What You Wish For

tagGroup SexWhat You Wish For

15 Spill the Lust
What you wish for
20th October, 1979 Sweetest Day
"Let each acolyte spill their lust deep without constraint in my body," I whisper poetically to Charles. I am needy for more having failed to get over the edge on my husband's first try to please me in seven weeks.
Charles and I experienced a falling-out following the start of the school year at the university on Elmwood. My early afternoon English Lit class ran long and the dinner Charles prepared for he and I came out of the oven overdone. I have no problem handling Charles' cold shoulder. After seven anniversaries I find I have no love for the man.
I find Ben Wa balls and an unbalanced load in the washing machine more than a match for most of the men I've had in my thirty-two years on this earth. Most of them are gone and forgotten. My only regret is having lost contact with my cousin, Bobby Malick way too soon.
Bobby taught me how to kiss like a woman when we ventured out to the back forty of his dad's farm during a week-long stay in Sandusky the summer I turned twelve. As the months fell from the pages of the calendar I sought out his teachings with each stay at the farm.
With his help I discovered a liking for the bisexual after he introduced Jessica Barrett. On the day of discovery the three of us were chasing platter-sized bluegills in the second pond south from the milking barn. Boxer, the cow-herder collie followed after us everywhere we went. After two hours basking in the sun the heat got the better of us.
Jessica was the first to slip the cover of modesty. She went native without any hesitation. She has a good set of lungs as promised from behind the minimal modesty of a sweat-wet tee shirt an hour earlier. Her nipples are surrounded by brown areola the size of which one might refer to as humongous. She has what Aunt Emily calls 'mother's hips'. A tangle of thick brown hair is centered between her flared hip points. The mop conceals what lie behind.
Jessica was the first to take naked to the cool water of the spring fed pond; a perfectly executed dive from the end of the rickety boat dock.
Bobby followed before I had a moment to mishandle his thickly veined cock. I had laid hands on that beautiful appendage on several occasions but at that moment I had every intention of taking his cock into my mouth to sample his come.
I followed the couple after some in-depth coaxing.
My motives were completely heterosexual at the start of our afternoon swim.
Almost…
I had no desire to suck those big beautiful nipples.
I had no interest in delving into the mysteries hidden behind the brown pelt below her navel.
We swung from the rope swing and swum until fingers and toes pruned.
We three lay in the grass drip-drying. Bobby spotted one of the poles ticking violently and rose up.
While Bobby added another bluegill to the bucket, Jessica asked, "Can I touch you?"
I was too stunned to answer but felt fortunate when Jessica ignored the fright on my face and crabbed across the grass. Jessica put her fingers to good use by the time Bobby was back in the tall grass. She began at my chest fiddling with my nipples with a gentle pinch that took me close and had me dripping piss while Bobby watched.
That sunny afternoon I learned I am rather rambunctious when the mood strikes at the right time. I howled like a coyote in heat while Jessica and Bobby shared my tiny tits with shallow bites that barely left a mark.
Jessica fiddled her fingers in the flow that followed my explosive release. My piss was hot on her fingers as she attempted an entry lower. She looked up surprised. "You're a virgin, Lauren?"
"But…" was the extent of my answer to Jessica's question.
"She's a virgin," she added with her eyes on Bobby.
I remember that Bobby just shrugged his board shoulders and smiled. His broad shoulders…his hard belly…his stiff cock twitching.
"Take me, Bobby. Fuck me," came from my mouth before I realized. My demand came from my groin. I felt my face blush my embarrassment.
Jessica and I stared at Bobby and he understood what was being asked of him.
"I couldn't," Bobby said thoughtfully, after all I was of his blood and Jessica his lover.
Almost simultaneously Jessica and I decided he could, he should and with the sun in my eyes he did. It was just a pinch. Nothing like mom had warned. Bobby looked down on my smile as I experienced a piss-free orgasm.
We three tasted away the afternoon; balls and cunts and tits and Bobby's cock, all of which we three shared equally. I enjoy their bodies and they mine.
Thankfully nothing other than orgasm came of it and the many more times Bobby did me good that summer.
Our final summer together I discovered the pleasures pain can bring to one's body and mind. Both giving and receiving. That was the summer before Bobby enlisted and died overseas.
The milking barn was a good distance from the farm house. It was far enough that our screams were never heard by my uncle or my aunt. With sturdy leather Bobby had me harness him in an empty stall after he stripped. Picture his arms and legs spread eagled but standing upright rather than on his back.
"Swing the belt up between my legs, Lauren," Bobby said. His body tightened visibly as he waited.
I reminded him, "This is going to hurt."
"That's the purpose, Lauren," he said.
He knew as did I. By the tenth swipe he was cursing me. His cursing was so vile I began to swing faster still.
"…why because I fucked away the sanctity of your pussy?" he asked.
I didn't answer just doubled up quick one after the next.
"…because I didn't fuck you sooner?"
Again I replied in kind but quit short of my want when Bobby went limp and hung by his arms from the harnesses.
That Tuesday night Bobby sneaked into the first floor bedroom designated 'mine' during my stays in Sandusky.
"I think we should try to see if the equipment is in good working order," Bobby said. He tickled my clit and sucked a teat in preparation for the examination. The bulb of his cock gleamed in the moon light. I wanted to suck it and take his come in my mouth but Bobby held me back.
In the dim light streaming in I watched him remove his briefs and roll the drug store condom onto his cock. This was the only time he thought to protect.
"There's a cup of come waiting to be released. You have been on my mind…and that afternoon session… There's just too much in here to take a chance." He held up that beautiful cock for me to see.
Just the memory of the afternoon romp in to S&M was sufficient to ready me for that cock of his.
"When is it my time to receive, Bobby?"
"Tomorrow," he answered.
He lifted my up off of the bed to keep my piss on the hardwood if all went well. He wanted the sheets on the bed clean and dry.
"Dad and mom are going to the action in Springville. I'll have all day to punish you."
I wanted to question what Bobby had in mind but Bobby had fucking on his mind. He gumbied my legs high and wide and made a quick push into my cunt. He was long in coming and I was rubbed raw before he and I climaxed.
After a hearty breakfast Aunt Anne and I cleaned up before they left for the auction in Springville. Half an hour later Bobby and I walked into the milking barn. I got out of my halter dress and turned on Bobby. Bobby smiled.
"Now what?" I asked nervously.
Bobby smiled and took me to the same stall where I had beaten his privates two days ago.
"Turn away, Lauren," Bobby said. I looked to the back of the stall. He tied one of my arms to the planking at side of the stall with one of the jesses that were draped over the gate of the stall. Satisfied with his knot-work he turned his attention of my right arm. He pulled tight and tied off the leather on my right arm. He did the same with my legs and I was somewhere between dangling and standing once all the leather was tightened.
"Do you want a safe word, Lauren," Bobby asked.
I looked over my shoulder puzzled and asked, "What?"
"Something to say once you've had enough," he said
"I'm not looking for a way out, Bobby. I want you to hurt me like I hurt you,"
"All right," Bobby said. He followed up with a quick lash that caught me unprepared. The quirt Bobby used was equipped with a loop at one end and three pliable falls that followed the curve of the terrain as they rose up between my legs. With my labia slightly parted by the pull of the jesses looped around my ankles the falls hit perfectly centered. I screamed out the terror but refused to ask for his forgiveness. By the third strike my clit throbbed and the piss rained. By the tenth I no longer felt a thing between my legs,
Bobby continued until I lost consciousness.
I woke when Boxer sniffed at my ass and licked at the remains of an uncounted number of orgasms from my labia. I was on my belly in the stall with the jesses undone. My labia and clit were on fire and I couldn't move as I struggle with the pain.
Bobby was back in time to keep Boxer from getting lucky for I lacked the strength to fight the collie off as his pointed pink prick prodded and poked in search of an opening to penetrate.
"I thought Boxer was going to fuck me," I said. With Bobby's hand in mine I twisted myself upright and accepted the cold bottle of Stella Bobby handed over. I pressed the icy cold bottle to my sex to put out the fire before I took a swallow.
"Would you like him to?" Bobby asked.
I refused to answer but the idea lingered for years afterwards until…
My return home to the boredom of summer without Bobby was supposed to be that Friday. But with two cows ready to give birth, Uncle John couldn't risk the hour long drive into the city. Aunt Emily and Mom spoke by phone and Mom agreed to a two day extension. That extension allowed Bobby and me another pain filled afternoon.
On Friday at mid-morning with one newborn calf standing Bobby and I headed south on the dirt road that trails through the pastures to the two farm ponds. Boxer followed. Bobby carried the essentials in a bucket that included fishing rods, bait and a coil of bailing twine. He took me off the beaten path to an old growth hardwood forest, a fifteen minute trek beyond the milking barn. Boxer followed.
We stopped some distance into the over growth to a small clearing Bobby had prepared that morning while I attended to a birthing.
"Take off your dress, Lauren," Bobby asked. Boxer was at his side panting.
I did not ask 'why' and I did not refused for there was fire in his eyes and a swollen cock twitching in his overalls. I wanted that cock twitching in my cunt.
"No underwear?" Bobby questioned the lack once the dress fell away.
"My cunt is still puffy from the beating. The underwear rubs and makes the hurt worse," I answered.
Bobby walked me over to the oak at the center of the clearing and stood me up on a length of a rough cut four-by-four. He tossed the coil of twine over a low limb and wrapped my right wrist with the twine. He pulled the tag end and my arm followed. He raised my left arm and secured my wrist with the end of the twine.
While Bobby trimmed a supple branch down to a proper switch, Boxer went up on his hind legs behind me. It was impossible and I let Bobby know, "I'd have to be on my knees, Bobby."
Bobby said nothing. He simply smiled. He pushed Boxer aside and removed the length of the four-by-four from under my feet. The tension brought my body firmly to the trunk of the oak.
I heard the swish as the switch Bobby swung cut through the air. The sting on my bare bottom caught me unprepared. The pain registered an instant after I heard the swish. The pain brought a tear that rolled over my left cheek. A succession of tears fell as Bobby marked my ass with more than a dozen welts. I was still a ways from fulfillment. I rubbed my nipples against the rough trunk of the oak as I tried to help myself along. Still a ways…so I pulled my feet up and wrapped my legs around the tree trunk. My wrists were bruised raw as I hung and wriggled in search of the satisfaction I desired.
Bobby continued but misaligned as we were the switch struck the small of my back. The next struck my back just below my shoulders; from there over the whole of my back. I said nothing. I simply enjoyed the beat-down that I considered foreplay, a means to an end.
I knotted my ankles and brought my privates to the trunk. The electric shot through me a blinding flash with the first cunt-to-trunk contact. The spasm was continuous, everlasting it seemed as I scoured my cunt against the trunk of the oak and the fire in me threatened immolation. With the pain radiating from my core to my extremities I suffered the most glorious orgasm ever. That orgasm remains the benchmark by which I judge all that came before, all that follow.
I never shared my summer-time adventurers with anyone. After Bobby was killed in Cambodia only Jessica and I knew the truth. Unfortunately I had no idea how to contact Jessica, that she and I might revisit our summer romp in the long grass.
And now as I return to the present after replaying the melodrama of yesteryears, after a bit of story-telling my husband mounts me for a second time since nine that evening with a cock firm and able to penetrate the slippery pink lips of my cunt.
My choice of words offends on occasion. I've been told I'm too bold with word and action. I respond much like a man might without thought as to the consequences. That's too bad for those offended. No matter how one chooses to identify the portal, in the end it's a cunt meant to accept whatever implement I allow him or she to use as a means to please me. I have come to the conclusion my joy the goal during these interludes from the everyday hum drum that we are forced to accept as proper. I have no intention to change any time soon.
But back to reality…
"Just once, Lauren?" Charles asks. He continues to ram his cock into my body. It's apparent my admission has aroused Charles. I realize that admission to give of myself has had a similar effect on me; I am breathless as a blinding orgasm storms out of the blackness.
"Until I say otherwise, honey," I answer after the piss comes and wets Charles and me.
The piss is the indicator to Charles he has done his duty as husband. Eleven more strokes and Charles dribbles his semen in the vestibule as his cock shrinks its way out of my body.
"Will that add to your enjoyment, Lauren, letting other men come in your cunt?" he asks as his semen runs down onto my anus.
It's a shame that there's no one here to take advantage of the lubricating quality of Charles' semen. There is no way his wiggly is up to the task; not in my ass anyway.
I give my response a moment to ferment before I answer, "Yes, Charles. It will. The thought of a man losing control and spewing his seed is sufficient to wet me ready. But remember I'll want for more than one. I want to be used and lose all control of my body."
And again my words lift his spirit and harden his desire, a desire he and I put to good use once more before I take refuge in my nightmares brewing where all perversions are possible.
Later that warm night Charles places calls to make fast the arrangements before I misplace that particular want we've fantasized about.
"I realize its short notice but if you can make it Monday…, say seven-thirty…"
I hear him recite the offer over and again before I drift off for the night.
22nd October, 1979, Monday
By seven that Monday evening I come to the realization Charles is going to respond in spades to the proposal mentioned in passing when I in a weaken state whispered, "Yes," two days since.
Sooner than later I worry the thought. Again I tell my conscience this is something I want to do with Charles' help. I've been involved in group in the past but never with Charles' involvement.
Almost too soon I reason. For the mention was originally meant to be verbal foreplay meant to arouse his waning arousal.
Charles returns home from a trip to the market while I shower. With wet hair hanging to the small of my back I step into the family room. I see the tethers and collars and the blindfold and tube of lube on the marble topped cocktail table.
"Don't presume I'm agreeable so soon," I offer when Charles follows after me. My snappy comment leaves my husband wondering if he had misconstrued my request. I see the confusion on his face.
"With the proper progression I can be had, Charles," I hurry into the word flow lest he misunderstand.
"Ask me before you gag me…" I say.
Charles stares as the tie at my waist falls.
"Ask me before you tie me down…" I say.
Charles stares as my robe opens.
"Ask me before the others arrive and use me to their heart's content…" I say.
After a disturbing moment Charles understands.
"We're good?" he asks.
"Yes, Charles. We're good," comes my answer.
"I'd like you to take off your robe," Charles says. He nudges the thermostat three degrees cooler and returned to the center of the family room. I stand patiently naked. He takes note of the baby bump six weeks in the making but says nothing. He pulls a highlighter from out of the back pocket of his jeans and removes the cap.
"What are you doing?" I question.
"I'm going to gag you as you asked. You won't be able to ask or refuse so I'll pen your request on your belly."
I turn my hips in his direction and take step near. He takes my actions to be an indication I am agreeable to his suggestion. In big blue block letters he prints 'FUCK ME HARD' on my stomach. A blue arrow points the way.
"You know you don't have to gag me, Charles. I won't say a word, I swear… They can put their cocks in my mouth… I can suck their balls until they cry out in pain and there are tears welling in their eyes. I know I will enjoy if you allow me that pleasure. If you like they can come in my mouth and I'll swallow every drop…"
The idea appeals to Charles. He places the ball gag on the shelf beneath the marble top of the cocktail table.
"Lie on the table, Lauran."
I do as asked. The stone top is icy cold on my back. There was a look in his blue eyes. Worry, I reason. He's never, at least not with me as the center of their world. I want to know more but a big part of the allure is surprise and not knowing so I am silent as he prepares me for the evening festivities. I'm sure he feels the shudder as he circles my neck with the sturdiest of the collars. A short leather leash hangs from one of the D rings on the collar. Charles secures my ankles and wrists to each of the four sturdy table legs. The table is short by several inches. At one end with my knees upright and my feet flat to the cool marble my long toes curl over the edge of the marble. At the other end of the table my black hair hangs down wet and straight to the oriental carpet. My teats are hard pink pebbles by then. My excitement is palpable. I struggle not to come for I will piss myself. I have no choice but to ask Charles' help; "Put a towel under my ass. I think I'll piss myself before too long."
In the past my piss has provided a stimulus especially when he was on the receiving end of the scented yellow stream.
From my prospective the bondage is all the foreplay needed. I know if Charles fucked me I'd come. But we're so close. I ready myself for whatever her husband has in mind. The dew trails over my perineum down to my tightly clenched anus. Charles raises my head up from the table top. He smoothes my wet hair and places the black leather blindfold over my eyes. He lowers my head to the table top just as the door chimes sound. My skin prickles and goes all goose flesh.
This is going to happen; he's serious I reason with a smirk on her mouth. A shudder more violent than the first follows that realization.

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