peter and meg

“Ah. Interesting. I don’t think I ever fucked a virgin. You know what to do.” We got to the kitchen, and Carol sat up on the kitchen island and grabbed my cock again. “Good. Your tall enough for this. My short ass husband couldn’t get his dick above the counter.” She laid back on the island, pushing my head down as she did. “Lick me for a minute. I want to be nice and wet when you stretch my pussy.” Carol put her legs on my shoulders as I bent over to lick her already quite wet pussy. I wrapped my lips around her clit and sucked it into my mouth again, swirling my tongue all around her throbbing nub. “Fuck yeah. You just found my new favorite way to get eaten. Yeah. Don’t stop. Suck on my pussy.” My face was wet again, with her juices running down my chin and dripping onto the cold granite. I paused playing with her clit to lick up around her hole. I slid down and licked the wetness from her taint. She moaned and I lifted her hips a bit and ran my tongue over her nice clean butthole. She moaned again. “Ahhhhh! Bad boy! Save that for later. Fuck me now!”

That Saturday passed like a blur as Sarah did her social duties with her friends, but in the back of her mind her guilt was steadily building. What she had done last night was not okay. But it was a moment of weakness, a mistake of her youth, so with one and done there wouldn’t be a problem, right? Her night’s rest seemed to disagree. Six times she woke that night, each time with the desire to visit her father again, but she managed to persevere. She had to watch her video from last night a few times before her lust could be controlled, but she got through the night, minus quite a few hours of sleep as a cost.

Something was wrong. I struggled to open my eyes, blearily forcing myself to focus. I was in a red-panelled room, dimly lit, one I'd never been in before, with... things, on the walls. Whips, floggers, toys of all descr*ptions, most of which I couldn't even name. It was only then that I realized I was naked, bound on my back to a table with my legs spread into a slight V in the air, wrists above my head, a belt around my waist holding me down. I lifted my head, and saw that my six-inch dick was hard and straining, twitching without my command. Why the fuck was I hard? Arousal was the last thing I was feeling! Confusion, fear, panic, yes. But not arousal.