by Ray Gordon
"I only wish I could help," she sighed.
"No one can help me. Only... only Tony. Do you masturbate, Laura?"
Why on earth did I ask her that? I shouldn't have asked her such a personal question. Her dark eyes widened, staring at me, reflecting my image as I sat opposite her. She fiddled with her hair - long, jet-black, shining, alluring... Averting her gaze, she was obviously pondering on my question. I imagined her in the bath, her thighs wide, her fingers between her parted pussy lips, massaging her clitoris - her mouth open, gasping in her coming. I didn't know why I'd imagined that.
"No, I don't," she finally replied, her head low. "I think you should see someone, Helen."
"See someone?"
"Chat to someone about... about your problems."
"A shrink, you mean?"
"Yes, no... You're different, what's happened to you?"
"I seduced a young man on the common. I needed sperm and..."
"You seduced a stranger?"
"I had to. I can't survive without sperm, Laura."
"I don't know what's happened to you, but I don't believe a word of it. Addicted to sperm? Seduced a stranger? You should write fiction rather than paint!"
"Truth is stranger."
She made a feeble excuse and left. I wished I hadn't told her, it was stupid. I felt sadness dripping onto me from a heavy cloud, seeping into me. I could endure sadness, but not panic. Tchaikovsky would comfort me. I busied myself, touching up the painting, the intricate details - sperm trickling from my taut lips as I engulfed the young man's cock-globe.
Not only did I need sperm, but masturbation, I discovered, becoming aware of my wet panties. Climbing the stairs to my bedroom, I wondered what Laura would think of me if she knew about my candle. She'd think me bad. Taking the phallus from its box, I slipped my panties off and lay on the bed, my legs out straight, wide apart. I was bad!
I was about to slip my dildo into my wet pussy when I sensed my nipples become erect, sensitive. Unbuttoning my blouse, I lifted my bra clear of my breasts. They were firm, well-rounded - my nipples standing proud from the dark discs of my areolae. Raising my head, I cupped my breast. I could reach my milk bud with my tongue, I discovered. Sucking my teat hard, the sensations inducing my juices to flow from my sex hole and trickle between my buttocks, I imagined the young man at my breast.
The bedside phone rang as I slipped the huge candle between my swollen labia and drove it deep into my pussy - my cunt. "Cunt," I murmured. A strange word. "Cunt." Cruder and cruder in my masturbating. Ignoring the phone, I slipped the candle out and drove it home again, watching my stomach rise as the phallic piston pumped me up.
With my free hand, I massaged my swollen clitoris, inducing sensations of sex to emanate from my pleasure button. I thought about the young man again as I pistoned and caressed - his penis, his purple globe, spunk gushing from his slit. Spunk. I liked the word, I liked the taste. Pistoning, massaging, wetting, coming... I felt calm, relaxed, masturbating on my bed.
The phone didn't stop, the rhythm of the bell out of time with my candle rhythm, putting me off. I stilled the candle, leaving it embedded deep within my hot cunt. Stretching my outer labia, juicing my hand, I sucked my fingers, tasting my vaginal fluid. Warm, sticky, sexy. My clitoris throbbed beneath my caressing touch, responding, the sensations building, the explosion nearing. The phone stopped and I resumed my phallic pistoning, pumping my cunt up, bringing out my sex milk.
"Fuck!" I gasped, my crudity exciting me, wetting me all the more. "Fucking my cunt with a candle!" Tony had never talked dirty to me during sex. I wondered why. I'd like that, talking dirty, telling me that he was fucking my cunt with his cock. Mouth-fucking me with his knob.
At last, the waves of pleasure rose, welling up and crashing over me, sweeping me away on the crest of sexual ecstasy. "Fuck!" I gasped as I rode my climax. "Fucking my cunt! Candle-fucking my wet cunt!" Shuddering as my orgasm peaked, taking me higher, I tossed my head from side to side, lost in my self-loving, my sexual delirium.
As the sensations waned, I slowed the candle to a gentle, massaging rhythm. Pumping, opening, filling, withdrawing and pumping again. My clitoris pulsating in the aftermath of its coming, sensitive beneath my loving caress, I finally lay still, the candle deep within my sex-wet cunt, my clitoris receding beneath her pink bonnet.
Slipping the candle out of my hot sheath, I sensed my juices pouring from my open hole, trickling between my buttocks. Scooping up my slippery come, I sucked my fingers, savouring my vaginal cream. Scooping, sucking, scooping, sucking, until I was dry - satisfied. Easing my full breasts back into my bra, I climbed off the bed and stood on my sagging legs. Dropping the wet candle into its box, I closed the lid - my secret.
In the garden, the breeze wafted up my skirt, cooling my naked vaginal lips, drying them, caressing. Reclining on the sun lounger, I closed my eyes as the phone rang again. Tony? Maybe, maybe not. It didn't matter; I didn't want to talk, to engage in trivial conversation. I'd masturbate again, later. I'd take my secret candle-penis from its secret box and piston my cunt until I came.
"I've been mouth-fucked by a stranger." The words bubbled from my lips, bubbling my cunt juice, swelling my clitoris. "Adulteress. Prostitute. Whore." I loved masturbating and I again wondered why I'd not thought about it before while Tony was away. I'd masturbate daily with my waxen penis, bring myself off - bring my cunt off. Talk dirty and candle-fuck myself. The sun warmed me, my cunt comforted me - sleep engulfed me.
Chapter Three
The weekend, Sunday morning - quite, peaceful. People attending their churches, seeking redemption from their gods. I was in a state of panic, seeking peace of mind. Sperm, I desperately craved sperm. A penis, big, stiff, hard, spunking - not a candle. A candle for immense sexual pleasure, a penis for survival. Where to find sperm on Sunday morning? In church? Were all priests perverts? I didn't believe the tabloids.
I wandered across the common, half expecting the young man to be there, his balls heavy, full. I felt dreadful, wretched. I noticed a middle-aged man walking across the common wearing tight jeans, bulging jeans. He'd have sperm in his sperm-laden balls, unless his wife had sucked him off, given him head, drained him before he rose from the marital bed - mouth-fucked. He passed by, unaware that I was offering sex.
The sun was hot, too hot - wet, sticky. I lay on the grass, my chest tight with anxiety, my hands shaking, wondering whether another man would pass by, notice me and stop. I wasn't wearing panties, my wet vaginal lips cooling in the morning breeze - swelling. My breasts were free, braless - my nipples erect, alive. God, how I wanted a man sucking my nipples, his hand between my thighs, masturbating me to orgasm. I hadn't masturbated yet; my panic wouldn't allow masturbation, orgasm. I'd candle-fuck my cunt after I'd had my fill of spunk, after I'd been mouth-spermed.
My vocabulary was becoming cruder by the day. I'd painted the word fuck on the white stone wall of my studio in big red letters, although I didn't know why. I'd wanted to paint cunt, but thought better of it. Tony wouldn't understand, I wouldn't understand. It was my studio, my wall, my paint, my cunt - so why not?
Voices neared and I sat up, male voices. Two young men taking long strides across the grass, two shots of sperm. They passed me by without a glance, I didn't exist. My stomach sank as I watched them walk away, become smaller with distance. Their balls would be heavy, swinging - full.
"God!" I gasped as my heart leaped. "God, I need a man!" It was all right for Laura, she had her husband. She'd probably been well spermed, enjoyed a Sunday morning fuck. Her cunt would be brimming, overflowing, bubbling with spunk while mine was empty - thirsty. Images of a stiff penis swirled within my racked mind. Images of a knob throbbing in orgasm, sperming, spunking in my thirsty mouth.
I wandered down the lane towards the house - pining for sperm. Where was Geoff? Why hadn't he been on the common looking for me? Didn't he want to come in my mouth? Perhaps he'd wanked instead, wasted his male cream, the drug I so craved. Was Tony m
asturbating, wasting his sperm? Did he masturbate? I'd asked him when he next phoned. Wanking in his hotel room, sperming, spunking.
"Hallo, Helen." The female voice drifted past me like a leaf on the wind. I stopped, emerging from my dreams, my sperm-dreams.
"Oh, Lydia!" I greeted the girl. Her breasts billowed her tight T-shirt, full, rounded. Had she sucked her nipples? "How are you?"
"I've just had a row with David," she said forlornly. "I've left him by the pond, sulking."
"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that," I replied, my heart leaping as I pictured him by the pond, his penis sperming into my thirsty mouth as I knelt before him, gobbling his knob.
"He found out that I once had a lesbian relationship," she confessed tearfully. "I was trying to explain and..."
"A lesbian relationship?" I interrupted her. I'd thought I'd known her well. Obviously not!
"I didn't know what I was doing, it was a mistake. David won't even listen to me."
"Shall I go and have a word with him?" I asked, the prospect of sperm causing my mouth to water. Lesbian?
"Yes, if you would."
"Leave it to me," I smiled reassuringly. "I'll speak with you later."
She wandered off, her long blonde hair flowing behind her like a curtain of gold silk. My God, a lesbian relationship? I walked to the pond in search of David, in search of sperm. Tony didn't figure so much this time. My adultery was necessary, I couldn't help it, I had no choice. If I were to carry on with my work, pursue my career, then I'd need sperm every other day. It wasn't my doing, I hadn't chosen this path - it was the will of God.
"David!" I called as I passed by the erect penis-like bulrushes and approached him.
"Oh, hi, Helen," he smiled, looking up at me from the patch of grass he was sitting on. "What are you doing here?"
Looking for sperm. "Walking, wandering... I just bumped into Lydia."
"Did you?" he murmured unconcernedly.
"She told me."
"Oh."
"She was experimenting, that was all."
"She's a lesbian, for Christ's sake!"
I sat beside him, my heart pounding hard against my chest at the prospect of drinking from his penis. I sensed danger lurking. I knew him, and Lydia, and they knew Tony. I shouldn't play dangerous games on my own doorstep, but I needed a fix. A stranger would have been better, someone who knew nothing about me. My mouth was dry, my breathing uneasy. I looked at his jeans, his crotch, bulging with his penis - his heavy, sperm-filled balls.
Lydia might come to see how we're getting on, wondering whether I'd repaired their relationship - and catch me with her boyfriend's knob spunking in my sperm-thirsty mouth. But I couldn't help that, it wasn't my problem. Besides, she didn't own David's penis.
Shifting on the soft grass, I sat opposite him, resting my chin on my knees. My feet apart, my delicious vaginal lips were clearly visible, bulging between the tops of my thighs - symmetrical, ovoid. He didn't notice, he was watching a duck on the water - a mallard. I waited in expectation, anticipation - patiently. There was plenty of time, no rush - only blind panic.
I felt dirty, crude, wicked. Prostitute. Adultery. Something possessed me and I imagined David fucking me, cock-fucking my cunt. His solid cock fucking my hot wet cunt - spunking up my tight cunt. Ever cruder in my depravity. Full-blown adultery, I couldn't do it. But I craved sex now, as well as sperm. Adultery, why not? Mouth-fuck, cunt-fuck, there was no difference.
"I feel really horny," I said huskily, the words falling from my wet lips seemingly of their own accord. He turned away from the mallard and looked at me. Lowering his head, his deep-set eyes widened as he focused on my ballooning cunt lips, my pink vulval crack. "I could do with a good fuck, David. How about it?" His jeans bulged as his penis stiffened. I'd done it, uttered my crude words, now it was up to him.
He stared in disbelief at my ballooning sex lips, my sex-wet cunt. It turned me on, his eyes gazing at me there, between my thighs at my vaginal lips. My erect nipples brushed against my blouse, bringing me beautiful sensations as I stretched my legs out and parted them. I wanted his mouth sucking on my milk teats, stiffening them. I'd suck my nipples later as I candle-fucked my juiced cunt.
Tugging my skirt up over the slight rise of my stomach, I looked down at my beautiful cunt. David looked too, probably wondering what had come over me, the respectable married woman from the big house down the lane. Sex had come over me, craving, longing, a desperate thirst for sperm.
I licked my lips provocatively. "Well?" I breathed, parting my legs further, my vaginal slit opening, revealing my inner sex folds - my cunt hole.
"Well!" he gasped. "I... I don't know what to say!"
"Say nothing. I don't want you to use your tongue to speak; I want you to use it to fuck me. Tongue-fuck my cunt."
I lay back on the grass, my femininity blatantly offered to the stunned young man. The danger didn't matter at that moment, all that mattered was... I didn't know what mattered. Tony certainly didn't! Closing my eyes, I suddenly wondered what I was doing, what I was becoming. My desperate quest for sperm had changed me, transformed me from a loving and devoted wife into a... into a prostitute.
I was about to leap to my feet and run away, but I felt warm breath against my sex. Run away? No, I couldn't run away from myself. My clitoris stirred, pulsating as he planted a gentle kiss on my swelling labia. I waited in anticipation for his tongue, his wet, inquisitive tongue to taste me there. I cried as he licked me, cried secretly - the tears running over my temples and into my ears as I looked up at a cloud drifting across the sky. His tongue snaking between my cunt lips, tasting my intimacy, my juices of lust, I again thought of Tony.
Tony would never know, I consoled myself. What he didn't know wouldn't hurt him, but it would hurt me, my aching mind. For the rest of my life, I'd be haunted by my wanton adultery, tortured by images of another man's cock spunking in my mouth, another man's tongue tongue-fucking my cunt.
"You're a dirty little cow," David breathed, parting my pussy lips and licking my wet pink flesh. His uncouth words sent a tingle up my spine, my stomach somersaulted. Tony had never talked dirty. I liked it, the dirty sex, the dirty words - they made me feel dirty. Sex with Tony had been about love, this was about dirt. Cold sex, crude sex, vile and obscene sex. I needed sperm, it was God's will.
"You've a nice cunt," David commented, licking my pulsating clitoris. "A nice wet cunt." His words drifted in the summer air, mingling with birdsong, lapping water - a cunt-lapping tongue. "You taste wonderful. Lydia doesn't like me licking her cunt out." Lydia, poor Lydia. She'd trusted me, and I'd betrayed her. I'd betrayed Tony. "Christ, Helen, you're bloody wet!"
The unfamiliar tongue repeatedly swept over my clitoris, stiffening my sex nodule, taking me closer to my adulterous orgasm. I wanted to come, to feel the sensations of sex well from my contracting womb and bathe my trembling body. Desperate now, I needed his sperm. "Faster!" I ordered him in my urgency. "Bring me off, quickly!"
He finger-fucked my cunt as he sucked and licked my clitoris. My body jolted with the vaginal thrusting, the in-driving, the cunt pumping. My stomach rose and fell with his pistoning, my breasts heaved, my cunt ached. This was sex as I'd never known it, filthy sex, debased sex. I felt shame and guilt; I felt elation as my climax came and gripped me, shaking me violently.
"God, my cunt!" The unfamiliar words left my lips and flew up into the trees. "I'm coming! Ah, my wet cunt!" He expertly took me to one of the best orgasms I'd ever experienced. His vile words, his fanny-fingering, his clit-licking, took me ever-higher to my sexual heaven - ever deeper to my sexual depravity.
Before I'd drifted down from my climax, he was on top of me, his knob stabbing between my vaginal lips, trying to gain entry to my inner sanctum. It was Tony's vagina. Only Tony was allowed there and I tried to raise myself on my elbows to halt the imminent adultery. Suddenly, he drove into me, deep into my cunt. Gasping, he began his fervent fucking, jolting me, fucking my cunt - Tony's cunt.
> "Tony," I whimpered as David ripped the front of my blouse open and sank his teeth into my nipple. Pinning me down, he continued his fucking, his nipple biting. Gasping, the sensations of debased sex wetting my stretched vagina, I came. Crying, whimpering, I'd never known sex like this, cold sex, sex for the sake of sex. My aching cunt tightening, my clitoris pulsated in orgasm against his thrusting shaft as he fucked me.
"My mouth!" I cried as I sensed his body become rigid. "Spunk in my mouth!" He slipped his cock out of my cunt and quickly moved beside me, his huge wet glands hovering close to my face, a globule of sperm already dribbling from his slit. Resting on my elbow, I grabbed his cock, taking his cunny-wet knob into my thirsty mouth as the first jet of spunk shot from his slit.
Sucking, licking, mouthing, I brought out his seed, savouring the heady drug before swallowing hard. His fingers between my burning pussy lips, he massaged my clitoris, taking me to another mind-blowing climax as I drank from his orgasming glans. In my gasping, I inadvertently allowed a trickle sperm to run down his wet shaft and over his balls. I mustn't waste a drop! I thought fearfully, slipping his spent cock out of my mouth and lapping at his heavy balls. Licking his shaft as he slowed his clitoral massaging, I swallowed the last of his nectar, satisfying my desperate craving before collapsing on the soft grass in a quivering heap.
I was done, fucked and spunked in my adultery. My nipples sore, my cunt dripping, my mouth salty, I closed my eyes and waited for the calm to bathe me, the peace to wash over me. Sperm, diazepam, tranquillity. I wasn't listening to David's words of appreciation as he tugged his zip up, I was revelling in the glory of my sperm-filled body.
I didn't hear my partner in adultery leave, creep away from the scene of illicit sex. I lay there for hours beneath the burning sun, basking in the serenity drifting through my glowing body. Calm reigned, peace ruled. Finally clambering to my feet, I made my way home, my cunt drenched, my nipples sore - my mind placid, tranquil.