Free erotic stories by bawdybloke on AdultRead
Even when she travelled to my house for the New Year celebrations at my family's modest abode and we spent the night naked in my double bed, curled up together and holding each other tight as we drifted away into slumber, we could be nothing more than a rich girl with a poor friend. I wasn't allowed to use their swimming pool until I removed my swimming trunks and then Katherine's stepmother openly admired my package, drawing attention to it's "cute hang." My friend giggled, rubbing her hand over my shaft and openly jerking my cock into an erection to flirt.
I wanted someone to breathe warmth onto my balls and then float their lips over my genitals to kiss my shaft, sucking the pre-cum leaking into my briefs as I worked Emit into a groaning mess of desperate lust. They played in the colours of their national flag: royal blue shirts, black shorts and white socks, and the young lady who caught my eye looked sexy as she lined up in the midfield, barely looking at me as Tallinn New Boys started the game to rapturous cheering from the crowd. The camera crew watched the young Lee and Dmitri spit-roast their Welsh captain, while another filmed the passionate oral given by their cock-loving goalkeeper.
It was the first week of September and my defensive centre-back pointed to me in training, that as we lost our last four matches of the previous campaign, plus the Summer break and the match this year, it had been almost six months since our team had last tasted victory. My girlfriend had teased me relentlessly since our defeat to Sunnyside Cross FC, as I had spent half-an-hour, along with most of my team-mates having the erect cocks of the victorious team in places where no straight man would voluntarily choose to have them. I got pulled towards the bench by their captain: a bald-headed half-naked man of imposing muscles and a deep, raspy voice. My team-mates were being fucked; screams, cries and groans filled the room as The Cock Inn claimed their victory.
She was only just eligible: the rules stated that the Rose Queen must be a teenager and Nina was nineteen years and eleven months, but she had been selected from a pool of fifty eager young ladies, each one desperate to be crowned at the annual summer fair. It was a serious honour: the Rose Queen had status in the village, influence in the local parish and duties in the local church. "Although he's getting a big surprise." Her eyes gleamed as she lifted the wide dress to her waist to reveal an eight-inch strap-on dildo, hidden beneath the vast gown of her silk garment.
She is my dream; my cock surging as I feel fingers tapping lightly on my genitals, gripping my shaft and running her touch delicately over my head. But I know this, and the slide of her hand over my cock as her fingers close around my nipple and her words batter my dignity, causes my arousal to surge. Sweet music to my ears: the evil cry of my mistress, laughing as my body thrashes to her tune: the angry pain engulfing me, the gentle jerking of my cock and the evil look in her eyes. I could feel every part of her lusciousness, smiling as her hands smacked my legs and her fingers patted gently on my cock.
He nodded; it was true: salacious chatter had come easily to them as they talked daily for hours, but nerves had wrestled his confidence into submission when the two had met in person for the first time. "You naughty girl!" He exclaimed, loudly into the restaurant, causing a handful of heads to turn. I'm going to spank you so hard, you won't be able to sit down for a week without being reminded of your gluttonous indiscretions. As you beg and whimper, cry and squeal, I'm going to hit you harder. "Then I'm going to take you back to my flat and have you screaming in pleasure and pain, watching your eyes dilate as your body bounces from orgasmic fire to agonising welts.
They watched as I looked apologetically to Dmitri: why did all the games I play always end with the losing party giving oral sex?! Dmitri's warm mouth swirled over the head of my cock, sucking my length into him with zeal. He groaned as I tucked my tongue under his cock-head and grabbed hold of his thigh, leveraging my mouth onto his prick with increasing enthusiasm. But I was entranced: transfixed by the sounds and tastes, sights, smells and textures of Dmitri's cock in my mouth. My mouth opened slightly, seeing the parting of his shorts inches from my eyes as my lips were poked by the helmet of his cock. They wanted to enjoy my humiliation, as my hands trembled over my cock.
The slick glissade of my torso as I submerge into the dirt sends makes you feverishly wild; I've seen the bush shake to your lustful rhythm, savouring the graceful slipping and sliding of my body as I move around my trough, coating every last inch of my rubber catsuit in the earthy mixture. I take a deep breath as I slip under the water line, closing my eyes as my body is submerged for a few moments before returning to the surface, wiping my vision free to look directly at the bush. I can see you staring in awe through the bush, waiting for me to climb out of the mud and walk bare-arsed back to the house while you admire my naked body one last time.
I tasted it, the bitter fluid, a pea of pre-cum forming on my tastebuds as I sucked his manly scent in; his pubic hair tickled my nose, his hands rubbing the back of my head as I closed my eyes and bobbed, allowing him to guide my head further and further onto his cock. I waited for his final twitch and jerk as he pulled against my head, pressing his cock deep into my mouth before several pulses spewed his cum into my throat. Spanking rule is friendlies too, ain't it?" Dino grunted, nodding as our goalkeeper's mouth swept the captain into a vocal climax that covered our guy's face in pearlescent goo.
I was led into the busy green room where Dave waited for us; the show was split into two halves: they had four men signed up to do the second half of the show, but if we allowed ourselves to be beaten during her first six songs, then we got a front row seat for the second half. The room was decimated from four dozen expectant men with "front row tickets" to just two in seconds: only me, and a wiry geek remained and he was incredibly eager to sign away his bottomly comfort for the next week. We were tied to the bench, looking out over the busy hall and I started drifting: my mind wandered, floating about what was happening to me, to us, and I felt the raised touch of the emergency button on my right finger.
The professional dominatrix hurt; each smack forced a torturous cry from my lips as my fingers dug into the padded bench; I could see a dozen other submissives across the room in a variety of positions, receiving torment: the air was alive with squeals and screams, yells and howls. My erection showed no sign of flagging; the gloved hand of a sexy dominatrix caressing my ass and then firmly spanking it twenty times would engorge the equipment of any depraved individual and I thoroughly enjoyed the delightful pain she rippled through my perverted body. "Damn it, that tickles," I cried, panting as her body swelled and the hairbrush landed squarely on my most bruised areas: the smooth curve of the brush slapping against my skin as my body moved on the cool leather of the spanking bench.
I hesitated: sure, the scarlet paddle was nowhere as painful as the cane, the hairbrush or the tawse, it still hurt and my darling wife was never in the mood to hit gently. And if she loved making me squirm, it was nothing compared to the empowerment she felt as my body erupted into a ball of pain, yells and torment. Nothing ever prepares me for the first strike: not a gentle tap or stout hit, but a ferocious slam of paddle against my healing skin. The red-hot pain was excruciating; this was not a normal paddling, this was dozens of hard, furious hits.
We trained a lot that following week; the humiliation the Woodford Wanderers suffered in giving blowjobs to the victors of our friendly match burnt into every aspect of our waking moments, and even as I was fucking my girlfriend, the vivid memories of the swell of his cock and the tickle of his pubic hair on the end of my nose, was innermost in my mind. I saw many of my team-mates on their knees, sucking the last of the cum from the cocks bobbing in front of them, but as I felt for the dripping wetness of lube leaking from my anus, he poked me in the shoulder.
She kissed me like we would never see each other again, consumed with passion as her hands wandered and squeezed my nipples with lust in her eyes; it was heaven. Fellatio was a once-a-year treat and she looked at me with fire in her eyes as her head bobbed along my shaft; I groaned, pushing the back of her black hair as my cock slid over her tongue, enjoying the debauched acts with relish. I wanted a threesome: I had asked for one several times, prepared to watch as another man pleasured my girlfriend if I was not allowed to join in, but at that moment I desperately needed adventure.
My wife was charged with an offence in the small village and there was a 99% chance she would be punished for her abhorrent indiscretion. But the judges knew that; they waited until the eleventh man of that sinful dozen had given evidence against her when they found her guilty, doubling the sentence because of her plea of innocence. "Fifty spanks with the paddle," Judge Amanda demanded; the long wig hiding her fair hair as she strode elegantly towards the back of my restrained wife. But the judge was merciless, the sounds of her desperate begging and nasal cries reverberated around the courthouse as my wife struggled with her restraints. "As her husband, you should control her," the judge demanded of me, glancing as my wife approached her tenth spank.
Their unbeaten record had not seen anyone in that team have to succumb to the losers under the league's plans, and he wasn't taking his buggery like a man. The league authorities were keen to throw in some interesting variations during the season, and a couple of weeks after the successful public sex shows, the first round cup games would be used for a "bukkake the losing captain." The losing captain licked his lips of the male cum on his face and then impaled his mouth on our young striker's prick. Several more men, including our coach and the referee, had cocks slipped between the sucking lips of Paul before coating his glistening face with another dose of cum.
It took an hour to prepare the losing team, but after an intense delay, seventeen embarrassed men came into our changing room shaved hairless by the league's helpful entourage. Paul later confessed I was the first man he had taken, and had the strangest conversation as two "straight guys" sat in the changing room naked while talking about the secret gay sex we had just had and had both wanted. I never told any of my team-mates what really happened on the pitch during the photoshoot; there was a gradual acceptance that the league's rules were "fun" as they added an element of chance and jeopardy to the proceedings, but I wasn't ready to say that I had wanted to be taken.
The lead lecturer, a Mistress Ceri, always has her two naked assistants (in this case myself and Paula) facing the wall as the students arrive, and encourages everyone to warm our buttocks with a smack. As the courses progressed that arrogance would be honed and they would appreciate that spanking subs was not always about how hard they could pelt me, or Paula, but inflicting control and punishment. But these were early days, and Mistress Ceri knew that over-exuberance, ignorance and a mistaken understanding of BDSM would lead to some painful bums, and that was a small price to pay. It was warmed nicely from the spanking and just as Mistress Ceri had shown them, the first students stepped forward and brought a firm strike across our rears.
I was interviewed before the match by GaySportsTV; I was the "midfield general" of the team and the muscular ex-professional was as interested in my thoughts of the opposition as much as my views on the obvious sexual content post-game. I flung my body over the nearest single bed and told Paul to be "gentle." I had another cock thrust into my mouth although I never saw who it was; it didn't matter. Paul grunted and filled the condom moments before the cock in my mouth spewed several streaks of cum into my throat and then onto my face. My head was spinning; the room was alive with manful grunts and groans, thrusts and squeals as Ryan got pounded on the other bed.
Olivia squeezed my hand as we looked into the bar; I donned a pair of sunglasses – the agreed signal between myself, Wellhung87, and Donkeydick – as butterflies did the tango in my stomach. But Olivia loved it, wriggling on the bed as her naked fiancé sucked the cock of a stranger. And confusion reigned supreme: I was straight, I had only dated girls and loved Olivia, but at that moment, I wanted DonkeyDick to climax in my mouth. I could see it in his eyes; he had never had a girl fuck his arse before, but Olivia was firm yet gentle with her movements, and his cock responded.
Claire needed punishment and Olivia removed her new flogger from her picnic bag; ivory handle with thick leather tails. "Best not to tease doms with weapons," Miss Anna added, watching the writhing submissive wriggle on the grass. The scarf was draped over a branch on a nearby tree, holding the lady's hands outstretched; Claire's vocal muttering trailed into silence as Miss Anna tugged at the black skirt to unfasten it from the young brat's waist. Claire screamed as her skin stung, swearing into the isolated venue as Miss Anna snapped the flogger against Claire's parted legs, allowing the tails to wrap around the writhing girl's crack. Miss Anna returned the flogger to Olivia, reaching from behind the agonised submissive to untie her.
Her nocturnal presents became a regular feature until they split up; there wasn’t an evening that went past without me sucking cum from her pussy: the provocative sight of semen dripping from her snatch always made me horny and it drove the sassy student to new heights of arousal. I wasn’t allowed to use their swimming pool until I removed my swimming trunks and then Katherine’s stepmother openly admired my package, drawing attention to it’s “cute hang.” My friend giggled, rubbing her hand over my shaft and openly jerking my cock into an erection to flirt. She didn’t need to suck on my cock to bring me to hardness: I had spent the evening leaking pre-cum onto my loaned tuxedo and legs.
"Pete wants me to work this weekend," I growled. "Bet your comment was so moronic," she squealed as my finger traced her crack. She never finished her words; the right hand of husbandry justice slammed against her pale buttocks causing a loud crack of skin-to-skin pain, and a wifely screech of unexpected agony. The sudden recollection from the wife that I could and would cause her skin to redden with the furious spanks of a frustrated husband. "I know they laughed as they deleted your comment," she squealed, her voice dripping with gleeful torment. My hand launched dozens of hits against the squirming wife, raining firm, hard spanks against her peachy behind. "I'm sure Pete won't mind if you can't work this weekend," she soothed.
Out of a fit of crazed horniness, I grabbed Katherine's book from the table and headed onto the farm: there was a small copse of trees about a third of a mile from the farm house and I had every intention of finding a quiet corner of the woodland and enjoying her steamy novel with nothing but birdsong and the stiffness of my cock for company. The strike of her hand landed firmly on my bum: the slapping of my flesh resonating in the clearing, but it was merely painful not agony: she could hit harder, I knew she could, but her quick slaps against my flesh were stinging the skin not a fearsome burning like I feared.
What I needed was 69; I could pleasure my partner with a flick of my tongue in a way I couldn't with my cock. We talked lots about that night; my initial feelings of envy and jealously were swiftly satisfied as I watched her orgasm. I watched the two men fumble on the bed, sliding their hands drunkenly over my desperate girlfriend. My cock was painfully erect as they kissed; squirming as the condoms were unfurled and I was on the edge of orgasm when the first man parted her lips and drove his impressive erection deep into her squirming cunt. It played into our dynamic fantastically and there was a never ending stream of men who wanted to fuck a sexy girl while imposing their masculinity on her humiliated boyfriend.
Indeed, many wives considered a Gaian slave to be a slight from their husbands and demanded those with better breeding, but my wife insisted on girls from those rugged isles. Like many Gaian women she had her belly button pierced and streaks of colour in her hair, but "Pree" was one of the last girls the slave trader had, and so I haggled her for a rock-bottom price. "If ever you get fucked, my dear, then this is how you get cleaned up." My eyes met the surprised glance of Pree, hesitating as my wife demanded that the newest addition to our family settle her crotch onto my cum-covered face.
Her passionate grunts clear that she was lewdly enjoying his thick veiny cock stretching her filled cunt. I wanted to hold her as he drove her into a gasping climax, feeling the passionate quivers of her muscles as her fiery body shivered with saturated lust. I wanted to taste her passionate desire for her male co-star as he elicited fervid whimpers from the young slut. Horrid humiliating laughs, as my mouth sucked at her pussy and swept over her slick cunt. I heard the clink of bottles as she adjusted her rump on my face, enjoying a few laughs with friends, with drinks, while I pleasured her. She giggled, kissing the key in the heave of her bosom, smiling at her alpha male friends shaking their heads at me.
They got to plow the pregnant women's pussies, watch the young ladies suck them to orgasm or occasionally drive their cocks into their pert asses. I found the pregnant porn stars who looked like Luna: black hair, innocent smile, gorgeous eyes. She rested her hands on my desk, rocking against my turgid dick as I drove into her pregnant body; her grunts and groans sounding just like my dreams and fantasies. Her dress slid over naked torso, hiding her gorgeous body from sight and I sat back in my reclining chair: naked, with the taste of sex in my mouth, a pool of leaking cum on my leather seat and watching my pregnant friend blow me a kiss as she left the room.
I smiled at Dmitri's picture: his glossy hands sliding over his obviously erect cock, which was hidden from view by his fingers, and adorned with the tagline - "MANLUBE: Not just epic in my arse!" Our coach read it out to us in the changing room; we had only been involved in one draw before that day but other teams were playing to not lose, rather than to win and the league had acted. Our team thanked us; we had slaps on the back as we left our changing room naked except for our golden socks, passing three nervous looking Ramplington Rovers players walking past us.
But the half-a-dozen men watched, their arms folded as the man who had driven anti-Union legislation through Parliament was bent helplessly over the desk, his suit trousers gathered around his knees. Prostitution is fine," she delivered, squarely thumping his bum with every word and savouring the yell of his distress, screaming into the studio as the driven women delivered justice to the right-wing bigot. Sure there are some bits that are shit, but on the whole I love it!" Her words punctured his soul as her hand smashed continually into his abused buttocks, glowing brightly under the hot studio lights. Tell the world, yes I am kinky, I like the feel of silky women's underwear.
"I think you are all amazingly wonderful and I'm so sorry, but I just wanted to get your autographs as I've been to twelve of your shows and you are just the most incredible people and I dream so much of you and I'm ..." I trialled off, as Lady Heather's outstretched finger touched the top of her lip, to demand silence. I was totally trusting the pro-dommes as one of the ladies, tugged me towards the St Andrews Cross, shackling my hands and feet to the X frame, my face looking at the back of the stage while the hundreds of punters were staring at my arse.
"It's my first time." His eyes were torn to his team mate squealing beside me, groaning as his hole was stretched by the sizeable cock of our goalkeeper sliding past the young man's anus. We both scored our second and third strikes too, stripping naked and keeping our socks and boots on, before my opponent got arrogant and tried to chip our goalkeeper from the penalty spot and cleared the crossbar to whoops of delight from the crowd. They dropped a little further when I was recognised as "that football guy from the telly." Yes, the manager watched GaySportsTV, and therefore nearly outed himself in front of the entire office by his candour; he chatted to me in the canteen over hushed whispers about how "hot" it was and how much he wanted to play in a similar league.
I had a brief chat on the phone with my fiancée when the team returned to the hotel; she had watched me on television at her friend's house and was breathless as she described how majestic I looked seizing the oral virginity of the young player. He whimpered as his cock slid past my tongue and my lips cleaned his prick; she sighed as I returned to her dripping hole to suck the mess from her cunt. The cameras caught our torment: I would happily have taken those cocks as I watched my team-mates squirm and whimper as they were pounded mercilessly by the victorious muscle-clad footballers: awesome specimens of masculinity and strength. I had thought about men when Julia was bouncing on my cock and I wanted to be fucked when my team lost.
The smallest bead of perspiration tumbled down her face as she closed her eyes for a few seconds, desperately waiting for her train into work. She knew if the wait on the platform was cruel on her, then the vibrations of the train would be hellish. She knew that if her fellow commuters were barely noticing her silent anguish and hidden distress in the windy station, they would notice it when pressed up against her on the train ride into Manchester. Her face twisted with unspent and unwanted lust, her body desperate for relief fought her mind anxious to retain her dignity. Her attention abandoned her need to retain her pride and now converted to her pursuit of relief: her cunt trembled towards her awaited climax and her glazed eyes barely noticed the sights in front of her.
There had been some fallout from the league's decision to allow victorious teams to sodomise the losing players in the dressing room. The league had decided that the match would fall on the first of their "special weekends" and planned to take full advantage of the fame and interest by conducting the victory fuck in public and not in the dressing rooms. The sheepish looks on the faces of the losing team was stark from their attitude three weeks ago: they were cocky then, kings of the world, dominants. It came from the stand and the gathered supporters around the pitch, including the wives and girlfriends of The Cock Inn players. I grabbed hold of the back of his head, thrusting my prick deep into his mouth as he gagged, spluttering as my cock swept past his lips.
So as my rump felt every stroke of her weapon, I ignored the pain, I fought it, desperate to dismiss the fire burning in my backside as a mere feathery touch. it tickles!" I cried through gritted teeth, shooting a glance at the assembled audience. I fought the stripes of pain landing squarely across my flesh, the sharpness of the sensation as her whip bounced off my buttocks. I wanted to squeal my safeword and admit her savagery was too much for me to bear. "I've not finished," she cried as I stepped towards our mutual friends. Ahhh, that really hurt!" I lied as an unknown hand gently tapped my abused rump. "They managed to hurt me with their hand, you didn't touch me with your whip."
She slipped; her right leg sliding when her high heel skidded on a pool of spilt drink: an occupational hazard in any nightclub. We left the venue together, my friend and I walking her through a small housing estate fondling her half-naked body, until she stopped at the quiet car park, turning to face us with a drunken giggle. Fingers slipped between her crack, and she leaned into George, my touch glissading over her wetness. She mewed into the faceful of George's prick, moaning as my sodden hand swept her into a vocal orgasm. I filled the condom, pressing my prick deep into her trembling body to enjoy the final pulses of her pussy.
I will admit to a degree of alcoholic consumption, at this point, but I'd paid for the right to touch her; she was mine, and as she resumed her dancing my fingers danced lightly over her rump. I wanted to slide my fingers along her thigh and I'd paid for the right. "I want to touch," I interrupted, but was on the floor in seconds as the hired thugs pulled me away from the girls, before dragging me away from the action and into a chair in a side-room. I will not have my girls upset by silly little boys," she ignored my interruption as she opened the door on the only cupboard and withdrew a wooden rattan cane, sliding it out in front of my nose.