Pussy Licking


First experience

First experience. I thought I would share our experience with you. Please let me know what you think. Our introduction to bestiality came about purely accidentally. As these things often happen, until it occurred, I had never given a thought to including an animal in sex play, but when it presented its self, the result was to be life changing. We had been married for some time. Two children were the result of some inept sexual excursions with my wife. We had only really discovered the pleasure of each other's bodies once the kids were born and we decided that two was enough.

Fortunes of war

Packed earth crunched beneath her hands and knees. Her torn and ravaged body shuddered and continued to leak the cumulative essences of hers and the horse's sexual organs. She stayed quite still, head hanging down and reeling, waiting for sufficient recovery and the strength to return enough so that she could once again stand, once again look up and study the faces of the crowd. Her lover was being led away by his halter. The animal had no more interest in her now that he had fulfilled his need. All that remained of the grey stallion was the semen that trickled from between her ruined lips and the puddle that formed on the floor, to soak into the bare earth.

Moon Phases

Six months earlier. It was at a beach party that Jack was turned. Someone, an acquaintance, invited him and a few bottles, to the dunes on the South Kentish Sea front near Dungeness. As usual, he drank a bit too much, but he was sure afterwards, that his drink was spiked. Certainly, he had a metallic taste in his mouth the next morning and a monumental headache, the like he had never experienced before. He was also quite photosensitive to the point of almost being blinded by the sunlight. He was alone and all that remained of the previous night's party were a few dying embers in the fire, and a few beer bottles and cans scattered around.

Painted Student

Lunch time in the refectory can be hectic. Students and staff share the same facilities, queuing for hot meals or paninis and coffee. It isn't the largest room in the college so, the tables and chairs can become precious, especially when they are pulled out of their serried ranks into group patterns so friends can socialize while they eat.Today was just like any other at lunch; hectic. The place heaved with a mass of young people whose voices joined in a cacophony of noise. The smell of food being cooked and coffee wafted on a warm breeze that circulated the canteen.The scrape of a chair on the herring-bone parquet flooring drew a glance from me, focusing my attention for a brief moment.

Retribution

It took Jon nearly a year to arrange it, but now his careful planning and meticulous timing was coming into fruition. Having past the wrought iron gates and driven down the gravel drive with tufts of grass growing through it, the end game was now in full swing, like a run away juggernaut, it was unstoppable. He could picture when it all started, the re-run going through his minds eye as he drove towards destiny. It seemed that it had been one of those days; one of those occasional days, when anything and everything that could go wrong, would go very wrong. The car had stopped for some inexplicable reason, probably electrical.

Role play

Occasionally, just occasionally, role play in the bedroom takes on a whole new intensity and, instead of role playing; the person becomes the role and is taken to another dimension. Occasionally, what starts out as a fantasy, stitched into a session of sex, soon becomes a situation, where anything becomes possible. Where inhibitions are left behind and the participants are removed from the real world of stresses and strife to a place, totally overtaken by the acts of present and future, lust and promise of fulfillment. The following is one such event; where the players become the played and all plans become secondary to the unfolding events, where the scene is the lasting real part of a fiction.

Sal's lover

Sal's love. Brrrrb. Brrrrrb. Sal picked up the wall phone on the second ring and tucked it under her chin. "Hello." Her hands were covered in flour and a stray lock of hair got pushed back with her wrist. "I know what you did last summer." The heavily disguised voice announced through the earpiece. "Josh! Hi how are you? Where are you?" Her pleasure at hearing his voice was evident in the immediate flush to her cheeks and breathlessness he always caused. "Hi-ya Sal; I'm downtown and around for a few days; Just wondered if you fancied a meet sometime over the next day or two. I still know what you did last summer though." He laughed in his easy manner; oblivious of the effect he had on her.

The office

Before you read this, it isn't a stroke story as such. A story with sex in it yes, but not a quick fire wham bam. I thought it best to let you know. The players:Stella was a bitch, pure and simple, a statement of irrefutable fact. Somehow, in her twelve years working at the small Accountancy practice, she had charmed, or perhaps bullied the senior partner into making her the Office Manager. She was the archetype of the Office Manageress. Quite tall, at around six foot, as slender as a rake handle, with hair pulled savagely back into a bun at the back of her head that you would swear was pulling her face out of shape and taking out the wrinkles.

Perfect slave

The perfect SlaveDenise really was the perfect slave. The level of submission and compliance was far beyond that of any I had experienced before and I have been training slaves for a long time. The golden rule is establishing a safe word at the very beginning. It can be anything that wouldn't be used in the context of sex so a word like "apricot" is good. Denise had never used her word even though I had taken her to extremes of torment. Never once had she complained when my whip slashed at her skin, raising deep red welts across her tits and buttocks. Using a speculum on her hadn't fazed her at all.

The stray

The first time I saw the stray was as I left home for work. He was curled up against the privet hedge, sleeping, just inside my front garden. He looked up as the garden gate squeaked, but showed little interest in me. He passed from mildly interesting to completely forgotten in the time it took to reach my car. The next time I saw the stray, he was laying full stretch in front of the fire in my living room. Jill had obviously met him and, Jill being Jill, had brought him in, probably fed him, mothered him and become his best friend, all in a day. The dog looked up, mildly curious at who was entering the room, but returned his nose to his paws and contented sleep.