Addicted

by Ray Gordon

  I hadn't seen what he'd had in his hand, but it penetrated my anal canal, stretching my sperm-drenched duct wide open. Gasping as my holes expanded, I imagined that whatever it was deep inside my bottom-hole was twice the size of his penis. I couldn't endure much more of this perverse filth, it wasn't me. Was it?

  Finding his rhythm, he pistoned my holes, the pain and pleasure mingling, becoming a heady blend of perverted sex, taking me to hitherto unknown depths of sexual depravity. Immense shame and humiliation swamped me, drowned me.

  My pinched nipples aching, my tethered body quivering, he at last massaged my erect clitoris, bringing out a sensational multiple orgasm, surpassing any other I'd ever experienced. Crying in my emotion, my sex-induced emotion, tears of satisfaction rolling down the sides of my head into my ears, I sensed his spunk gush into my vaginal duct.

  "God, I'm coming!" he gasped, driving his penis into my cunt with a cruel vengeance, spunking my cervix. "Coming up your tight cunt!" On and on he thrust into me, sustaining my orgasm with his massaging fingertips as he pistoned my bottom-hole with the cylindrical object.

  Barely conscious, I whimpered in my coming until the beautiful sensations began to wane and I drifted gently down from my sexual heaven like a leaf falling from a tree. Although I'd been done, arse-fucked, arse-whipped, cunt-fucked, spunked, I still needed my fix - a mouth-fuck. But I had his sperm, I reflected, my vagina brimming as he finally slid his lust rod and the cylindrical object out of my sated body. Whatever happened now, I had his spunk safely sealed within my hot cunt. No one could take that away from me.

  "Still desperate for my sperm?" he asked, grinning as he moved round the table and towered above me.

  "Yes, I need sperm!" I gasped, my mouth dry, thirsty.

  "I don't know that I have any left."

  "Please, release my hands so I can scoop it out of my vagina. I must have sperm now, Gary!"

  "I'll scoop it out for you."

  Reaching between my thighs, he thrust two fingers into my spermed cunt and withdrew them. His hand only inches above my open mouth, he hesitated. "Please!" I begged, eyeing the opaque liquid glistening on his fingers. "Please, I must have it!" He moved his fingers closer as I pushed my tongue out. He was playing games with me, delighting in my plight, torturing me.

  He thrust his fingers into my cunt again, wiping the spunk over his balls, creaming his ball bag until he was dripping. Kneeling on the table, either side of my head, his balls over my mouth, he allowed me to lap up the drug. "I need more than that!" I whimpered, savouring the salty taste. "Much more!"

  His penis erect, wavering above my flushed face, he began to wank. I lay with my mouth open, my tongue out, desperate for him to shower me with his spunk. "Come!" I urged him as he gasped. "Please, come!" His naked body tensing, his shaft swelling, I knew he was almost there - I was almost there. Suddenly, it came, like a shower of white rain, splattering my face, my tongue. Lifting my head as he positioned his knob for a mouth-fucking, I took him inside and drank his nectar. Sucking, mouthing, I drained the last of his spunk from his heavy balls, swallowing the drug I so craved.

  The effect almost instantaneous, I lay there, satisfied, serene in my serenity as he slipped his beautiful plum out of my mouth and climbed off the table. Releasing the clothes pegs, my nipples sore and aching, he untied the leather straps and helped me to sit up. My body exhausted, the two holes between my legs inflamed, I slipped off the table and staggered on my trembling legs.

  "God!" I gasped, eyeing the huge wet candle on the worktop. "Is that what you used?"

  "Yes, did you enjoy it?" he asked, his brown hair dishevelled from recent sex.

  "No, I didn't. I must be going, Gary."

  "I'll see you again, of course."

  "I don't know, maybe," I replied, tugging my skirt up my legs and grabbing my blouse. He had me where he wanted me, and I hated it.

  I left him naked in his kitchen and staggered up the lane to my house, wondering at the vile acts I'd been forced to endure. Arse-fuck. I hated myself for what I'd done. I'd defiled my body, allowed my body to be used for crude perverted sex. Tears rolled down my cheeks as I opened my front door and entered the marital home. Marriage? Vows? Adultery, wanton adultery.

  In my studio, I slipped my clothes off and lay on the old Chesterfield, my mind racked with guilt, fear and shame. I was a whore, a tart, a filthy bitch. Adulteress? The word was nowhere near strong enough to describe what I'd done! Anal sex, the harsh words battered my mind. Never again! I vowed, swearing to get even with Gary. No matter how long it took, I'd get even with the bastard!

  Sitting up and grabbing the ringing phone, I cringed as Tony asked me where I'd been. "Walking," I replied, toying with my protruding inner lips as I parted my thighs wide.

  "Walking? Christ, Helen, you're never in when I phone!"

  "Yes, I am! I've been working, taking walks... I can't stay in the house twenty-four hours a day, Tony!" He was beginning to annoy me.

  "Is everything OK?"

  "Yes, of course it is."

  "You seem different. You sound different, Helen."

  "Do I?"

  "Yes, you do. Something's happened, hasn't it?"

  "Tony, the only thing that's happened is that I've been working too hard!"

  "Now you're shouting at me. Something's not right, I know it, I can sense it."

  "Fucking hell, Tony!"

  "Helen, I... Never in all the years I've known you have I heard you swear."

  "I'm sorry, I've been working too hard, that's all."

  "I'm coming home. Something's wrong, I'm catching the next flight home."

  Replacing the receiver as he hung up, I sighed. My shaved cunt, my weal-lined buttocks... he'd know what I'd been up to. I lay down with one foot on the floor and the other over the back of the sofa, my cunt slit gaping. Finger-fucking my sex hole with one hand, I masturbated my solid clitoris with the other, taking myself to one massive orgasm after another. What was I doing? And why? What had I become?

  Tony would be home by late evening if he managed to get a flight. Home to his devoted, loving wife - his fucking filthy prostitute. The end of a marriage, the end of an era. I'd leave him, explain that I wasn't happy and leave him, I decided as another orgasm gripped me in its velvety glove. Move to another town and... and what? And become Suzie.

  Chapter Six

  I woke in my bed the following morning, the events of yesterday slowly filtering into my tormented mind - Gary, the buttock caning, anal sex... Never would I allow a man to enter me there again, my bottom, my arse - arsehole. I didn't want to hear that obscene word again. It was a word I'd never thought I'd hear during sex. Cold sex, vile, indecent, corrupt. Anal intercourse, the thought disgusted me, sickened me, and I wondered at my sanity. I must have been crazy to allow Gary to fuck me there. Common tart, strumpet, immoral slag.

  Turning my head, I gazed at the plump pillow beside me and breathed a sigh of relief - Tony wasn't there. Perhaps he was in the kitchen? I thought fearfully, leaping out of bed and bounding downstairs - forgetting my nakedness, my hairless cunt, my inflamed, cane-lashed buttocks.

  Had I enjoyed the cane? I wasn't sure. The stinging pain mingling with incredible pleasure had excited me, wetted me, but... but what? Bondage, caning, anal abuse... what the hell was I becoming? I wasn't looking forward to visiting Gary again. I'd do my utmost to fight my addiction - and never visit Gary again.

  I searched the house and garden, Tony wasn't home, thank God! An early morning flight, perhaps? He might arrive at lunchtime. The nightmare was mind-blowing! I didn't know whether I was more fearful of Tony discovering my dark secrets, the ruination of my marriage, or... I was more fearful of my transformation from a faithful, loving wife to a common slut. My adultery was so blatant, so crude and debased, that I found difficulty remembering the old me. Where had Helen gone? Depression touched me.

  I sat on the lawn gazing at the house, the home we'd been so happy in. I'd destroyed everything, wrecked my marriage, m
y life - not to mention Tony's! The will of God? I again wondered. The will of Satan, more than likely!

  The grass soft, like green hairs tickling my naked vaginal lips, I sat cross-legged, looking down at my open pussy crack - my adulterous cunt. I'd abused my body, forsaken my femininity. I'd behaved as I'd never have believed I would. I wanted my waxen phallus to candle-fuck my cunt, dildo-fuck my cunt. I wanted Tony. No, I didn't. What did I want? I didn't want to be afraid of Tony's return, the explanations, the justifications, the excuses. It was my life, I was a married woman, but I still had my own life, my individuality, and I didn't see why I had to explain anything to anyone.

  I'd shaved my cunt, so what? After all, it was my cunt! I'd tell Tony that I was my own woman, that I... no, I wouldn't. What was the point in planning what I'd say when I knew damn well I'd say nothing of the sort? I'd done what I'd done and that was that. I couldn't change the past, I couldn't deny my addiction - and I wasn't going to explain anything to anyone.

  I lay back on the grass with my legs outstretched, my thighs wide, the sun bathing my gaping cunt crack. Cunt crack, a term I'd never have thought I'd use. Fuck, cunt, cock, spunk, arsehole... I'd changed, changed from Mrs Helen Hunter the artistic wife, the dinner party hostess, the elegant, graceful young woman with a brilliant future ahead of her, into... into Suzie, the common slut.

  But Gary had destroyed Suzie. Suzie the prostitute was no longer able to prostitute herself. Not unless she moved to new killing fields, sperming fields, away from the local common to fresh pastures, fresh milking pastures. Suzie was still there, lurking, waiting, biding her time.

  Fingering my open pussy hole, massaging my erect clitoris, the beautiful sensations uplifted me. Crude sex for the sake of crude sex. Should Tony walk into the garden and catch me in my wantonness, then so be it. It was if all that had happened was meant to happen, I reflected. Was it merely coincidence that Tony should go on business trips and I should discover my addiction to sperm? Was it coincidence that Lydia, a self-confessed lesbian, had come to me laden with sperm? Was Gary's discovery of my addiction a coincidence? No, all that had happened was meant to be. I was following my path in life, my destiny. But where to next? What was to happen next? I'd known love, I now knew lust. I'd known fidelity, I now knew promiscuity. I'd known passion, I now knew addiction.

  I ignored the ringing phone, as was becoming my wont. Masturbation should be uninterrupted, a long, slow uninterrupted act of self-loving. My clitoris throbbed, the sensations stealing through my body and seeping into my very being. Orgasm was coming, the eruption, the beautiful explosion of a self-induced sexual climax.

  My cunt had become the very centre of my being, my existence. My naked body, my temple, not desecrated as I'd thought, but worshipped. A temple of sexual fulfilment. Once given in the name of love, I now gave in the name of lust. I needed a penis, a penis throbbing in orgasm within my ravenous cunt. I'd had my fix; I now needed unemotional, crude sex.

  As my orgasm erupted, I half hoped that Tony would appear at the backdoor and gaze in horror at his so-called loving wife. I wanted him to see the pure sexual ecstasy depicted in my expression as I finger-fucked my cunt, massaged my pulsating clitoris and cried out in my depravity. In my rising wickedness, I wanted him to discover me with my tongue deep inside Lydia's hot cunt, and hers tongue-fucking my juiced cunt. I wanted to shock him.

  "God!" I gasped as the magical sensations rode on, my body shaking violently, my burning cunt spasming, pouring out the juices of my perverse lust. "God I need sex!"

  "I can see that!" In the haze of my shuddering orgasm, I vaguely recognized the male voice. "Christ, you're a horny little bitch!"

  "Alan!" I gasped, my climax quickly slipping away as he walked across the lawn and stood towering over my naked body, gazing at my sex-wet cunt - the evidence of my masturbating dripping from my sticky fingers.

  "How about letting me give you a hand?" he grinned, kneeling beside me as I sat up, crossing my legs and folding my arms to conceal my pert breasts. "Or a cock!"

  "No, get out of here!" I screamed. "Get out of my bloody life and stay out!"

  "Oh, well, if you're going to be like that... when's your husband due home?"

  "Unless you leave now, I'll..."

  "OK, OK! But I'll be back!" he grinned. His blue eyes reflected blackmail, evil. "I'll be back, Helen - you can be sure of that!"

  Watching him walk around the side of the house, I burst into tears. Uninterrupted masturbation? My life was continually interrupted! Why wouldn't people leave me alone? Interfering, meddling, prying, stealing, blackmailing... didn't they have their own lives to get on with? What was the fascination with other people's lives? Nosey bastards!

  Leaping to my feet, I dashed around the side of the house and locked the gate - locked out the world. Tears streaming down my face as I entered the kitchen, I held my head as the phone started ringing again. I just wanted to be left alone. Was there no peace? No, not for the wicked.

  "Now what?" I breathed wiping my eyes as I grabbed the receiver.

  "Are you OK?" Tony asked. "What do you mean, now what?"

  "Oh, Tony, I... I thought you were coming home? Where are you?"

  "Still in Paris, I couldn't get away."

  "Oh, good."

  "Good?"

  "Yes, good. I don't want you jeopardising your promotion by coming home to see if I'm all right."

  "Are you all right?"

  "How many times do I have to tell you that I'm fine?"

  "I'm sorry, Helen, but you seem different."

  "Yes, so you said yesterday."

  "What have you been up to?"

  "Working, Tony. Or, I should say, trying to work!"

  "You must be lonely?"

  "Hardly!"

  "What do you mean?"

  "Tony, I've been thinking, thinking about us."

  "I knew there was something wrong!"

  "You don't know anything."

  "I know you better than you know yourself, Helen!"

  "Do you? Well, see if you knew this. I've shaved my cunt."

  "What?"

  "I said, I've shaved my cunt."

  He was silent - stunned, no doubt. Why I'd said it, I didn't know, but in a way I was pleased that I'd told him. It was a weight off my mind. I didn't want weights on my mind, I had too many weights. I'd remove them one at a time; work on each one until I was free. Free of what? Free of myself?

  "You've shaved your..."

  "Yes, Tony, I've shaved my cunt."

  "Why are you talking like that?"

  "Like what?"

  "Using that awful word."

  "Cunt? Well, that's what it is, isn't it?"

  "Well, yes, but... something has happened, hasn't it?"

  "Tony, you're becoming incredibly boring!"

  "You don't want me anymore, do you?"

  "You make me want to cry, Tony."

  "Why?"

  "I don't know why. Don't keep phoning me."

  Hanging up, I went into my studio and flopped onto the Chesterfield, wondering why I'd said that to Tony. The phone rang again and I ignored it. My prerogative, my wont. Now I'd gone and upset Tony, caused him untold anxiety. He'd done nothing wrong, so why was I being nasty to him? I felt nastiness. At least he was still in Paris, which was something. The phone stopped ringing.

  Evaluating the situation, I toyed with my erect clitoris, revelling in the beautiful sensations as she pulsated in response to my intimate caresses. I'd had my fix, so I'd be free of the dreadful symptoms for a couple of days. Gary had a few days off work, but what would I do if he wasn't around when I needed him, his cock - his sperm? I didn't want to see him again. Another bridge to be crossed.

  Alan Walker, yet another bloody bridge. He hadn't given up, but why should I worry about him? His only threat was to show Tony the pictures and I really didn't care whether he revealed my behaviour at that party or not. I was drunk, and they'd taken advantage of me, it was as simple as that. The past, dead and gone. />
  Problems. God, why all these problems? I wondered. But they needn't be problems. I was beginning to realize the power of my cunt, the pulling power. It was to my advantage to use that power, I decided. Rather than allow people to use me, to cause me problems, to blackmail me, I'd be better off turning the tables and blackmailing others.

  The notion pleased me, sent a quiver up my spine as I imagined threatening Alan. But what with? Empty threats, I had nothing on him. I'd offer him perverted sex in return for the photographs. But there'd obviously be more copies, and the crude sex would never end. Perpetual perverted sex. If he was married, I could threaten to go to his wife with my tales of adultery.

  Moving my wet fingers away from my rubicund sex crack, I decided that the time had come to get back into my work. The blackmailers could all go to hell as far as I was concerned. If I decided that I didn't want Tony, there'd be no blackmail. But I'd see to it that the bastards would pay for their threats. Get something on Gary and threaten to destroy him, and Alan and David.

  I answered the front door naked. I should have slipped into my smock, but I decided against it. In my wickedness, I was out to shock. Besides, nudity is no cause for shame. Gary was standing on the step, an evil glint in his eyes, a grin furling his lips. What did he want, sex? Yes, obviously!

  "I'm busy," I snapped.

  "I just thought I'd come and say hallo," he said, scrutinizing my naked body. Was his penis stiffening?

  "Well, you've said hallo, and I must say goodbye."

  "What's the matter, Helen?"

  "Nothing's the matter, I'm busy, that's all."

  "I've been thinking," he said pensively, reaching out and squeezing my nipple. "This addiction of yours..."

  "I don't want to talk about it, Gary," I returned, pushing his hand away from my breast. "And I don't want you coming here."

  "You don't want this, you don't want that. The thing is, when you need sperm you'll come running to me, and when I want sex I'll come running to you. That's why I'm here, Helen - I want sex."

  I couldn't rile Gary, my supplier, but I wasn't going to be at his beck and call, open my legs at the drop of his trousers. I searched for a lie, and came up with what I thought to be a good one.