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Three weeks after Liz moved out, breaking up our ménage a trois, Penny and I were lying in a post orgasmic haze, having just spent the afternoon celebrating our eight year anniversary. Of course we didn’t acknowledge the several months during which we had ‘broken up’ a few years ago. It had been a mere blip in the ongoing relationship.
We were in the last six months of our Final year at University, and the pressure was on. We had somehow not found time to make love for a week. We had both been too tired, to busy, too stressed, too narky. But I had insisted on a day off for our anniversary, and after a lovely, if cold, walk in the park to settle the celebration lunch we had drifted home, gone to bed, and re-affirmed the long held belief that we were really good together.
The only discordant bit was that in the pink fog of relaxation Penny dropped the word ‘tattoo’.
I didn’t want her to get one. She had been musing about it for a year. She had wanted me to mark her, either for her to get my name, or some symbol that I would choose, that she would know meant she was mine. Something more permanent than a ring. I wouldn’t hear of it. I thought the process was disgusting and the results usually ugly, and always ugly after a few years.
But I was also, now, trying to convince her to make her own choices, do her own thing, control her own life. By telling her not to, because I didn’t like it, I was playing the Master, controlling her, which I was keen not to do.
Penny and I had fallen into a swinging group, the year before, and she had become increasingly submissive, to the point that I thought it was morbid. She wanted to be my slave. She submitted to anyone and anything that was suggested. She stopped being herself, or at least, she changed so much that she wasn’t who she had been. She wasn’t my girlfriend any more, she became a thing, a sex toy, a puppet.
In the end I became disgusted by her, and with myself. I tried to break her out of that dark fantasy mindset, and thought I was succeeding until she allowed herself to be fucked by a dozen young men at a party. That gang rape (as I always thought if it, even though she claimed she was not raped, that she was willing) had left her injured and with an STD.
I had spent month’s trying to build her self confidence and some sense of self worth, and self preservation.
Do what was I to do? I hated the idea, but I wanted her to make the choice herself. So I asked her why she wanted one.
“Because it’s my body. I know it sounds childish, but I know my father would hate it. And, and I know you don’t like the idea, but I think you would come to like it. So if I do it it will be me, in control of my own body. Not someone else. And I will choose my own design. And where it goes.”
“Great!” I said, with as much enthusiasm as I could. “Can I just make one comment?”
“If it is visible it will ruin your chances of a teaching job in most schools. You know that. But if you feel you need one to prove you can be in control, then that’s okay. But you don’t need to prove it to me. Just be it.”
She grunted, but said no more about it.
Two weeks later Penny still didn’t have a tattoo. But she had become somewhat more assertive over the passing days. I was pleased. I was especially pleased when she ambushed me as I came in through the door. It was a Thursday afternoon. I knew Tilly, our house mate, was at her evening class that night, so we would have the place to ourselves and that often meant we could indulge our passions, but the sight of Penny wearing nothing but a fishnet catsuit emerging from the living room was still unexpected.
She slinked down the hall towards me, grabbed the front of my jacket, and pulled me into a kiss. It was fierce and hard. She pushed me back and said “Strip.”
Her eyes were sparkling. It was totally unlike her. “I want you naked and hard and on the floor in thirty seconds. I’ve been watching porn movies for the last hour and I want a cock in me, right now.”
“Yes, Mam.” I said.
She helped, roughly, nearly tearing the clothes from me, and pushing me towards the living room door at the same time. On the screen I could see a blonde girl getting very soundly pounded by a very large black cock. Penny pushed me to the floor in front if the TV, my head towards the screen, and straddled me so that she was facing the film as she reached down and grabbed my cock.
The bodysuit had no crotch. She held me straight up and sank straight down, not looking at me, but staring at the couple who were grunting and shrieking. I grunted as well. She had dropped onto me with all her weight, her pussy taking my length in one swift stroke, clenching my shaft, squeezing my tip. Her mons hit my stomach, and forced the sound from me. Then she started to rock and move her hips, grinding her clit against me, and rapidly breathing harder and deeper. She grabbed and squeezed and twisted at her own breasts and I heard her mutter “That’s it, fuck her, fuck her hard, oh yes, fuck her cunt, fuck, fuck her cunt poker oyna with that lovely big cock, oh yes, fuck the bitch, fuck her, fuck the little white slut, come in her cunt, come on you bastard, fuck her hard, fuck her harder, oh yes!”
I watched her as she rode me, her eyes gleaming with the reflections of the porn stars. Of course she was aware of me, but she was lost in a fantasy, and when she said those last words and closed her eyes and bounced on my cock I knew she was going to come and that this was her orgasm, all hers, not something I had given her, even if she had used me to get it.
She swayed, eyes still shut, hands still clutched to her breasts, head back, a flush of dark pink in her cheeks and throat. Her pussy spasmed around my cock, which throbbed in frustration. I wanted, needed, to move, to plunge it in and out, to plough her, to press deep inside her and come, pumping myself into her. But this was a moment too beautiful to disturb. She was transfigured. Penny was free.
At the time I remember thinking that I had never seen her like that, but then I realised that wasn’t quite right. She had been as forceful and lustful and uninhibited and demanding once before. The second time we had sex. Well, more accurately, about half an hour after we had full penetrative sex for the first time, when she was at last no longer a virgin, and we had been lying resting and cuddling, she had suddenly leaped on me and ravished me, and rubbed herself against me until she came. It was a moment of rebellion and release and pure passion.
The same thing had just happened. As she knelt above me, my cock hard and held inside her body, her hair wild around her head and her arms falling to her sides, I could see the utter relaxation and contentment in her face. It was something pure. Pure sex. Pure acceptance of her own physicality. It was powerful. It was very sexy.
She began to sway forward and I helped her lie down on me, and held her as she breathed deeply. Then she moved languidly to kiss me, and the kiss became more intense. Fire. Passion. Desire.
Her body began to move. She rocked back against my cock. She clasped her pussy around me. She rubbed her nipples on my chest. Her tongue touched my lips.
I let her pace herself, do whatever she wanted, and simply enjoyed what she did.
On the screen above us a second man had joined the couple. She was riding the first guy and sucking the second, as I glanced up. Penny had been ignoring the film for a while, but raised her head as she rocked back and her gaze was caught. The girl was moving positions, there was a close up of her crotch as she lifted herself off the cock that had been splitting her pussy and rocked forward to position it against her ass hole.
We had watched this tape a few times before, so I knew what was about to happen. The girl wriggled until the tip penetrated her and then, with a huge shrieking groan she dropped herself onto it. The shaft disappeared up into her, and she leaned back with her legs open, her pussy wet and glistening, pulled open by the dark fingers that held her pale thighs wide.
Penny ground down on me as the girl on screen panted and swore. I thought for a moment that she might copy her, pull up and sit down, ass fuck herself on my rod. It had been many months since we had done that last, but knowing that she had been worked up and watching porn before I came home, it was possible that she had already been using her fingers or a dildo, that she may be well lubed up.
Then the other man moved in. He took her as she lay back, his even thicker, longer, blacker shaft spearing her open slit. She groaned again and the two men began a furious bout of hard fucking. The woman urged them on, and groaned and shrieked and thrashed. Penny hammered herself against me, her full breasts swaying and bouncing above me, her chestnut curly bush slamming down to tangle with my own brown curls. The suction of her body on my cock as she pulled up was incredible. She was drawing the come up from my balls, milking me, driving the breath out of me, bringing me closer and closer, no matter how I tried not to come. I wanted her to achieve her climax again, but I could not resist. As I clenched my teeth and buttocks to try to hold in she growled at me “Come on you bastard, Sean, give me your come! Spunk in me! I want to feel it squirt up in me! Come on, fuck it up me! Fuck my cunt you fucker! That’s it, fill me with come! Oh yes, I can feel it! God your come is hot in my cunt!”
She had never talked like that before, never used the ‘C’ word unless ordered to, never called me names. I was shocked, and it was almost a turn off, but her body was writhing and warm and soft, and she carried on riding me, and she had a look of such fierce pleasure that I didn’t get soft. She was beautiful in a way I had never seen, and as she bounced harder and faster on my prick I saw a sheen of sweat film on her body. The sound of our wet flesh slapping against each other added to the moans and grunts she made and my ragged breathing. And then she started chanting canlı poker oyna again, each drop onto my shaft accompanied by a word “Oh! fuck! Yes! fuckme! Fuckme! Fuckme! Hard! Your! Big! Cock! Fuckme! Bigcock! Fuckme! Oh!”
She fell forward, her bottom pistoned up and down, her hands dug into my shoulders to give her leverage, her head thrown back and a stream of gasps and grunts came from her mouth.
I was back to my hardest form by then, and my hands rested on her hips, pushing her down on my cock as my hips rose to meet her.
It wasn’t enough.
With an inarticulate animal noise she pushed up, grabbed my shoulders and dragged me with her, rolling over onto her back, grabbing my cock and dragging it to her opening again, her other hand on my pelvis to pull me down as she thrust her hips up, making me slam full length into her depths.
Both hands now grabbed me and pushed and pulled to force my cock deep inside her, again and again, as she gasped and writhed and bounced on the bed, face almost purple, hair wild about her head. “Oh yes! Fuck me you fucking bastard! Fuck my cunt! Come on you fuck! That’s it, fuck me hard, harder, harder, fuck me, my cunt! Fuck! Fuck! Cunt! Fuck! Fuuuck!”
I felt her clench my cock, her pussy (no, her cunt) tightened about me, and her hips locked, but I was on my way to another orgasm, and my hips wouldn’t stop. That seemed to suit Penny.
Her voice had changed after that cry, and the gargled gasps that followed it. As I went on slamming my body against her she spoke again ” Ohh, yes, yes, keep going, fuckme, fuck me! Oh Christ! Oh! Yes! Oh Jesus! Oh I’m coming again! I’m! Oh! Fuck! Oh you’re fucking me! Fuck me! Fuck my cunt! Fuck my pussy! Oh fuck my ass! Fuck me! Oh I want it! Oh yes! Oh, Sean, come in my cunt, fuck my cunt, oh yes!”
Her body was out of her control. Mine was on automatic. As she subsided into gasps and grunts and a shriek, my consciousness shrank to centre on the tightening, tingling, pulsing sensation in my balls, and the smooth caress of her cunt around my cock tip.
When I came she gripped my back and lifted her legs high, taking me deep, so my balls rested on her ass. I gasped for air as she wrapped her legs around me and fastened her lips on my neck, pulsing her body against me, twitching inside to pull my cock deeper.
The tension flowed out of me, my arms and legs went to rubber, I collapsed on top of her and whimpered. She let me breathe then, for a while, before she lifted my head and kissed me again. It was a slow kiss, deep and soft and loving. Then she pushed my head up and looked in my eyes and said softly “I wish you could stay there forever, but you have to move. I have to close my legs. My hips are killing me.”
I rolled off her and lay panting beside her on my side. Penny moaned as I pulled my half-soft cock out of her still throbbing slit, and groaned again as she closed her knees and stretched her legs out.
I looked at her. The sweat sheen was drying on her face, but her hair was dark with it and stuck to her brow and cheeks. She was smiling faintly. “How you doin’ Lovergirl?”
“Fine. Very fine. You know you are getting very good at that.”
“Thank you.” I said, and smiled “And thank you for letting me do it. I had a very nice time.”
“Nice? Just nice?” she said with mock ire. “You sound like you are thanking an aunt for afternoon tea!”
“No, not just nice. Very nice.” I said, and when she made a disparaging noise I went on “And wonderful, sexy, marvellous, breathtaking, glorious, sensuous, exhausting, and delicious. You look good, taste good, smell good, feel good and sound good, and you are a great, great fuck.”
She blushed. She snuggled beside me saying “You mean that? Even the bit about sounding good?”
“Yes. Naughty, but good.”
She giggled. “It was Tilly’s idea.”
“What?” I said, more startled and forceful than I wished.
“Well, she didn’t suggest it exactly, but it was something she said.”
“What did she say?” I asked in a more normal tone.
“That she had heard us making love but never heard me saying anything like that. She said it was hard to believe that a girl who wasn’t afraid to do all those things was afraid to say the words. She suggested that if I learned to say the words I might feel less restrained. And I could ask you to do things I would like. So I thought about it, and I have been thinking about the words, and it is silly not to say them, isn’t it? They are just words. So I thought I would try saying them all. And you know, it was different. I have been holding back, and embarrassed. But that was good. Although I am a bit embarrassed now…” she trailed off.
I hugged her and told her not to be embarrassed, and we talked about what we liked and what we didn’t and words we could use, and what sounded silly, and what was rude. It was amazing to me to find out how many words she knew. We swapped names for parts (I had never heard of a pussy being called a whiffle before, she laughed when I used the word ‘quim’.)
It internet casino was a weird conversation. We talked more freely about sex than we had ever done, and about things we had done and seen over the last year or so, and eventually about the night at Tara’s when the gang of Rockers had her in the main bedroom.
“You know, Sean, if I had been less prudish about the words I would have used them that night. I would have said the sort of thing I just said to you. I don’t know why, maybe it was the drink, and I had a little puff of someone’s joint as well, but I really wanted to get fucked. Really fucked. Hard and harder and harder again. And when I saw them looking at me, all those guys, they all wanted to fuck me. They were all hard for me. And they wanted to watch me. And if course you were there, watching me, and I love it when I can perform for you. But having all of them looking at me and wanting me..”
She shivered in memory of the powerful emotions. She laughed. “I would have called myself a real slut a couple of years ago. But I didn’t understand what it was like. How good it felt.”
She touched my face and looked me deep in the eyes, and said in a much quieter voice “It wasn’t like making love with you, Sean. That is special, and wonderful. But it was exciting in a way that nothing else ever had been. I know you feel guilty about it. You think I was harmed, that I have become corrupt or weird, or mad because you introduced me to Tara’s games and made me your slave. But it isn’t like that, darling. You haven’t changed me, you just let me be myself. Like saying ‘cunt’ and ‘fuck me harder’ – it doesn’t change the fact that I have a, a vagina, or a pussy, or whatever else, and it doesn’t change the fact that when we make love sometimes I want you to be deep inside me, and to do it quickly and firmly, to, well, to fuck my cunt as hard as you can. That was always true, always what I wanted. I just couldn’t say it. You taking me to play with Mike and Peter and Alan, and anyone else, just allowed me to discover myself. I’m a girl who likes to be watched, and who likes to have two or three cocks at a time. Not all the time, just sometimes. And I like pussy too. I like licking girl’s cunts. So don’t feel guilty. Because I used to feel guilty, but now I don’t, so you shouldn’t either. Okay?”
I was overwhelmed by this speech but said “Yes. Okay. I’ll try not to.”
“Good. Because that means we can go to Tara’s next weekend with Ronnie and Tim, and I can have all three of you at once. And you will fuck my arse. Because I am sure it will be okay because I have been using the big vibrator up it every week for the last three months when I masturbate.”
“Oh don’t look so shocked. You know how much I liked it. I have been keeping it secret because you have some hangup about it, but I don’t want to keep secrets any more. I love you Sean, and I love that you love me and try to look after me. But I can’t stand not having you make love to me in every way, especially because I like it like that. And you do too. Don’t deny it. So listen to me now while I tell you. I think you were right about some things. I think I am screwed up in the head a bit. I’ve talked to Tara about this.”
I must have reacted to that, rolling my eyes, because she poked me in the chest and said “I know she is mad as a hatter but she isn’t always wrong. So just hear me out. I am too subservient. You are right. I let people tell me what to do, including you. And I, I did go too far. Something happened in my head that was all about guilt. I was fucking and sucking and getting buggered by you and all those other guys and doing lezzie things with half a dozen girls. All things that my parents and everyone else had told me never to do. But I loved doing it. So I felt guilty. Really guilty because I really enjoyed it all. I was being so evil and loved being evil. An unrepentant sinner. I couldn’t even say anything in confession about it because I was so ashamed. And then Tara put a collar on me and called me “Girl” and ordered me to suck your cock, and I didn’t feel guilty. I was doing what I was told. I was ordered to make love to you, to fuck with Mike, to put a dildo up my bottom, to lick out Naimh and Lucy. And you ordered me to do things too. And it wasn’t my fault. I had promised to obey you. You were my Master, Tara my Mistress. I had to do what you said. And I felt free. And it felt wonderful. Do you understand that?”
“Yes. I do. It is what I thought was going on.”
“Well, after a while it didn’t work. I still felt guilty. I needed punished. I needed to do more and more weird and terrible stuff because that was punishment for doing the nice stuff. And because if you did bad things to me it showed that I was really not responsible. When you, when I let you, well made you, pee on me, it wasn’t really unpleasant, but it was proof to me that I was not guilty. If I had to let you do that thing to me, which is really quite weird and a bit disgusting, and which to be honest I didn’t really enjoy, well, if I had to let you do that that then I had to let you do anything. So it was okay that I had to let you make love with me, which I do really enjoy. You had to be my Master, I had to obey, so I didn’t feel bad about taking pleasure in sex. But it is different now.”
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