoulders slump in defeat. What a fool I was. I was really stupid. I’d let a pimply-faced nineteen year-old boy dupe me into doing anything he wanted to my body. I was pretty disgusted that I’d enjoyed most of it, too. I sighed, stood and headed for the shower, too tired to even contemplate tomorrow.

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