Loading...Each year I travel to the convention at Hay on Wye. It’s a small town near Monmouth in Wales that has the most amazing river close by where in my teens and early twenties I used to canoe. Now I go to this sleepy area for its once a year awakening where book sellers, buyers and authors come to share tales, ply their trade or just browse and pick up the atmosphere.
I’d done this trip to Hay from my house in the North Yorkshire Dales (another of Britain’s idylls) every year for 10 years when one particular visit there was a new bookseller. She had set up a Winnebago motorhome on the edge of the main event. It was unusual and that was what drew me to it. Her windows were blacked out like some of the sex shops you see round the towns of England and her advertisement outside stated ‘Unusual Books for the Adventurous Body’. That intrigued me. For the body not the person? I had to go in and find out more.
When I approached the door it was evidently locked. A man in front of me said, ‘Weirdest shop I’ve ever heard of. I tried the door and she told me to go away. Does she want to bloody sell anything or not?’
I smiled at him in that humouring way we Brits have perfected when we don’t want to get caught in a moaning match and still approached the door. I knocked. Nothing. I put my ear to the door and knocked again. I was just about to walk away when I heard a click and the door open.
“Come on in,” came the kindly invite from the disconnected voice of a woman inside the motorhome.
I opened the door and stepped in. It was quite dark inside and I couldn’t make her out.
“Stand where you are, I want to look at you,” she said, again in a kindly way but with unmistakable authority. I obeyed instantly and unquestioningly. Even with so few words I sensed something special here.
“So what drew you to my little shop?” she asked, quite abruptly this time and in her voice I sensed a slight acidity.
“Er, your sign madam. I was intrigued that your claim was about the body not the mind. I have seen plenty here claiming to change the mind and spirit but not the body, with the exception of the usual keep fit and eat greens books. I was intrigued.”
“Yes, you were, weren’t you?”
“Pardon?”
“You weren’t put off by that stupid man who complained that I was closed.”
“So, is your brain as tolerant to other things, other than time and whether a shop is open or not?”
“I like to think that I am…”
“Think you are, or am tolerant and open?” she interrupted, her voice taking on a seductive quality.
“I guess I am tolerant, or so my friends and colleagues have said.”
She was intriguing me but I was still struggling to see her. I had worked out where she was sitting and her outline. I judged her to be long haired and given the height of her torso to the likely height of the seats in this motorhome, quite tall. It was frustrating me that I could not see her, especially as my other senses were growing in sensitivity and I could not mistake the aroma of a woman’s sex.
“Ok then. I want you to turn round and walk towards the green light at the back of the van. You will need to feel your way a little. When you get there, take off all your clothes.”
“What?” I asked, completely startled by this.
“Take off all your clothes. You said you were tolerant and open. It is a little test. From what I have seen of you clothed you are a fine figure for a man of what, forty-five?”
“Y-yes,” I said, feeling like a schoolboy on his first sexual encounter. “I work out regularly and I run twice a week, so I do keep in shape.”
“That is why I opened the door to you, because what you are to discover in here with me requires stamina and besides, I want to share my revelations with beauty not the beast; though it may bring out the inner beast in you.” She laughed lightly at this, with a hint of wavering in her voice. Was she becoming even more aroused? The smell of sex was strong now. The heat in the rooms had increased too. So had the warmth between my legs. I was as hard as a rock now. There was such sexual promise in the air. And to think I had come here to read books!
“Now hurry to the end of the room.”
Readers, I did hurry. I was aching by the time I covered the short distance and needed to get out of my clothes, especially my trousers that seemed extremely tight at that moment. I was hard, harder than I had been in a long time. As I reached the last drop of a garment, so the lights came on and I could see I was in the kitchen area, though the surfaces had been lined with sheets of plywood painted black. On top of these were numerous books, all neatly placed in piles.
I looked back. She had drawn a curtain across the entrance to the lounge and was talking through it.
“You are a beautiful man.” The lust in her voice was unmistakeable.
How could she see me? Then I noticed the two CCTV cameras, one at each end of this area. My instinct was to try to cover my cock, which was a physical impossibility as it was at its highest and biggest. I was fortunate to be endowed with a large penis, which has been both my fortune (I stripped for money to pay my way through college) and my misfortune (It always made me go astray during my marriage until my wife got sick of sharing me with so many). She ignored my inexplicable embarrassment – she’d wanted me to do it for heaven’s sake!
“I want you to pick up a book, any book, from the side and read it aloud.”
I stood there, my cock massive and no longer hidden as I realised the futility of even trying to hide it. I picked up any old title, opened the first page and began to read…
‘I never thought that showing Belinda how to repair her car could be such fun. There she was, her skirt riding high over her large arse cheeks and she appeared to have forgotten her knickers! What was a man to do? I stared in wonder at the pink puckered hole above her very wet slit. For the first time in my life I realised I was more interested in that forbidden place than the inviting cunt below. Well, my cock was straining in my overalls.
I hadn’t realised she was looking back at me.
“Have you never seen an anus Johnnie? It’s the best place for a cock of your size.”
My God! She was being forward…’
“Choose another,” came the dismembered voice, thick with lust.
I looked around, realising the covers gave no clue to the content. This one was titled, ‘The Prince and the Book Seller’. A nice irony I thought.
“Read from half way in,” she instructed.
‘I loved his cock so much. Whenever my Prince came back from the hunt I wanted to lick and suck at that sweat-covered sack and the long rod above. I loved the taste of the salt on him and the spunk that began to seep as I aroused him. But tonight he seemed bored of this attention, even though I had worn my most daring dress and met him at the tackle room as he instructed…
“You showed me a text the other day that has left me desirous of another game.”
I knew the book! How excited I felt, especially that he wished to try it. My plan had worked.
“Hitch your skirt and petticoats and bend over that tackle bar. Bare your arse for me and hold your cheeks wide apart, for I am going to bugger you as your text called it…’
“Pick another,” she said, urgency clear in her voice. I was hard, reader, so hard reading this depraved filth.
The book had a yellow cover and was filled with illustrations. The first was of a woman clearly licking an erect cock that had, from the context of the drawing, only just been in the sucking woman’s anus. There was a caption that admonished her for having not had an enema before their coupling. This book was far more ‘raw’ than the other two.
“Hurry up, man!” read what it says, she snapped.
‘I felt so ashamed having not cleaned my bowel ready for His Lordship’s cock. As he fucked my anus so I needed to shit. I had to excuse myself and rush to the ladies room. When I returned he was standing there glaring, pointing to his long, thin prick that had only minutes before been tunnelling into my bowel and sending spasms of both pleasure and discomfort. I was mortified seeing the little pieces on it,, but I had been so busy that morning preparing her ladyship for her weekend in the country, and she had been so kind to me laying me back on the bed and tipping my velvet until I came. I was too late to do my ablutions in readiness. It was so unlike me…’
I read on and on, book after book. They all had one theme, anal sex. Far from being turned off by them as I had been in the past, I was permanently hard.
“So tell me, do you like what you have read?” she asked, the voice seductive and suggesting hunger.
“Er-yes I think so.”
“Darling, stop being so coy, your cock says you love it!”
“Ok, ok, I do love it. I am curious about it.” I’d never done it and I wanted it like nobody’s business but there I was understating what was really in my mind and my mind by that time was in the end of my dick!
“So what if I was to tell you that you can have it now, in this home?” she asked, her voice soft, husky, clearly wanting.
I was dumbfounded. I may have strayed in my marriage, many a time, but each occasion had been because a relationship had developed. Now I was being urged to just shove my cock in and don’t bother with the ‘excuse me’s’ and not in the usual hole either. Wow, this was amazing and I was having an amygdala hijack. What a time for all my hormones to immobilise me!
“So what’s happened to your tongue honey? Your cock is still pointing the right way, so what’s up?” she enquired, but with a slightly mocking tone. I could feel my prick begin to sag a little. She knew it. “Beautiful, get your fucking body over here, NOW!”
No sweet enticing words now. She was ordering me and urgently. She had to; I was stuck fast to the floor until she did that. So, I parted the curtain and entered a room now completely bathed in warm lighting. And there she was, ahead of me. What a sight!
In front of me were the firm ripe buttocks of a dark skinned woman. She was kneeling on a low bench seat that went the length of the three walls. Behind and above her were TV monitors, linked to the CCTV’s. She even had a camera pointing up between her legs via a fibre-optic and one in the ceiling directly above her arse directed down. My entrance to the room was featured on a screen just in front of her, with split screens around it on the monitors that faced her. Though none f this technology held my gaze for long. No, it was the slightly opened ring of her dark and puckered anus that mesmerised me. I wanted, no craved, shoving my cock deep into there. The books had turned me on and for one type of sex only. I wanted to bugger her, there and then.
“So honey, tell me what you are thinking now you have my cunt and arsehole on show. Which is the nicer place for that long cock of yours?”
“Your anus,” I blurted out, without a moment’s hesitation.
“Then fuck it my beauty! Please, fuck it hard,” she pleaded. She wanted me and badly. “There is some gel by my right knee. Put lots on your fingers and your cock. It has aphrodisiac powers. Good…Now push your fingers into me and smear it in my colon and round my anus…mmmm…yes that is good.”
You know, I was enjoying it. Her anus was practiced and opened almost on command. Inside her rectal passage was pulsing with peristaltic movements and I could feel the strong muscles that normally would be pushing things out not taking things in. That was the challenge I understood from the books, the sensuality of fucking against the tide. This was no vagina that sucked you in. She was squirming and pushing back onto my fingers until I could stand it no longer. I mounted her without warning, pushing my prick slowly into her opening and willing arsehole. I felt the resistance in spite of all her familiarity with the assault and my cock head strained and pushed wide the anal ring. I loved its tightness as my foreskin was stretched back when I pushed more and more of my cock’s pulsing length into her.
My hands slid over her smooth dark skin, heading around her waist and up to cup her breasts that moved like two pendulums as I gently held them, teasing with my palms the erect nipples. Then as I got almost to full depth inside her arsehole I grasped them cruelly and firmly, digging my nails into her flesh and made the final plunge until my cock had no place to go. My balls slapped against her arse and cunt, swinging under her as I fucked her violently, just as she had instructed me though screams of joy after some of pain.
“Yes, fuck my anus. Fuck me in the arse. Ohhhh, love me with your big dick. Deeper, come on you bugger, deeper. Harder you wimp,” she screamed. Her breathing was ragged and I could tell that even without clitoral stimulation she was going to come and quickly. That made me even more excited and also cruel. I bit into her neck as my cock increased its tight fuck and stretched and scraped at her tits, wanting to hurt them as I sensed her love of pleasure and pain. She was screaming abuse at me but urging me on at the same time.
“No, no, no…yes you bastard, yes, yes…hurt me please, no stop, no fuck me…hurt my tits…yes, that’s it be cruel to me…”
It was incessant and so noisy. No wonder she parked near the edge of the festival, was the funny thought that entered my head just at the point that she came. And I mean came! She moaned and screamed and bucked back onto my cock, grinding her arse against my hips and thighs, reaching back with her nails and digging them in to my skin. It hurt but I was beyond caring, because I was coming too.
“Ohhhhh…Fucking hell…yeeeessssss,” I was shouting, not caring who heard. This was the best fuck I’d ever had. So tight and gloriously urgent and primeval. I felt powerful, yet held form cock head to base. “I’m coming beautiful and you are going to get one big load of cum right up your arse.”
“Oh yes honey, come for me, come in my anus and I am going to give you a treat to follow that you will never, ever forget.”
And I came, spurting my hot jism right up high into her rectum. Her shit hole was being lubricated with hot spunk and she loved it. I collapsed on top of her, my hands never letting go of the hard nipples that I held between thumb and forefinger in cruel pinches, but I knew she was loving this from the way she ground her body into mine and kept say over and over, but quieter and quieter, “mmmmm…so good…sooo good…”
It took quite some time to come round, we were both exhausted but then she asked me to lie on my back. My cock was limp and lying to the right, nuzzled over my balls. She knelt over me.
“Hi honey,” she said, a beaming smile of bright white teeth flashed at me. “I need to properly thank you.”
I was looking up at her, wondering what she meant but at the same time astonished by the beauty of the woman. She was very tall, taller than I had imagined, with breasts that defied gravity. She had to be a 38DD but there was no sag and no sign of silicon. Her nipples were huge and showing signs of my cruelty as welts had formed on the aureole. But what really got me was the beauty of her face. She looked Mauritian or at least Southern Indian, with the most sparkling eyes, high cheek bones and that smile, oh, that beautiful smile. As for the rest of her, that was divine too. She had an hourglass waist and a perfectly flat stomach. I wondered if…
“Yes, I am an athlete and yes, you have seen me on television.” She smiled.
Then it came to me, she was the famous 10k race winner for the past two years in the UK championships. It was…
“Carly …”
“Carly Smythe-Chellappa?”
“Yes, honey, that’s me but shhh…I have some debts to repay and some messes to clear up.”
With that she winked, then slid down between my thighs and proceeded to run her tongue over my balls and inner thighs. This was bliss. Her tongue was firm at times but then incredibly gentle. She was kissing and licking through the hairs of my scrotum, while her long nails scraped across my limp but growing cock. A part of me was worrying about the hygiene of this; the other part just wanted that warm wet mouth wrapped around me. Oh, but when her tongue began to lap and tease at my prick any thoughts of cleanliness were gone. No, I wanted this slut to clean me up and take back any particles of shit. I was in command, she was just my whore.
“Yes, gorgeous slut, clean me. Take my cock and give it a good clean.”
I heard a little moan of pleasure. I knew then that this was exactly how she wanted to be treated. She liked the degradation, was hungry to go down on me and clean me up from the proceeds of her arse. I was in control and that is what she really desired most of all. And oh how she cleaned me! Her sexy tongue was up and down my shaft and her mouth took me fully in to her mouth in a style Linda Lovelace would have envied. This woman knew her cock sucking, but she also knew a lot more…
She suddenly stopped sucking.
“What’s happening?”
“Nothing sir, I just want to increase your pleasure. Will you turn over and get onto all fours for me sir so I can see your arsehole and those lovely balls from behind?”
I did as I was told. I was hoping she was going to do something I’d only dreamed of before. She did. I felt her hands open my arse cheeks wide and then her tongue stabbed at the entrance to my anus. She was teasing at the puckering entrance, opening it with loving kisses and licks, rimming the strong sphincter muscle. I was overjoyed. I’d never been able to get a woman to do this to me before. I could feel my cock pulse and my balls pull tightly back in to my body. It was ecstasy, even more so when her hand began to tug and pump my prick. She had such strong yet sensual hand movements. I was in heaven! I could hear my guttural sounds growing and growing, deep from within me but I was also aware that she was groaning too. She was getting off on my pleasure. I’d never known a woman so loving and caring for me, totally focused on me being satisfied.
Her tongue was deep in my arse then around the rim. I was so relaxed and open for her. It was late afternoon when I found her shop so she obviously didn’t care about the sweat and the shit I’d accumulated through the day. No, she just wanted me to have pleasure. Her hand was as incessant as her tongue; teasing, pulling, wanking, stroking, playing with me in such a sensual way, and all the time she and I moaned and groaned with our own pleasures.
Then it came. I could not hold out any longer.
“I’m going to come,” I shouted, yes shouted.
In a flash she had moved between my legs, twisting her head to take me and suck me hard into her mouth again, but this time she had two fingers hard up my anus. When I came I was ecstatic, her mouth taking and swallowing my cum and my arse stretched and full with her finger fuck.
“Oh, Carly, Carly, you darling woman…”
No more slut for her. Her sexuality was unquestionable, she was the princess of sex in my eyes. So, when she licked up every drop of my cum, then insisted on lying me on the couch and washing me, I was at peace for the first time in a long while. I was content to watch her move around the motorhome, totally confident and completely nude. She had no thoughts of getting dressed. I was allowed to see one of the country’s most famous athletes naked, with muscles most men would be envious of. I knew her deepest secret and had no desire to share them, even though I was a well-respected journalist in my own right. Well, come on, if I reported on her what was she going to say about me for Christ’s sake? She was taking huge risks anyway, or was that the thrill? I had to ask her.
“Carly, why do you come here and set up such an elaborate scene to do what you most want?”
There was silence as she walked towards me, a cup of tea in each hand, her breasts dancing and swaying as she approached.
“Well, it all started with…”
I’ll tell you more another day.