Loading...My name is Kay. I’m a 31 year-old, happily un-married middle-class white woman with a marvelous life – except for being addicted to sex. Maybe it’s only the risk factor that I’m addicted to. I honestly don’t know, but I do know I’ll sometimes take awful risks to anonymously and spontaneously fuck total strangers. There, now that I have that part out of the way maybe I can also be honest with the rest of what I want to explain.
I know the risks of STDs, and all about women being harmed or even killed by someone they’ve casually bumped into on the street or met on the internet, but I can’t seem to stop my risky behavior. I have a good education and make an obscene amount of money working for a high-profile company. If my abhorrent behavior became known I’d be fired immediately.
I was an only child of a traditional, deeply religious family, and I lived at home until after completing college. IN my family, sex was a subject never discussed openly, so I admit I was naïve; therefore, easy prey for any predator. When I was eighteen, an uncle (now deceased) finally introduced me to sex, albeit unwillingly.
A beloved member of our family and deeply admired for his personal achievements and charity work, he was a locally well-known philanthropist, and all-around do-gooder. To my dad, he was a hero, and that was one of the problems. I knew my dad loved him beyond all others. Everyone did, I guess. How could I come forward with my allegations and wreck that?
So I’d suffered in silence, the unwanted incest lasting for a couple years – long enough to scar me for life. Toward the end I admit that I was pretty much a willing participant, guiltily not wanting anyone to find out. My last two years of college I lived in a dorm. He visited me a few times just before his death, renting a hotel room for us, where we would spend the entire weekend without leaving the room, just eating and fucking our eyeballs out!
When it finally ended with his death, I probably knew more about sex than most other young women my age – oral, anal, you name it. My uncle had awakened a ravaging hunger, eating away at me from the inside, and when he died I found others who could fill my needs. I now know that my uncle was a selfish, despicable person, a pervert, and to me, he will always be the Boogieman – the monster that lives under a victim’s bed or inside their closets.
Due to rheumatic fever as a small child, I was sickly and thin most of my life. Even during high school I was still pretty thin, but starting to fill out some, and already feeling like a woman. I suppose I was pretty immature for my age though, due to my parents strictness, and not a clue about sex or the outside world. Heck, I wore pig-tails and no make-up until I was well into high school.
After I’d graduated high school I took a while off from studies to contemplate my career course. It was about the time I entered college, my uncle began molesting me. Okay, you might say that I was eighteen and already a young adult, but remember, I’d been sheltered from this kind of stuff my entire life.
Uncle Zeke was a widower and lived about a hundred miles away, so he’d stay with us on some weekends so Mom could ensure he got a good meal. It started out mild enough, just touching my breasts or butt when nobody else was looking. Then he sneaked into my bedroom late one night after everybody else was sleeping, and invaded my body with his fingers. The next time he stayed over the weekend, he held me down and used his mouth and tongue on my vagina. Gradually he worked up to the main event, and took my virginity. I cried for a week.
In some ways, he stole my young adulthood from me. The more he abused me, the younger and more helpless I felt! I used to hide my head under the covers at night, breathing fearfully while listening as my bedroom door opened softly, then a subtle weight on the side of my bed, a rough hand under the blanket – the dreaded whisker stubble scrapping the tender insides of my thighs – a tongue, warm, wet and probing – the pleasure-laced embarrassment as I ultimately became an active participant in my own debasement.
The result of my uncle’s deviant behavior was in essence, a life sentence for me. Now a successful accomplished adult woman, I have uncontrollable behavioral patterns and a self-destructive personality, still suffering the consequences of his aberrant actions. A woman I might add, who doesn’t have the guts to blow her own brains out or jump off a high bridge – so she seeks to literally do it “inch-by-inch” with strangers until she’s eventually cast out by all who know and love her.
So far my secret’s safe, but I know it’s only a matter of time until my life blows up in my face. After receiving counselling later in life I was made to realize this is a normal feeling for victims. I always seem to be searching for something I can’t quite identify, and probably can never find. I’m told my fantasies concerning being used by rude intimidating men with over-sized penises, most likely come from the fact that to someone who’s never participated in sex, all penises appear big and menacing. For that reason alone, even a normal-sized penis would have seemed gigantic to someone so naïve!
Maybe that’s true, maybe not, but true or not I continue my self-destructive search for a monster cock that will someday split me wide-open, allowing my miserable life to drain away, thereby ending my pitiful existence before I hurt those I admire and love the most.
I was married for three years right after college, and unbelievable as it may sound I never cheated on Tony, although he had numerous affairs that I eventually found out about. I now have a boyfriend, or fiancé, if you prefer, but we have made no plans to be married. That is mostly due to personal reluctance based upon my own “issues,” and bracing myself for an uncertain future. I have had dozens of trysts with total strangers since meeting him, most of them forgettable encounters with faceless men, but a few escapades that are etched indelibly into my mind in ways I’ll never forget.
My behavior has resulted in something bordering on physical and mental erosion; one gang-rape, multiple sexual debasements, and abject humiliation – but I can’t stop doing it. I always crawl away from these encounters immediately after fucking someone, or having been severely battered, feeling worthless, filthy and used. That doesn’t stop me from returning for more.
Outwardly, you’d never know of the turmoil and uncertainty that lingers behind the façade of this well-dressed, educated female. One of my problems is I’m not overweight or ugly. In fact, I’m attractive and men want me. My grandmother was from Syria, and I have some of the same classic middle-eastern features she had. I’m five-six, creamy skin, slender-built but with a perky 35 inch bust, dark, shoulder-length hair, high cheekbones and, unaccountably large green eyes. Upon initially meeting people, they expect to see brown eyes staring back at them, and the pools of green in my olive complexion, suddenly stuns them. I have full pouty lips and have always thought my mouth too large, but the men I’ve known can’t wait to taste it.
Call me vain, but a woman can usually see in a man’s eyes when he mentally undresses her, and sometimes, even by the tent subtly forming in the front of his trousers. I have to look good all the time, spending a lot of what I earn on designer clothes and beauty salons, because my job requires me to travel and meet people and organizations that our company frequently deals with. I won’t describe what the business is because it might be recognized and I don’t want that.
Being attractive and well-dressed I can easily attract men, and as soon as they realize what I want, their animal urges kick in and there is no stopping them. The image comes to mind of something I saw at a park one day: a pack of male dogs after a bitch in-heat that they could all smell. Not pretty, but fairly accurate. I know I set-off unique jibes with the men I meet; a casual stare at a stranger in a hotel lounge, the airport, an underground parking garage, or simply walking down the street, is all it takes sometimes.
Once, it’d even involved another woman. Somehow she’d sensed how vulnerable and susceptible I was to intimidation and simply forced the issue in a ladies restroom in the Mall. Remaining forever anonymous, she’d then walked out leaving me sitting there on a commode, my face streaked with her body fluids and my own tears, quaking from several gigantic orgasms I’d just experienced. At least it let me experience something like what I’ve been responsible a dozen times, for doing to strange men. My uncontrollable behavior was also responsible for my one and only gang rape one night. I constantly try blocking that harrowing experience completely from my mind.
There have been times when I met a strange man for the first time and was fucking him five minutes later – only to hastily straighten-up my disarranged clothing once it was over, and quickly walk away while he was still trying to catch his breath! I sometimes wonder how long it had taken before he realized he didn’t even know my name. My specialty is what I subliminally think of as my “drive-by” blow-job! Talk about leaving them in shock!
I know what you’re thinking. By now, you have a vision of a trashy white woman on the prowl, constantly looking for a hard cock to munch on – any cock. Nothing could be farther from the truth. Sometimes I go for days or even weeks without the familiar overpowering urge kicking in. Then, something happens that triggers my secret fetish – a stern look, a rude word, Uncle Zeke’s eyes in a complete stranger’s face – and suddenly I can’t stop fantasizing about what his hidden penis must look like! The urge grows ever stronger until I am compelled to act! It’s as if at that point I can’t help myself!
The lady I talk to once a month about my problem has told me that I share this trait with many other people – especially victims. Some of them, both men and women, are addicted to porn or have other compelling fetishes or fantasies they feel they must live-out. Even “straight” married men may fantasize about performing oral sex on other men, until they can’t resist the urge to visit a bath-house or adult theater and make that fantasy come true. They may not even be gay.
Some people are exhibitionists or voyeurs; some want to watch their spouses have sex with another person, or even more than one person; some want to have sex with a family member. It’s a strange world out there with lots of personal ideas about sex. I consider mine to be a self-destructive sickness, one that I can’t seem to stop.
Sometimes after a lengthy period of not even thinking about it I might wrongly think I have turned the corner, and finally have things under control. Then bam! Some big, rude jerk suddenly growls at me, my legs start to tremble and I soil my panties. To some, it might seem that any good-looking well-built man would get my juices to flowing, but that is not the case. In fact, the reverse seems to be true. Big, ugly brutish men who treat me like shit, is my downfall. Men like Uncle Zeke.
My uncle passed away when I was in college or he’d probably still be controlling me. I say “controlling” because that’s what he did. I remember Uncle Zeke as a big man, but I was always small and slender so I suppose everybody looked big to me. I’ve put on a little more height in the last few years and now wear mostly heels which also adds height. That doesn’t stop me from being a stammering little fool every time some strange man snarls at me.
I’ve mostly forgotten his facial features, but I do remember that Uncle Zeke’s head was shaved, and he had a very wide nose and big heavily-lidded, bug-like eyes. I also remember he had thick black hair all over his arms, and most of his body. He would sometimes stop right in the middle of sexually using me to wrap his large fingers around my throat, tightening them, threatening to choke me if I ever told anyone about our “secret.”
On the verge of climaxing and my air closed off for almost a minute, it would scare me half to death – and excite me to no end! I came to expect it each time he fucked me and at the last, even began to relish it! Yes, he totally intimidated and controlled me, and that still seems to be one of the main ingredients required to stoke my libido!
That’s what happened in the five minute blow-job I mentioned above. It was the first time since becoming an adult that I’d succumbed to my deviant impulses letting my unnatural urges overpower me. It had left me scared, shaken to my core. It would prove to be the first of many more to follow, each growing more risky – and therefore more intense.
I remember it was chilly that day, sometime around the holidays, and the mall parking lot was jammed with cars. I came out of the mall with my hands full of shopping bags, opened the rear door of the Mercedes to discard my packages. My car door accidently banged against the side of an older car next to me. A big scruffy-looking man with a few days growth beard got out of the car and came around to my side screaming profanities and looking threatening. He looked huge! I’m five-six. He must have been at least six-six.
“You stupid fucking cunt!”
I vividly remember him shouting that line specifically, as several people hurried away anxiously looking back over their shoulders. I suddenly realized the lot was deserted and I was alone with this wild man! I stammered that I was sorry and would pay if there were any damages to his car, but he wasn’t about to be placated. My heart was pounding with fear, my mouth filled with cotton, legs trembling violently – it was like I was watching a Cobra about to strike! Then something else started happening between my legs. I was growing wet!
Suddenly grabbing his crotch, he screamed at me, “Eat this, you stupid Bitch!”
It was as if I was staring into the eyes of my uncle Zeke again, fear sweeping me along in its icy grip! My mind just completely shut down as something foreign took control of my body. Suddenly lost in long forgotten memories, I was alone with him again in my cozy little bedroom, and knew exactly what was required to take that crazy look from my Uncle’s eyes – to keep him from choking me.
Outwardly appearing clam but simply on automatic pilot, I walked over and knelt in front of the angry man. Staring into his eyes as Uncle Zeke had taught me, and with a trembling hand I was sure didn’t even belong to me, I unzipped his pants and reached inside. Startled, he stopped in the middle of a vile epitaph, staring down in amazement at this crazy woman who had taken his limber penis inside her mouth, hungrily working her traitorous tongue around the thick crown.
The temperature was in the upper forties so my mouth must have felt very hot, because he was completely hard in less than a minute. In a couple more minutes he was destroying my beauty-parlor hair-do with his hands, whimpering like a little boy. He shot his load quickly. It was weak, watery, and bitterly salty. I clutched the backs of his legs as I sucked him dry, my lips and tongue dutifully working his cock, making little purring sounds as I swallowed all of it, savoring it like it was sweet cream. Then I stood and wiped my mouth on the back of my hand, got into the Mercedes and drove away. In the rearview mirror I saw him leaning weakly against his car staring after me, apparently still in shock!
The taste of his semen remained in my mouth and throat all the way home. Sick to my stomach I berated myself even as I realized there hadn’t been a thing I could’ve done to prevent it from happening. What the hell had I been thinking? What if a cop had come by? Or Mall Security? I’d be in jail right now! I’d lose my job, my friends would probably read about it, and my family would be devastated!
Even as I chastised myself, I felt one traitorous hand slide under my short hem and locate the hairless lips of my swollen vagina. My clit was sticking out like a small penis! I sit in my driveway for a while, stroking several fingers in and out of the sloppy wetness and rolling my fingers around my swollen clit until I doubled over the steering wheel in a shuddering climax!
Embarrassed and fearful some of the neighbors might’ve seen me I rushed inside where I hurriedly brushed my teeth and showered, scrubbing furiously to feel clean again. It wasn’t my body that was dirty. I couldn’t seem to get the image of what I’d done, out of my mind! I might have gotten that strange man off with a hungry blow-job, but afterward my vagina had been burning up! That night in bed I practically attacked my boyfriend Mike, and for the first time in our relationship, swallowed his sperm greedily as I relived that event at the mall over and over in my mind.
Usually both of us are one-a-night types, but I didn’t let his cock slide out of my mouth until it grew hard again, and then I climbed on top and rode him to a shuddering climax! I don’t think he even came a second time, but I’m pretty sure he was shocked by my uncharacteristic performance that night!
The weather grew warmer and I didn’t do anything remotely like that for a while but it was never very far from my mind, constantly eating away at me the urges grew stronger daily, until I subsequently lost control once more. The second time was easier. I have to say that I don’t think Mike has a clue about my proclivities, because over time I have become very resourceful and inventive in my selections. Like a serial killer, it’s always quick, random and anonymous – and I never leave clues. I only pray I don’t give him a STD or something. I know I should leave him for his own protection, but I love the man and except for the times I grow crazy with this sickness, our life together is wonderful!
My boyfriend loves me, but for the past year our sex life has been pretty sparse. Mike is twelve years older than me, in his early forties, and works very hard. They say as a man ages his sex drive lessens, but that a woman’s sex drive increases with age. Such is the total incompatibility of the human species. Mike recently confided in me that I felt “looser” and he didn’t feel that he satisfied me as much as before. I quickly convinced him that he did. His penis is a nice size for any man and I truly enjoy it, but I suppose the hammering I occasionally take from over-sized penises will eventually take its toll. I frequently make it up to Mike with my mouth, so he never complains.
There are lots of misadventures I could write about but I’ll just stick to the most bizarre one I’ve ever experienced, which happened soon after that first encounter in the Mall’s parking lot. It’s one of the most radically bizarre encounters ever to happen to me and I still struggle to explain it, or my own weird behavior, even to myself.
Near one of the branch offices I’m required to visit at least once a month, is a small antique store I’d noticed several times. I’m not big on antiques, but I needed something tasteful for one area in my home, a small end table for the entry hallway. A Victorian style piece seemed like the best idea to hold a colorful lamp.
The store is on the block between the parking lot and our business office, so one day on my way to the branch office I ambled in to look around. Inside, the store was much larger than I’d previously thought. While very narrow on the street-front, it stretches almost a block deep with narrow, crooked isles piled so high with various items, there barely seems enough room to squeeze through.
Spring had arrived and I was dressed in what appeared to be a simple, flared yellow dress, but actually one that cost a mint. I wore matching canary-yellow heels, and a white leather purse, trimmed in the same yellow color. It all somehow worked. My dark hair was piled high on top with several ringlets framing my face. It looked casual but had required hours in a beauty shop to achieve the desired effect. Completely secure behind my large dark designer sunglasses, I was aware that I had drawn the stares of men all along my route, and knew I’d make a good impression on the people I was to meet at the branch office.
A grossly overweight man behind the register was sitting on a tall stool so he could keep an eye on the front entrance. He was a good three hundred pounds, his fat unpleasant face barely acknowledging my entrance at first, but then his piggish eyes greedily following me as I meandered around the store. I felt as if he were undressing me with his stare, growing more uncomfortable by the minute. I tried calming this sudden unexplained feeling, surreptitiously looking for a water fountain to moisten my dry mouth.
After traversing up and down a couple isles I saw something like the piece I’d envisioned, stuffed behind several other articles. I walked back to the register with more than a little trepidation, steeled myself and said, “I’m interested in something like that small Victorian table on isle five. Would you have anything similar, only perhaps, smaller?”
He grinned, looking ugly, his tiny eyes sliding over my body obscenely, drawing a shiver of revulsion for his rudeness. “I might, Honey.” He jerked his jowly head toward the rear of the store. “In storage, back there. Don’t know if it’s still there or not but it was last week. Want to take a look?”
Revolted by his entire demeanor I suddenly wanted to run, but I seemed to be rooted to the spot. “I . . . I don’t want to be . . . any trouble . . .” I said stupidly, suddenly feeling very small, overwhelmed by his massive size and oppressive demeanor.
“No trouble for a pretty girl like you. Come on, Sweetie. Follow me.” He waddled off toward the rear of the store.
I stared after him and then back toward the front door, and for just an instant I was about to dart for it. By then he’d reached a rear doorway and stood looking at me. “Well? Do you want it, or not?” he growled, sending a chill through me. Unaware it was even happening my feet began to follow him.
He led me into a small room literally crammed with all sorts of stuff. I saw it immediately, stuck behind a dresser and chest of drawers. It was exactly what I’d envisioned. “Yes,” I said. “That’s what I had in mind. Can you get it out for me?”
“Well, Honey, as you can see I’m a little large to squeeze into that small space. You want it, you’ll have to crawl back there and get it.”
I glanced back at the door once more, and then mentally thought, “Fuck you, you fat creep.” I vowed I’d not let him intimidate me into leaving without what I’d come for.
I attempted moving the chest out of the way first, finding it too far too heavy for me. So, I went around to the other side and tried lifting the table I wanted, over the much lower dresser. I had to bend over and practically lay on the dresser top to reach it, but it still wouldn’t budge. I turned around and caught the guy stooped over a little, hands on his knees. He’d been looking under my skirt!
My face flaming, I fumed. “I’ve changed my mind. I don’t need it.”
He was standing in the narrow space between me and the door now, and it looked like he had no intention of moving his bulk out of the way. I wilted as his gaze roamed freely over my quacking body, lingering on my heaving breasts, mentally licking my legs, totally undressing me with his eyes. I could feel my pulse pounding inside my throat, my mouth too dry to spit.
“Just wasting my time, huh? What is it with hootie-tootie women like you? Think you’re better than anyone else?”
My heart was hammering inside my chest as though trying to get out, making it difficult to breathe. I wanted to run, but my feet had suddenly turned to wood! If there had been a doorway right behind me and easy to exit, my trembling legs wouldn’t have allowed it.
“Please move,” I muttered in a tiny voice. “Please . . .?”
I swear I was looking into my dead uncle’s eyes! My memory told me these eyes looked exactly the same as Uncle Zeke’s; smoldering, hot, hungry, merciless. I took a step backward, coming up against the end of the dresser. Helpless tears stung my eyes making everything turn a little blurry, but I was still able to see him rubbing his groin through his baggy soiled pants, grinning like he knew my secret. I realized with a start that he was hard!
“Please,” I whimpered pitifully. “I really do have to go.” Even to my own ears, it sounded like a frightened little girl speaking.
“You want to leave, I ain’t stopping you. Come on past me, and go.”
I inched toward the small space between him and the stacks of stuff around us but then without even willing it, my deceitful eyes uncontrollably dropped to the obvious tent in the front of his baggy trousers. It was as if he’d been waiting for some sort of signal, for when he saw me staring, his grin suddenly broadened, showing bad teeth.
Freezing in place like a scared bunny rabbit, I watched in horror as he slowly unzipped the front of his pants, reached inside and extracted a huge veined cock! His eyes never left my face the entire time. He slowly stroked the inflating slab of fat meat as it grew stiff and purple, pulling the uncut foreskin back from the crown, and then allowing it to cover the tiny hole in the tip again – as though winking at my folly.
My lips were dry enough to crack and I desperately wanted to lick them, but somehow I knew that would be a mistake! I also knew I had to start moving, but I couldn’t. My feet felt like they were encased in concrete. I suddenly felt my tongue easing out to lick my dry lips.
The fat man smirked. “All you high class cunts look down your noses at guys like me. Well, look down your nose at this!” he said, holding his rigid cock out towards me, squeezing it until the crown turned purple!
It was something my late uncle might’ve said or done. He’d been cruel and nasty just as this guy was. Maybe the fat man was a rapist, too. A shiver ran up my spine at the thought. I was suddenly back in my parent’s house, in my bedroom with Uncle Zeke again, sniffing as hot tears stung my eyes, sliding down my cheeks. I felt as if I might pee myself with fear. There was a loud ringing sound inside my head, heart beating away like a drummer on steroids and my dry mouth was suddenly and unaccountably watering as I stared at this fat throbbing cock. I felt my womanhood gushing fluid, drenching my panties. He smirked again because knew he had me. He was toying with me.
Maintaining eye contact, he unbuckled his trousers and pushed them down along with his shorts, to puddle around his spindly ankles. Rolls of blubber rippled around his ribs, a disgusting slab of belly fat almost hiding his stiff penis. Revolted, I was shivering uncontrollably, a small moan escaping my lips. My mind was screaming inside my head . . . no . . . no . . . no! But I was trapped, my eyes glued to his massive genitals; a beer-can-sized cock, huge soft balls covered with the same thick black hair as the rest of his body – the size of grapefruit! I found him repugnant. My mouth watered.
“I bet you want to touch it, don’t you little girl?”
I found myself nodding, sniffling like a scared little girl. I nearly jumped out of my skin as he suddenly growled, “Well? Get your ass over here!”
I scurried closer, dropping to my knees in front of him, his fat cock scant inches from my face. He probably wasn’t as long as Mike but almost twice as thick, large blue veins crisscrossing in every direction, an unbelievably large crown perched on top like a reigning king! Fat man, fat dick, my mind insanely repeated. I caught a whiff of his musk, strong with sweaty body-odor. I tried to pull back from it but his hands were behind my head holding me immobile.
“Take a lick, little girl,” he whispered hoarsely. “See how it tastes. We both know you’re going to, so do it.” His cock jumped a couple times, clear liquid forming on the tip. “Well, what you waiting for?” he growled.
“Yes, Uncle,” I muttered, reaching out dutifully.
Wrapping my fingers around the base, I saw they were almost hidden by his thick black pubic hair. I leaded forward hesitantly as I brought the leaking head to my mouth, the dewy drop about to run-off. Closing my eyes, I opened my mouth as wide as possible taking the fat spongy head inside, feeling it sting my tongue as I glided smoothly over it. I heard him grunt so I just held it there for a moment, sliding my tongue all around the bulbous end, appalled and nauseated by what I was doing – my legs unaccountably slippery against each other from my own body fluids.
I groaned softly, involuntarily pushing my nose against his flabby belly, feeling his fingers tangling themselves in my expensive hairdo. Somehow, I had gotten most of his thick cock down my throat, feeling its bloat forcing my throat muscles apart, closing off the life-giving supply of air. Finally, gagging and at the point of suffocation, I pulled back against his hands until I could breathe again. Gulping several mouthfuls of air I hungrily went right back down on it, forcing it even deeper.
I was suddenly kneeling in front of my uncle again, feeling the comfort of this warm meaty thing sliding over my tongue, filling my throat with its warmth. I felt tears of gratitude flooding my eyes, running down my face as I paid homage to Uncle Zeke, giving him my love as only a victim can rationalize it. Unnoticed slobbers dripped down my chin staining my pretty dress, pre-cum stung my tongue igniting unknown senses and long dormant desires.
I moaned hungrily around the warm thickness, lovingly caressing his soft balls lightly dragging my painted nails across his scrotum. His breathing had changed noticeably, coming much faster and shorter, loud gasps mixed in, his fat thighs trembling so hard, it appeared he might fall.
But still he clung to my head, gripping it like a vice, pulling my nose tightly against his belly flab – holding it there completely buried inside my working throat, as I was forced to suck precious air through my nose. I was making little noises too, whimpers, tiny grunts of pleasure as he produced an increasing amount of pre-cum for my taste-buds. My traitorous hands slid up the backs of his huge hairy legs, slim fingers clutching his sagging ass-cheeks, freshly painted nails digging in hard enough to draw blood, pulling him deeper.
Disgusted, yet unable to stop, I sensed he was close to erupting inside my sucking mouth and I was finally faced with having to swallow this dirty, fat stranger’s semen. Somehow, one of my wayward hands had returned to clutch his soft hairy balls, and I felt them tightening, drawing up as I gagged on the oversized crown lodged deep in my throat. A continuous flood of watery pre-cum ran freely down my throat, intoxicating, tantalizingly sweet – and then his body went completely stiff, crying out his release as he flooded my mouth with a steady stream of thick lumpy sperm.
It coated my teeth, clinging to the roof of my mouth and then like a slimy snake, making its way down my throat to nest in my warm tummy. Just as I thought he was through, he released another lumpy mouthful, forcing me swallow quickly, clutching him to me in order to swallow it all. Some escaped the corner of my mouth anyway, running down my chin, but I didn’t stop until nothing else leaked from the hole in the tip. It seemed endless, as I floated weightlessly in space, my only anchor the hand gripping his large hairy balls, as I savored his release, satisfied with the knowledge that I had pleased my Uncle Zeke.
As the salty flood eventually abated, he went soft quickly as I held his limp cock inside my mouth, only reluctantly releasing it after he forcibly pushed my head away, pulling my mouth from it with a tiny moan of protest. Sick and disgusted, the taste of his spent seed still in my mouth I sat with my head bowed, my destroyed hairdo hiding my tears. Tears, slobbers and semen streamed uncontrollably down my face, streaking my carefully applied makeup. I was wrenched, a complete wreck as I squeezed my thighs tightly in an attempt to ease the ache raging down there.
Engorged with blood and sloppy wet, my pussy lips felt swollen and tender – my vagina, empty. That feeling easily overrode any feelings of guilt or revulsion for what I’d just done. I needed . . . I realized I didn’t even know his name . . . him . . . to help me.
His gravelly voice jolted me back to reality. “Pussy still hungry little girl? Follow me.”
He pulled his pants up and holding them in one hand, lumbered away. My pride having deserted me much earlier I hesitated only a moment and then stood and followed like a little puppy dog. He led me to a small room with a dirty mattress on the floor, where he discarded his clothing and plopped down, his fat belly-fat rippling in waves under the thick matted body-hair. His fat limp dick lay meekly against his hairy thigh, its one little eye staring up in amusement at my predicament. Hands folded behind his head, he stared up at me with contempt.
“Get naked little rich cunt. Help me get it hard again and I’ll give you want you’ve been wanting.”
I was ashamed by the haste in which I discarded my dress and underwear, suddenly standing nude in front of this evil stranger, thrills shooting up my spine as I stared at his stirring cock. Dropping to the mattress beside him, my hand involuntarily reached out to grasp the half-inflated staff. He suddenly wrapped his fingers in my fallen hair and pulled my face savagely against his groin, forcing my nose and open mouth against his hairy sacs, still damp from my previous slobbers.
“Lick ’em,” he whispered hoarsely. “Take ’em into your mouth!”
He smelled of stale sweat, strong body odor – and old sex. My stomach lurched violently as he forcibly rubbed my face all around on his sweaty balls, tightening his fingers in my hair and pulling hard enough to make me cry out. That seemed to excite him even more as I felt his penis surging, stiffening.
“Ow . . .!” I cried out.
“Lick . . . ’em!”
To save my scalp from more punishment I hurriedly licked his balls, as he forced my small hand around the base of his growing cock. A hair became stuck in my mouth, so I raked it off my tongue against the base of his cock, and then tenderly sucked another hairy nut back inside my mouth. I began lovingly administering to it with my wet tongue, almost humming with contentment. He grunted to show his gratitude, easing the tight grip on my hair.
With his fat fingers tangled in my hair to show he was still in charge, he pulled me up forcing my mouth to cover one of his sagging nipples. I ran my tongue around the tiny bud, sucking and nibbling for a while as he grunted with pleasure, and then he pulled me upward again to straddle his wide garth, his thick cock-head rubbing against my swollen opening. I nearly swooned, reaching under me to guide him where I wanted it.
Lifting up I felt the soft crown pushing insistently against my pussy lips, forcing them aside, friction burning them, pain mixed with pleasure. It would not be denied. It was like my uncle was entering me for that first time, again. I remembered it well, the dark room, the entire house quiet and everyone else sleeping.
“Don’t cry, Niece,” my uncle had whispered in my ear that first time he violated me late one night. “It’ll hurt just a little and then it’ll be alright.”
He’d been right. It had hurt, and after that I was able to associate pain with pleasure. Reliving that first time again, I needed both pain and pleasure at the moment. I pushed down on the fat man’s stiffness – wanting it – needing it badly! His huge cock-head finally popped inside and almost oblivious to the discomfort its unusual thickness was causing me, I let my body weight and gravity do its job until I was completely impaled.
Motionless and unable to move, I let it soak, resting my hands against his fat chest, damp tangled hair covering my face as I tried adjusting to his immense thickness. He savagely twisted my nipple and I cried out in pain and surprise.
“Move your little ass!” he growled ruthlessly.
I slowly eased off his cock until only the crown remained inside, and then carefully slid back down its stuffy length, expecting a lot of pain. It was a little painful, but the thrill of being so completely filled with cock, far outweighed any discomfort. In a short time I was using my hands and hips to heave my body up and down on his stationary cock, twisting and rolling my ass frantically, desperately seeking release!
Gasping through half-opened lips, spittle beginning to run from the corner of my mouth I glanced at him through glazed, heavily-lidded eyes, half-expecting to see Uncle Zeke’s face. Having already climaxed once, the fat man was simply lying with his arms folded behind his head clinically watching my frantic gyrations on his motionless cock, with vast amusement. As I slid up and down the hard unmoving appendage desperately rotating my ass, he silently observed me like I was like a bug on a spit – smirking at my predicament!
I closed my eyes so I wouldn’t have to look at his ugly face, and suddenly he became Uncle Zeke. “Ooooh . . . yes, Uncle . . . yes . . .” I whispered.
His hands were now on my breasts, tugging cruelly at my nipples, twisting, hurting me. I didn’t care. Hurt me, I wanted to scream! I didn’t care if he killed me. I deserved it! I took his hands and brought them up to my throat forcing his fat fingers around my windpipe, helping him squeeze, cutting of my air supply. He started doing it on his own then, sadistically squeezing until I was almost blue, making me gasp for air as my head swirled, and then letting me breathe a bit before doing it again.
He just kept doing that over and over, his thick cock pulsating inside me with each squeeze of his fingers. I know now that it was only feeding into my suicidal fantasies of dying on an over-sized cock, but at the time it felt so right – and extremely erotic.
That pushed me over the limit of my endurance, the climax hitting like a giant tidal wave, just slamming into me, taking my breath away, doubling me over in its intensity and causing my heart to stop for just an instant! Sobbing, clutching his fat body with my thighs, alternately screaming and making little obscene grunts, I strained to draw every bit of pleasure I could from his fat dick!
Somewhere in the middle of it all he pulled my face down, his sloppy mouth swallowing mine as his tongue stabbed inside my lips like a tiny penis. I rolled my hips on his meaty cock, sliding around his soft belly in my expelled juices, as I sucked the meaty invader deeper into my oral cavity, chasing it back into his mouth when it finally withdrew, searching hungrily for it with my own probing tongue.
Only afterwards, as I lay on his wide belly, trembling and basking in the deep-vagina climax I’d just experienced, did I realize he hadn’t cum. Nibble for a fat man, he flipped me onto my stomach, knelt behind me, lifted my hips and slammed his still hard cock inside my tender vagina. Too exhausted from my intense orgasm to resist I shook my head side-to-side in a silent plea for mercy.
My vagina felt swollen and tender, almost raw from the bashing it’d just received. I finally found my voice, gasping in pain. “Nh . . .n . . . no. . . please . . .” I muttered over and over as he plummeted into my core.
It seemed as he’d get close to cumming he would suddenly freeze, holding my hips in his large hands, breathing heavily for a minute or two. After a short time, he’d start easing himself in and out again, drawing my vagina walls out as far as they would go and then pushing them back in. He would work himself almost into frenzy, and then slow down and do it all over again. This went on for a long time. I finally found myself helping him violate me, lifting my ass, making it easy for him as he thrust violently inside my tender core – rotating my hips, trying to hold his cock buried deep inside, grunting with pleasure, clutching and biting the dirty mattress as I moaned in desperation.
“Yes . . . yes . . . Uncle . . . ag . . . yes . . . do . . . help . . . aggg . . . ” I realized I was speaking incoherently, continuously, not even understanding my own words.
“I’ll be your uncle, little girl. What’s your uncle’s name?” he said thrusting extra hard as I grunted. When I didn’t answer he pulled out until only the bloated head remained inside. I rotated my ass, searching its fullness again, but he held back. “The name?” he insisted.
“Zeke,” I muttered, defeated. “Uncle Zeke.”
“Good. From now on, I’m Uncle Zeke. Tell me. Do you want Uncle Zeke to let you cum now?”
“Yes! Please! Please.”
He used his fat cock like a jackhammer, bruising the tender tissue of my vagina walls, pushing it relentlessly aside as he plowed forward, stretching it wider to accommodate his thickness. Between our legs I could see his hairy balls swinging under us, looking like coconuts ready to fall. I reached back and grasped them, squeezing lovingly, whispering, “Yes, Uncle Zeke. Yes.”
He had tremendous staying power the second time around, bringing me to another, and then yet another mind-blowing orgasm. It was the first time I’d ever had multiple orgasms. He finally reached a point of no return and also came, shoving a wide thumb into my puckered anus as he shot his load, splashing against my cervix like a water hose. My ass wet and sloppy with our combined fluids, I continued to slowly rotate it against his slimy belly-fat long after his cock grew soft, savoring the comfort it gave me, knowing that soon I’d have to face what I’d just done.
As his limp cock slipped from my battered vagina, it felt rawer than even before, possibly torn. Grunting with effort, he stood and as a final act of degradation wiped his wet cock on my ass cheeks, displaying his contempt for me. That was fine. I was a slut. No better than a bitch stray-dog.
I felt sick. Just like I had after each time Uncle Zeke had used me. I watched as the fat man ambled away, leaving me to drag my aching body up and get dressed. I found my yellow shoes and located a small bathroom, one almost as filthy as its owner. I pulled the once pretty, but now soiled dress over my head, horrified as I looked into the broken mirror.
My hairdo had been totally destroyed, my face streaked with tear tracks and smeared with mascara! I was a total wreck! I suddenly remembered my appointment, searching frantically inside my purse for the cellphone. I spoke with the secretary, quickly making some lame excuse for missing the meeting, rang off, and then attempted to repair the damage. I used tissue to clean the worst spots off my dress, and fresh lipstick helped a little.
As I weakly stumbled toward the front of the store, my pussy felt so sore and swollen that I could barely walk! “Uncle Zeke” stood near the door, smirking coldly, his tiny mean eyes shining unnaturally.
“The next time you come, Uncle Zeke’s gonna butt-fuck you. Fuck you up that tight little virgin asshole, you think’s so fine.” He laughed, his belly quivering. “Hell, you may even learn to like taking it like that.”
Almost in hysterics, shaking my head frantically I opened the door and stepped through to freedom. “No. No more. I won’t be back. Ever!” I almost ran, getting away from there.
I heard him laughing as I tentatively made my way back to where I’d parked. Near exhaustion from my ordeal, I soaked for an hour in the tub that night. I felt sore for days – like a used whore.
Nothing happened for a couple months. I vowed to never let myself be in that situation again. Fortunately, the branch meeting was cancelled the following month so I didn’t even have to see the damn store again either. The night before my next branch meeting I went to sleep dreading the next day’s appointment. I awoke the following morning already thinking a
bout my earlier debasement by that repulsive fat man. In fact, it had been in my restless dreams. My face burned with shame as I recalled how I’d called him “Uncle Zeke,” begging him to use me, seeking my pleasure from the most repulsive man I’d ever known – and how terribly sore and utterly disgusted I’d been afterward.
Parking my car in the usual parking lot, I walked past the antique store totally ignoring it, but in my mind, reliving that awful experience in its entirety. Remembering how the fat man had threatened to “butt fuck” me, my sphincter involuntarily clinched tightly.
Shivering with dread, my legs trembling, and my mouth suddenly dry as cotton I lengthened my stride until I was well past it, though still shuddering with revulsion. His thumb inserted back there had been painful enough. If he’d actually forced his immense cock inside my butt-hole instead, it would’ve torn me apart – maybe even have killed me.
All through the meeting I had difficulty focusing of the speaker’s material. My mind raced wildly inside my head; images of me on my knees having my hair pulled, being slapped me in the face by his fat cock as I desperately sought to capture it with my mouth – his slimy-wet blubbery fat resting on my ass cheeks while he recovered from his orgasm, the relentless pounding I’d received and the awful soreness that followed. I also thought about the disgust that followed, the humiliation I’d suffered, and how he’d degraded me by wiping his nasty cock on me, making me feel like a cheap whore.
Squeezing my thighs tightly, unnoticed by others at the conference table, I felt them squishing together in my unwanted juices. I valiantly fought the intrusion, trying harder to focus on what the speaker was saying, praying for it to end. Catching just a faint whiff of female sex I also prayed no one at the conference table had an over-sensitive sense of smell. If they did, I was busted!
I finally chastised myself sufficiently enough that I was able to present my portion of the briefing without faltering. Then quickly stuffing things back into my briefcase, I exited, mumbling something about commute traffic.
After the meeting wrapped-up I headed back to my car, once again approaching the antique store with a sense of foreboding, my anxiety level skyrocketing as soon as it came into view. As I walked past, it took all my will-power to keep from looking inside. I knew if I did, I was lost.
Weak and trembling I made it to the end of the block and paused, taking a moment to close my eyes and lean against a building in an attempt to regroup. I was still having trouble breathing, my heart-rate at an unbelievable level – my panties sticking to me.
Stop it! I shouted inside my head. Stop . . . the . . . fuck . . . it! An elderly woman passed by and gave me a puzzled look, and I forced a smile in return. I simply had to get a grip on myself!
Deep in a mental quagmire, I walked past the store two more times before I finally just opened the door and went inside. “Uncle Zeke” sat on his familiar stool leering at me as I approached, causing my stomach to lurch. My face was burning like fire, my legs weak and trembling as a foreign entity took control of my body. A single drop of moisture escaped my sopping panties and slid down the inside of one thigh, making me finally realize the futility of more resistance.
“Hi, little girl. Come back to get some of what I promised you?”