I suppose,
subconsciously, psychologically, I wanted to paint filthy scenes to
somehow counteract my wanton debauchery. I'd take it out on the
canvas; seek revenge for my wrongdoing, my immorality, through my
work. What was lurking in my subconscious, the dark corners of my
mind where secrets skulked, hideous secrets of filth and
debauchery?
Slipping out
of my clothes, I stood naked before the canvas. A full length
mirror, I mused. Yes, a full length mirror in the studio would
reflect my nakedness, my shaved cunt. I'd faithfully paint a
cucumber emerging from between my taut pussy lips. The mirror would
help me to catch every detail, my pink inner flesh, taut around the
green shaft, my exposed clitoris, my cunt hole crudely forced wide
open by the fruit.
The doorbell
rang and I wondered whether to answer it in my nakedness. I wanted
to answer the door with a cucumber emerging from my cunt. That
would shock whoever it was. Had Alan come round for sex? It wasn't
Gary, surely? Wandering through the hall and opening the door an
inch or so, I was surprised to see Stephen Giles on the step.
"Oh!" I gasped. "Er... I'm naked; I've just had a
bath."
A sperm bath
.
"I came to
pick up the painting," he said, his dark eyes lowering. Was the
righteous managing director trying to catch a glimpse of my cunt?
Had he had a change of mind? Did he want me to suck him off? In my
wickedness, I hoped he did. I was becoming cruder by the day.
"Wait there
and I'll put something on," I smiled, my vaginal muscles spasming
as I imagined his cock entering me, fucking me, spunking up me.
He pushed the
door open and gazed candidly at my nakedness, my firm breasts, my
elongated nipples. Did he want me to wank him, shoot his come all
over my areolae, my nipples? What did he want, really? Clasping my
hands, I veiled my hairless cunt, my face flushing, my clitoris
pulsating at the prospect of sex, orgasm. Another man, another
stiff cock, more spunk - why not?
"About Tony's
promotion," he began as he stepped into the hall and tweaked my
sore nipple. "I've been thinking and..."
"He will get
promotion, won't he?" I asked, trying to appear naive, innocent. I
knew what was coming next.
"That all
depends on you, Helen."
On the availability of my cunt, no doubt
. "On me?" I gasped. "But, the other day when I..."
"I've given
your proposition a lot of thought."
"Proposition?
I didn't propose anything."
"You know what
I'm talking about, Helen. Don't play games with me."
I knew only
too well what he was talking about! "You'd better come through to
the lounge," I invited him, smiling sweetly.
Closing the
front door, he followed me, no doubt focusing on my thrashed
buttocks, the thin pink weals. This was a new ball game, I mused as
we entered the lounge. If I were to give Stephen what he wanted,
I'd secure Tony's promotion. The future was looking better than
ever. And with Stephen to supply me with sperm on a regular basis,
I wouldn't need Gary. But I'd keep Suzie.
"I take it
that you mean you want sex in return for Tony's promotion," I said,
my hands hanging by my sides, my shaved cunt blatantly displayed
before his wide eyes.
"Tony's good,
he'll go far, but he'll go even further if you..."
"Why the
change of mind? The other day, you were shocked when I..."
"As I said,
I've given it a lot of thought. Who whipped you?"
I licked my
lips provocatively and tossed my long blonde hair over my shoulder.
"A girlfriend whipped me."
"Does Tony
know about her?"
"No, he
doesn't. So, what else will Tony get, apart from promotion?"
"That depends
on what you have to offer me. The more you offer me, the more I'll
give Tony."
Sperm oozed
from my cunt and ran down my inner thighs. "I have everything to
offer you, Stephen."
"In that case,
his salary will rise considerably - with immediate effect, of
course."
Kneeling
before him, I tugged his zip down and hauled his erect penis out.
He was big, hard, stiff in his arousal, and I couldn't wait to take
his maleness into my thirsty mouth and suck out his spunk. God, how
I'd changed within such a short space of time! I could hardly
believe what I was thinking as I imagined him fucking my
sperm-juiced cunt and then penetrating my already inflamed
bottom-hole - my arsehole.
But things
were turning out far better than I'd ever imagined. I no longer
needed my perverted neighbour, financially we'd be far better off,
and hopefully my erotic paintings would make a name for me.
Suddenly having an idea, I looked up at Stephen. I might as well
get all I could while the going was good, grab what was on
offer.
"I don't want
Tony working abroad," I said, licking my lips as I pulled his
foreskin back. "I want him based in London, as before."
"Anything you
say," he smiled, unbuckling his belt and tugging his trousers down.
"Now show me how good you are."
Cupping his
heavy balls in my palm, I took his glans deep into my mouth and
gently sucked. He gasped, his penis twitching as he held my head
and began his mouth-fucking. I sensed power, power over men. I was
a sperm addict, but Stephen didn't know that - he had no power over
me. He obviously knew that I was a tart, a nymphomaniac, and was
using me to satisfy his base male desires. I'd use him to help Tony
and he'd use me for sex, a good arrangement, a perfect
relationship. I sensed great power.
But I still
couldn't think why Stephen had change his mind. From appearing
shocked when I'd previously hauled his cock out, he was now
desperate for sex. Perhaps his wife had denied him the pleasure of
a fuck and he'd thought of me, my hot, wet mouth. Whatever had
changed his mind didn't matter. The point was that Tony would get
his promotion and a damn good pay rise - and he'd be based in
London. No doubt Stephen would visit me during the day for
clandestine sex while Tony was at work. Yes, it was a good
plan.
"The
painting's doubled in price, Stephen," I said nonchalantly,
slipping his wet glans out of my mouth and licking his solid shaft.
Wickedness gripped me. Was Satan near? I imagined that he was
always near now - he owned me.
"I'll pay you
double if you bring yourself off. I like watching women masturbate,
Helen. Give me a good masturbation show, and I'll pay you double
for the Blue Lady."
Standing up
and moving across the room to Tony's chair, my fucking chair, I
caressed the large wooden knob. A good show? I'd give him the best
display of female masturbation ever! Settling on the sofa, his
trousers around his ankles, his penis pointing to the ceiling, he
watched as I pulled the back of the chair over and ran the wooden
knob up and down my sex-drenched cunt crack. My juices decanting in
torrents, lubricating the polished wooden ball in readiness for
vaginal penetration, my stomach somersaulted in my lewdness.
Sensing my clitoris swell and pulsate, I wondered what Stephen was
thinking as he watched my lewd and degrading act.
I'd first met
Stephen at a dinner party. I'd been in awe of him, his position,
his power - but now he was in awe of me. The big managing director
was nothing more than an ordinary man, a man with sexual desires, a
married man - an adulterer. He'd succumb to my juiced cunt, my hot
mouth, and give me anything I asked in return. Tony would climb the
ladder of promotion all the way to the top, with my help - with the
help of my cunt. I was a highly successful prostitute.
"I enjoy
fucking the chair knob," I gasped in my new-found perversity,
easing the huge wooden phallus into my vaginal entrance. "I've had
candles up my cunt, and cucumbers, bananas, apples..."
"You're some
woman!" he exclaimed, fondling his solid penis. "How often do you
masturbate?"
"As often as I
can."
On reflection,
not often enough! The wooden knob sinking deep into my cunt,
filling me, stretching my inner flesh, I shuddered. I'd fuck the
chair knob every day, I decided. But what was I doing? Standing
naked before Stephen Giles, Tony's managing director, with the
chair knob up my cunt... what was I doing? My masturbatory habits
were to have been a dark secret. Nothing was secret anymore.
I sensed
shame, guilt. I was torn again. Satan was pulling from one
direction and God from the other. Was there really a God? God had
given me my cunt, and Satan was using my cunt. But if Tony got his
promotion... did I want to stay with Tony? Confusion set in, I was
floundering in my confused thoughts again.
"Give the
chair a good fuck!" Stephen laughed, focusing on my pussy lips,
taut around the wooden phallus. "Fuck the chair and bring yourself
off!" Apart from Tony's promotion, and his increase in salary, I'd
get double for the Blue Lady, I mused as I rocked my hips, sliding
the knob in and out of my tightening vagina. What was I doing? I
knew exactly what I was doing! I knew exactly why God had given me
a cunt!
My knees bent,
my feet wide apart, I clung to the chair as I thrust my hips back
and forth, fucking my hot cunt with the wooden knob. Massaging my
clitoris with my free hand, I sensed the birth of my orgasm
trembling in my contracting womb. The sensations were heavenly, my
entire body coming alive with perverted sex as I climbed
ever-closer to my climax. In my new-found filth, I wanted the
wooden ball up my arsehole.
My eyes shut,
my mouth open, gasping, I let out a long low moan of pleasure as my
orgasm erupted, sending electrifying tingles of sex through my
quivering flesh. "God, my cunt!" I cried involuntarily in my
perversity. "Ah, God, my beautiful cunt!"
My head back,
my long blonde hair tickling my spine, I continued my chair
fucking, my clitoral massaging, sustaining my incredible pleasure
until my legs sagged and I crumpled to the floor. Panting, tossing
my head from side to side, I squeezed and pinched my nipples as my
vagina longingly gripped the cunny-wet wooden ball. I'd found my
sexual paradise, the beautiful ripples of sex emanating from my
clitoris as I gently massaged her, loved her, I'd found my sexual
hell.
I lay there
for some time, unaware of my surroundings, of Stephen's naked body
towering over me, his solid penis in his hand. I sensed movement,
Stephen kneeling either side of my firm breasts. His cock was hard,
warm as he laid his solid shaft in my cleavage and pushed my
breasts together with his hands, enveloping his rock-hard
penis.
"Ever had a
cleavage fuck?" he asked, rocking his hips, his cock sliding back
and forth between my firm tits.
"No," I
murmured, opening my eyes and lifting my head. His glans, his sperm
slit, appeared and disappeared as he cleavage-fucked me, abused
me.
"Hold your
tits together," he breathed, his eyes transfixed on my nipples.
"Transform your cleavage into a tight cunt for me to fuck."
Pushing my
breasts together, squashing his cock between my mammary spheres, my
erect nipples meeting, I couldn't take my eyes off his knob as it
repeatedly emerged from between my firm globes, my tit cunt.
Gasping, he quickened his tit-fucking, his heavy balls rolling over
my upper stomach, his pubic curls tickling my sensitive skin.
This was a new
experience for me, cleavage sex. It was something I'd heard about,
but never dreamed of trying with Tony. There were many things I'd
never dreamed of trying with Tony. Arse-fuck, arse-whip. Did Tony
want to deviate from the norm? I wondered. Had he ever thought
about experimenting, discovering perverse sexual delights? No, I
decided that he hadn't. Tony amalgamated sex with love, as I'd
always done. Now, I'd split the two, separated them, pushed a wedge
between sex and love. The two words no longer had an association;
sex and love were as different as chalk and cheese. I knew what sex
was, but what was love?
"God!" Stephen
gasped, his penis swelling between my tits. "Christ, I'm coming!"
His spunk shot out of his slit, showering my neck, a pearl
necklace. I sensed his sex liquid running down my tingling skin,
splattering my face, and I imagined four men positioned around me,
wanking, spraying my face, my mouth, my tongue, with their jetting
sperm.
I'd had my fix
from Gary, but I scooped up Stephen's offering with my fingertips
and sucked them clean. The more sperm I drank, the longer I'd stave
off my next craving, my next panic attack - and I wasn't going to
let one drop go to waste. Lifting my head and releasing my breasts,
I sucked Stephen's orgasming knob into my hot mouth and drained
him, swallowing the last globules of opaque liquid before he fell
to one side and collapsed on the floor in his adulterous
ecstasy.
"God, you're
good!" he breathed, his eyes closed, his slug-like penis snaking
over his hairy balls.
"I get
better," I smiled, climbing to my feet and standing with my feet
either side of his head, my gaping cunt crack above his face.
"You'll have this next time," I grinned, parting my swollen pussy
lips and exposing my drenched vaginal opening, my solid clitoris.
"You can have this whenever you want, if you keep your side of the
bargain."
"Yes, yes I
will," he murmured, focusing on my crudely exposed, drenched sex
hole.
I'd had more
than enough sex for the time being. "You'd better sort yourself out
and leave, Stephen. I have things to do, work to get on with."
I sat on the
sofa as he dressed, wondering what his wife would do if she
discovered his adultery. Hysterics followed by nights of tear-wet
pillows, and finally, divorce. He wouldn't want that, I knew. I had
Stephen Giles now, had him where I wanted him - and Tony was going
to shoot to the top of the ladder. But what would I do? Which
ladder was I climbing? Or descending?