by Violet Blue
Steevi didn’t even know they were “cops.” But I did, and it made my cock throb even harder than before. In the graypink light of the infrared I could see when she stretched her head back to massage her sore jaw that her eyes were closed.
One cop unzipped and put his hard cock through the vacant glory hole. The other two grabbed the hole and punched it, cracking it wider until it was oblong enough to fit them both at once. Steevi faced four cocks.
She took one cock in each hand and started sucking the first cop’s. He groaned as her lips eagerly worked up and down on his shaft.
It was only a minute before he came. Steevi missed some of his come, dribbling it down her chin and onto her breasts, soaking the thin minidress she wore. She kept reaching behind her to stroke one cop’s dick and turned her attention to the oblong glory hole that offered two.
She went from one cock to the other. One cop reached through the hole and grabbed her hair, guiding his cock into her mouth at the same time as his friend’s. The two of them fucked Steevi’s face at the same time as her hand twisted behind her to keep their fellow cop hard and ready for her.
Both cops shot at once, filling her mouth with their semen as she groaned and gurgled deep in her throat. Semen ran down her chin and soaked her dress. Her hair was matted with it.
She licked them clean; they pulled out, zipped up, and went to wait in their “cruiser.”
Steevi turned to take care of the last cop. Her head bobbed up and down on him, and he reached through the glory hole to hold her face so he could face-fuck her better. Steevi moaned as he pumped her. It wasn’t long before he came in her mouth and she swallowed.
The cop buckled his belt, zipped his pants, and left.
The two cruisers pulled out of the parking lot; no other cars showed up. The cop cars had probably scared them away.
Steevi stayed on her knees, her face against the glory hole, dripping come. I left the laptop on the seat, locked the car, and went inside.
I had to break the latch to force the stall door, but I moved fast enough that I don’t think Steevi was sure it was me. I pushed her over the toilet and she leaned hard on the pipes as I pulled up her short dress and forced her legs open. She lifted her ass in the air as I pulled my rock-hard dick out and shoved it into her.
She was gushing. Juice ran down her legs as I entered her.
I started fucking her, pushing down on her ass to keep her low so I could hit her G-spot just right. I knew how to make her come, and I knew any residual doubts about whether she wanted this would be shattered in her own mind by the explosion of an orgasm. I pushed one hand into her mouth, smearing the streams of semen all over her lips, and grabbed her hair with the other, pulling her head back so she had to lean hard against me as I pounded into her.
She let out a great gasping moan and I felt her cunt contracting around my shaft. She was coming, and she didn’t even try to hide it. She let out great sobs of release as I fucked her, and I knew that now was the time to drive my dominance home.
I pulled out of her cunt and yanked her skirt up higher, moving my cockhead between her cheeks.
“No,” she gasped. “N—no—no!” But she didn’t call out her safeword, didn’t do the one thing she knew, beyond a doubt, would put an end to the scene.
I drove into her hard in one thrust, taking her ass and making her squeal with surprise. I pushed her hard against the toilet pipes, listening to her sob and shudder as I fucked her dry hole.
“Rub your clit,” I growled.
“N—no!” she gasped. “P—please!”
“Rub it!”
She reached between her legs so quickly I knew her protest had just been a resistance to the ultimate humiliation of coming a second time. She began to rub her clit eagerly as I fucked her ass, my hand in the small of her back keeping her steady as I pounded into her. I was fighting not to shoot my load; her incredibly tight ass always made me come so quickly. But I managed to hold off as I took her anally, making her rub herself to the second orgasm I knew she so badly wanted.
“Oh, god,” she sobbed. “Don’t make me—oh!”
Then she came, and the spasms of her asshole around my cock were even stronger than those of her first orgasm. She kept rubbing violently, bringing herself off until I wasn’t sure if she’d come twice more or three times more, one after the other as she did sometimes when she was really, really turned on. It was all I needed to let myself go, pounding my cock into her ass and erupting in a flood of semen deep inside her. I groaned, letting her know that I was going off inside her, and as I did she pushed her ass back against me, demanding my load, and I knew she felt the flood of hot liquid as I injected her with my come.
“Th—thank you,” she whimpered. “Thank you….”
I pulled out, tucked my cock away just like the others. Zipped up and turned to leave the bathroom.
I was already in the car before Steevi followed me, tottering on unsteady legs. Her dress was torn, the neckline opened so I could see one pink nipple hanging out as her white skin shone in the headlights. She swayed on her high heels and came to the side of the car, leaning up against the window, panting.
I reached over and unlocked the door. She stumbled as she pulled it open, leaning hard on the door and tumbling into the seat. I barely got the laptop out of the way.
She curled up in the passenger seat, her face dripping semen, her eyes wide and glazed.
“Thank you,” she whimpered. “Thank you.”
I started the car, put it in reverse, and pulled out of the parking lot.
On the long drive home, Steevi dropped off to sleep, her tit still hanging out, her dress still pulled up and semen running down the backs of her thighs. I pulled over to the side of the road and repositioned her so I could put on her seat belt.
I looked into her sleeping face, slick with other men’s come, her hair matted with it.
It had been hard for me. For every aspect of it that had turned me on, there had been jealousy, rage, confusion. But when it came right down to it, I loved her. And she had begged me, in page after page of her diary, detailing this, her fondest fantasy for more years than she could count.
The diary she had pleaded with me to read, whispering to me that I had permission to do anything—anything—she’d written about in it. How could I let her down?
Steevi began to snore softly, delicately, as I pulled back onto the interstate and headed for home.
Daddy’s Boy
ELIZABETH COLVIN
“Come on, boy. Come over here and tell Daddy how much you appreciate his hospitality.”
I take the cigar out of my mouth and smile at him.
Lounging in the armchair, I reach down and unzip my leather pants. I pull out my cock and start stroking it. My boy looks at the big, thick shaft of my cock and licks his lips.
Then he goes down on his knees and plants his mouth on the head of my cock. He takes my shaft into his mouth until the head nudges the top of his throat. Then, without hesitating, he swallows, forcing the shaft down his throat without even a hint of a gag reflex. That sends a shudder through my body; I can feel my pussy aching. He starts working on my cock, sucking it like an expert.
I don’t look much like any daddy I’ve ever known. The tight leather pants, big black boots, and Harley Davidson T-shirt could belong to a daddy, sure. But there’s no disguising my broad hips or the way the pants hang so low on them, revealing my flowery tattoos and my navel ring. And I haven’t strapped down my tits, which are big enough to stretch the T-shirt and, even with a sports bra underneath, show my nipples as they get hard in response to the sight and feel of my boy’s mouth on my cock.
But it doesn’t matter, because I’m a daddy; I’ve got the big, thick cock to prove it. Silicone, yes; maybe not as sensitive as a real daddy’s cock. With this daddy’s cock, it’s not just a matter of licking and sucking around the head or teasing the underside of the shaft. Sucking this cock is a lot more work. My boy has to push and work his head arou
nd and suck my cock harder, pushing the base of the dildo against my clit to make my pussy throb in response. But I don’t care and my boy doesn’t care, either, because my boy knows I’m his daddy. I’ve got the cock to prove it—and the armchair.
And a boy is exactly what he is, tonight. Torn jeans, so faded they’re almost white, hug his lithe body, showing off the big bulge in his pants, swept to the right and getting bigger as he sucks me. His tight white T-shirt, so tight it’s almost see-through, shows off his perfect chest. He looks like some boy hustler I picked up on the street, offered a place to stay in return for a blow job. The big white athletic shoes are a decidedly adolescent touch.
The whole package makes my pussy so wet I can hardly stand it.
And when he looks up at me with his mouth around my cock, there’s no question that this is my boy, servicing me.
“Come on, boy, suck it better than that. Earn your keep.”
He launches more eagerly into it, his mouth pumping up and down on my cock and forcing it deeper into his throat. He’s obviously a skilled cocksucker; he doesn’t even hesitate when the head of my cock presses against his throat. He just swallows, knowing that’s what I want. I want to feel him take it all the way, feeling it in his belly, just like he will when I put it up his ass.
His eyes turn back up to me and I grin down at him, flicking ash off the end of the cigar. “I think it’s time you sucked a little ass, boy.”
I pull him off of my cock and turn around on the armchair, pulling my leather pants down over my hips. When I’ve got them down around my knees, I bend over, pushing my ass out for him. He leans in and obediently presses his face between my cheeks, his tongue sliding into my ass. I have to stifle a gasp that I know will sound way too feminine, and I barely manage to replace it with a manly grunt as I reach back behind me to grab his hair and push his face more firmly into my ass. His tongue works its way deeper into my asshole. He alternates between teasing the entrance with big long swirls of his tongue and pushing hard into it like he’s fucking me with that limber little organ. I want to reach down and rub my clit; I want to come so bad it’s driving me crazy. But instead of rubbing my clit I reach down and begin to jerk off, stroking my cock, pumping it hard up and down, and that only makes me want to come even more. When I push the dildo down I can feel the base against my clit, almost direct enough to make me come, but not quite. God, I want to fuck him so bad.
I’m so turned on I can hardly speak. But I manage it, barely, working hard to maintain a gruff rumble in my voice instead of a girly squeak. I turn my head and look down at him over my shoulder. He’s beautiful, his mouth planted between my cheeks, licking me. His eyes are turned up toward me, and I look into them as I growl at him.
“You take it up the ass, boy?”
His mouth comes away from my ass and he says, “If I have to, Daddy.”
“You have to, boy,” I tell him.
He moves back and I get off the armchair, still stroking my cock. I watch as he shucks his white T-shirt, showing off his beautiful chest. I run my hand down it, working my cock faster. He unzips his jeans and peels them off, kicking his way out of his white athletic shoes. He’s not wearing socks. I look at his gorgeous cock, standing there hard, the tip glistening.
“You can suck it if you want,” he says weakly, not meeting my eyes.
I grab his hair and pull his face close to mine.
“No kissing,” he says, sounding petulant and whiny. “I don’t do that. I’m not a faggot.”
The sound of that helpless plea sends a new surge of arousal through my pussy and into my cock. I’ve got him right where I want him.
Ignoring his protest, I press my lips to his and thrust my tongue into his mouth. He lets me for a moment, then begins to respond with his own tongue against mine. I kiss him deeper, then spin him around and shove him against the armchair. He climbs onto it, knees pressed to the thick, padded arms, legs spread, ass in the air. He reaches back and parts his cheeks as I grab the bottle of lube on the end table.
I pour lube between his cheeks and work two fingers into his ass—not even bothering to start with one. He gasps as I penetrate him, and I reach between his legs to feel his cock pulsing with excitement.
“You like that, boy? You like taking it up the ass?”
“If I have to, Daddy,” he says nervously.
“You have to, boy,” I tell him. “You have to like it. And I know you’re going to.”
I add some lube to the head of my cock and push his back down till he’s crouched down low and his ass is in the right position. I nuzzle the head of my cock against his tight entrance. His ass opens right up as I thrust into it; he lets out a shuddering gasp as I drive it in to the hilt.
I start to fuck him; for some reason, this position pushes the base of the dildo against my clit at just the right angle. Or maybe fucking my boy in the ass just turns me on more than anything. I reach up and grab his hair, listening to him moan as I shove my cock roughly into his ass, each thrust harder, building up speed.
His hand is underneath him, pumping his cock. His hips start to work, pushing him onto my cock. It’s like he’s trying to get it over with at first—then, as his hand quickens on his cock, like he wants it. He shoves hard onto me, his ass opening wider as it engulfs my cock. I pull his hair, making him squeal. At one point I reach down and spank his ass, which makes him fuck back onto me with even more urgency.
I don’t even feel it coming, really. I’ve been working the dildo into him, pressing the base against my clit for so long that when I finally reach the breaking point I barely know it. It happens when he lets out a little whimper and I feel his body shaking—he’s coming, shooting his load all over Daddy’s armchair. I start to fuck him harder, faster, as his lips go slack and he leans hard against the back of the chair. I pound into him and that drives me over the top, my own orgasm sending my pussy and clit into tight spasms, my ass tightening as I feel the cooling moisture of my boy’s spittle where he tongued me. I collapse on top of him and the chair groans under our combined weight as my body surges with pleasure, my high-pitched moans as feminine as it gets—but my boy doesn’t seem to care.
He reaches back and strokes my hand where it still grips his hair. “Did my tight ass get you off real good, Daddy?”
“You have no idea,” I said, still panting hard.
“Oh, I think I have some idea,” he smiled, and squirmed around under me to hold me in his arms. He began to stroke my long hair gently and whispered, “Thank you, Daddy. Thanks for fucking me so good.”
I curled up in my boy’s embrace, sighing contentedly.
Medical Attention
SKYE BLACK
I woke up spread-eagled, stretched, helpless. I tried to move and nothing happened. As my vision cleared, I saw myself in the monitor facing the bed. I stared, disbelieving. My arms and legs were in full-length casts, toes to crotch, fingers to shoulders, all four limbs suspended with bolts through the sides of the casts, heavy traction weights holding me immobile. I had been forced into a giant X on the hospital bed, both my arms and legs cocked just slightly at a wide angle. My head was shaved and wrapped in thick white gauze and, under it, there was a white plastic brace that attached to shiny metal prongs inserted into the corners of my mouth. My belly was circled by a thick off-white plastic brace with shiny aluminum struts attaching to both my leg and arm casts. The brace went from my hips, just above my crotch, to my chest just beneath my breasts.
And there was nothing covering those parts of me. Not even a sheet. My breasts were bare, exposed on the big monitor facing me. My crotch, also bare, had been shaved smooth, even the tiny dusting of pubic hair I usually wear having been denied me.
The traction spread my legs very wide.
I saw the winking red eye of the surveillance camera, the camera providing me the perfect view of myself. The monitor alternated between a full-body view of me, spread-eagled and immobilized, a close-up of my bare pussy, a close-up of my tits, and a close-
up of my distressed, gauze-shrouded face.
I had been painted with makeup. Far from the deathly pallor that should haunt an accident victim, I had been given rosy cheeks with blush, thick eyelashes with mascara, bright blue eyelids with eye shadow. And, most arresting of all, I had been given full, accentuated lips with an intensely red shade of lipstick.
The monitor showed me my whore’s painted face, then my breasts, then my pussy, up close. Then it showed all of me again, all of me, helpless and stock-still spread-eagled in the hospital bed.
The hospital door opened. A nurse in a starched white uniform came in. But the uniform dress was just a little too short, too tight on her rounded hips, the top cut just a little too close on her full breasts. Her white lace bra was visible under the low-cut top, which had a button or two undone. She was wearing makeup, too—lots of it.
“I see our patient’s awake,” she said. “How are you feeling, Mrs. Rubin?”
I murmured a wordless groan.
The nurse tsked. “Poor girl, doesn’t remember a thing. Well, I’ll let the doctor answer all your questions. He’ll be here in a moment; I’ve got to get you ready for him, or there’ll be hell to pay. He can be so demanding. I would hate to get in trouble with him. Now, be a good girl and take your medication, won’t you?”
The nurse produced a small paper cup of pills. “Do you have to use the restroom?” she asked.
I nodded, and she sighed. “All right, well, let’s do that first,” she said. She took a plastic urinal from a nearby table, positioned herself between my spread legs, and tucked it just under my crotch.
But before she pressed it there, she took a moment to slide her fingers up the inside of my shaved pussy. It felt exquisitely sensitive, almost painfully so. She teased my lips apart, perhaps under the pretext of making sure I wouldn’t dribble. Whatever it was, I didn’t ask her, because the touch sent shivers through my immobilized body.