I’m a 33-year-old woman who’s not afraid to do what she wants. I’ve always been like that. I never wanted a boring life like my parents had, so I just don’t allow that to happen.
The first time I had sex I was 18, and my neighbor convinced me to lift my skirt for him in the front seat of his car. His 30-year-old prick twitched when he saw my thinly-haired pussy, and he couldn’t climb on top of me fast enough. But sadly, after only a few strokes he shot his load inside me.
That was my first time. It wasn’t much at all, and it was a little messy, but still, I’d had sex.
After that I had a succession of lovers, young and old. The younger ones mostly just wanted to be jerked off or fucked in the back seats of cars—and so did some of the older ones, for that matter. But some of them loved young pussy, and usually gave me a good climax or two before they came.
I used to fantasize about a series of studs fucking me one after another in the back of a car, or even in a motel somewhere. But that was just a fantasy until about a year ago.
My fantasy is that I’m married to a big-busted beauty like in her mid-30s. She has long blonde hair she normally wears pinned up, with two provocative strands that hang down at the sides.
In the fantasy we visit a casino resort for a few days. It’s our first night, and we’re in the casino. Marisa’s wearing a white miniskirt and a white lace blouse with a red bra and matching panties. She attracts a lot of male attention, especially from a group of five men in their 30s who come over and start playing at our table. They’re very friendly, and soon we’re chatting amiably as we play. There’s a good deal of drinking going on.
Marisa gets horny when she drinks. So I’m not surprised when, around one in the morning, she invites the guys up to our room. I’ve seen her get gang-banged several times in the past, so I’m okay with the situation, except for one thing—she’s having her period.
In our room a couple of the guys immediately start feeling Marisa up. She makes no objection. After some nuzzling and kissing, some of the guys suggest she do a striptease. She puts on some music and strips down to her red lace bra and panties. The men are going wild, but Marisa puts a damper on things when she says she can’t actually have sex with them because of her period.
The men are disappointed, but after a minute one of them brings up the idea of anal sex. Marisa says maybe. Her round ass has been fucked lots of times, but it’s tight and not just any cock will work. So she has them strip down, and when they do, she selects the guy with the smallest cock—to open her ass up.
She pulls off her bra and panties and gets on the bed on all fours. The guy, really excited, gets behind her and the rest of us watch as he works his cock in her ass. After several minutes he gets it in, but he doesn’t last long, coming within two minutes. The next guy takes up the position, enters her ass and lasts a little longer, but not much. The third guy gives her a proper pounding before pulling out and coming all over her ass.
Marisa moans and rubs his jism into her skin, then rolls over on her back. The last two guys kneel on the bed on either side of her head, and she sucks them alternately until they both come on her face, neck and tits. Once again she rubs their semen into her skin.
The guys all dress and leave. Marisa is very happy and turned on. She tells me she loves the feel of being splashed with come.
After that, she starts getting into what she tells me is called bukkake, and we host several bukkake parties. We invite a bunch of guys over, and she lets them fuck her a little but not come inside her. Then she has them jerk off on her and cover her with come. This becomes her favorite thing.
One Friday night we have 18 guys over to our house, most of whom we’ve met on the Internet. Marisa starts by doing a striptease, then sucks everybody’s cock—but not to the point of coming. She lies down on a pad on the floor in the middle of the room, and several guys eat her bald pussy. A few of them fuck her for a few minutes. Then they surround her, six at time, and jerk off. When one group is done, the next takes its place, and then the last group.
When the come has finally finished flying, Marisa is literally coated with semen. She has me help her rub it into her skin and practically comes just from that. Next she says she wants to do a party with 30 guys.—D.L., Dover, Delaware
It was a Friday afternoon, and I was drinking a beer at the bar of the mostly empty Bonnie Prince Charlie Tavern. I had everything ready for my move to the States in a week or so, and was doing my farewell rounds of my favorite London pubs. I was just about to move on to the next one when a young blonde woman came in and had a whispered conversation with Jock, the barman at the other end of the counter.
“I don’t know, lass,” I heard him say. “But maybe Ian can help you.” He pointed to me, giving me a wink and broad smile as the girl looked over at me. “The wee lassie has come down from Scotland to see if she can get into pornographic movies,” he explained. “Don’t you know someone in that business, Ian?” He was almost rolling with silent laughter and making hand gestures behind her back as she walked toward my stool. He knew perfectly well that I was in advertising, but what he didn’t know was that a couple of the photographers in my firm were indeed moonlighting by doing photo spreads for girlie magazines.
She introduced herself as Betsy McSomething, from McButtfuck, Scotland some small town north and west of Inverness. She was about 19 or 20, five feet three inches tall, with a rounded figure, not exactly the sort of long-legged beauty one looks for in porno films. However, her face was quite pretty, her long blonde hair was lustrous, and she had a rack that sat high on her chest and pushed out against the buttons on the blue-and-white dress that covered her from neck to knee. It was an interesting package, and I couldn’t help but wonder what it would look like naked.
I bought her a drink, and we sat at a table and talked about her plans. She had just trained down to London that day to check out her chances of becoming a porn star. She was in urgent need of some money, and this idea had come upon her as a solution to her problem. I asked if she was very sexually active up in Scotland, and she admitted that she had only actually done it with a couple of guys, but that she really enjoyed sex and liked the idea of experiencing it with more fellows. So I called the two photo chaps I worked with and asked them meet us at the Bonnie Prince, which of course they did, and before too long the three of us were shit-faced drunk and taking turns, along with Jock, at fucking Betsy on a blanket thrown over some crates in the storage room.
She hadn’t been joking when she said she really enjoyed screwing, as by my drunken count she had each of us twice, and a friend of Jock’s as well, and the girl was smiling and laughing the whole time, while experiencing one earth-shaking orgasm after another. I should also note that with her clothes off that round body was damned attractive, and she resembled a small version of a Rubens model. We all agreed that she would look great in girlie magazines or in a porn video, and that we would start on that project the next day. Of course we were all drunk, and probably weren’t too sure what the hell we were saying.
When we were all fucked out we got Betsy back into her dress and heels, and I took her home with me. In preparation for my departure for America I had moved out of my apartment and was house-sitting for my sister, who was out of the country at the time, doing some work for the Foreign Office. So I brought Betsy there and ran a bath for her so she could scrub off the grime from the train ride and the dried-up spunk that covered her thighs and belly.
As Betsy soaked in the scented bath water I rustled up a late supper for us. I am really quite a good cook, and I quickly made up some crepes and sauteed some veggies, and opened a cold bottle of champagne from the fridge to wash it down. By the time I had it put together she had emerged from the bathroom, squeaky clean, with stringy wet hair and wrapped in my sister’s lush terrycloth robe. “I hope you don’t mind,” she said, in her cute Scottish burr, “but I shaved my pussy with your razor.” And she opened the robe to show me her freshly sheared crotch. Mind? I was down on my knees and giving her a tongue lashing in a nanosecond.
After she came we consumed our meal while sitting on the couch watching a soccer match on television and playing a little game of our own. We each chose a team, and whenever her team missed a shot she had to lean over and suck on my willy. Likewise, when my team missed a shot I had to suck on one of her appendages, either her pouting nipples or her projecting clitoris. We were unsure of who would do what to whom if either team ever scored, but it was a pretty foregone conclusion that whoever won, we would end up fucking. There was also no doubt that she would end up staying the night. She had not arranged for a place to stay and had checked her small overnight bag at the station, so it was agreed that she should stay with me and avail herself of whatever she needed from my sister’s store of clothes and makeup.
It was around midnight when we moved into the bedroom. Betsy started asking me about the next day, and about what would be expected of her if she actually made it into the porn business. I asked her if she had ever done anal intercourse, to which she replied, “Oh no! But I’m not opposed to trying it!” And with that she plopped down on the bed on her stomach and, smiling back at me, raised her soft rounded buttocks for my inspection. I was instantly erect and thinking of Brando in Last Tango in Paris. I quickly made my way to the kitchen, where I pulled a cold stick of butter from the fridge and hurried back to the bedroom.
I knelt between her legs and began kissing her cunt, running my tongue up and down the slippery groove until she was cooing in appreciation. Then I licked her anus and the cooing turned to purring, which became even louder as I slid my tongue as deep as it would go into her rectum. I did this for some time before introducing the stick of butter, first to the warm lips of her pussy, which made her jump, and then sliding it up her crack and over her small perineum to the tight little rosebud itself. I ground it around, letting the warmth of her flesh gradually smooth off the corners, melting it down until I was able to slide it into her hole, bit by bit. The coldness of it made her shudder, but she moaned with pleasure as I slid it in and out, over and over, until butter was running from her asshole and down over her pussy lips. I sucked some of it up, and as I did she exploded into the most violent orgasm I had ever witnessed. Her spasms broke the stick in half and left me holding just an inch or so.
As she writhed on the bed with her hand between her legs, stroking her clit to enhance her pleasure, I placed my cockhead at the buttered opening of her ass and drove it slowly and steadily into her bowels. I could feel the warm butter surrounding my dick as I moved deeper into that tight passage. Betsy was in a frenzied state, and I was reaching the same degree of excitement as I drove my weapon in and out with all the force and speed I could muster. Butter was squishing out of her ass with every thrust, and I knew I could not last long at the pace I was going. Meanwhile I could hear this little Scottish voice saying “Come on, you bloody English bastard, fuck me, fuck me hard!” My balls were slapping against her pussy, and her hand was grabbing at my scrotum and trying to squeeze them. And then suddenly I was coming, squirting wildly and helplessly deep inside her, and she came with me, climaxing almost as violently as she had before.
We lay in the afterglow trying to catch our breath, and then she moved down in the bed and took my buttered-covered penis deep into her mouth. As it slowly regained its hardness I was trying to think of how I was going to explain to my sister the butter stains soaked into her mattress. I hoped I would be off to the States before she returned to find them.
After an omelet breakfast my specialty and some really serious coffee drinking, both of us felt ready for the day’s activities. I called Graham and Bill, my coworkers, who were still hung over but eager for the second round, and we arranged to meet around noon at the loft they used as a photo studio over in Notting Hill. Betsy and I rummaged through my sister’s wardrobe and selected a few of her see-through teddies and other lingerie for Betsy to bring to the shoot. Betsy, however, was quite different in size and shape from my tall, thin sibling, so on the way to our meeting we stopped to by some other things for the shoot, as well as some walking-around clothes. We added some thong undies, as well as some fancy stockings and a garter belt, which I figured would look great on her short body, making her legs appear longer than they were. Then we headed for the shoot.
Graham and Bill were already there, and had set up a couple of scenes one a garden and the other a bedroom and were playing with the lighting and cameras when we arrived. They had set aside a changing room for Betsy, but as we had all seen her naked the night before she had absolutely no modesty. We spread all the garments out on a table, and as she and Graham went through them, selecting possible items to use, she stripped to the buff and slipped on each piece in turn as they talked about them. Of course this meant that the three of us were almost constantly erect or semi-erect, as we were presented with an almost continuous strip show.
At one point Graham couldn’t take it any more. He got behind her as she leaned over the table, and releasing his cramped penis from his pants, gave her a surprise injection of his meat. Her reaction was to look back over her shoulder with a smile and say, “Well thank you very much! I was wondering what a lass had to do to get fucked in this place!” We all laughed and reassured her that she would be very well fucked before the day was much older.
Betsy was still bending over the table, with Graham sliding his dick in and out of her, when the male model that the guys had contracted for arrived. His name was Maurice, and he was to play Betsy’s lover in the scenarios that they had concocted. He grinned as he took in the action, saying, “You really don’t seem to need me!”
“No, but we need your big cock,” Bill replied. Maurice was an extremely good-looking lad, but quite effeminate in his manner, and as it turned out he was quite gay. Bill and Graham were only planning to shoot some still photos, which they would shop around to skin magazines. There would be no actual fucking, just a series of poses, and Maurice was there to pose as the handsome lover with the huge dick.
They began with the bedroom scene, with Betsy posing on the bed in my sister’s teddy. Then Maurice entered. Graham directed the action as Bill kept snapping pictures. Following Graham’s orders, Betsy quickly lost the teddy. She then pulled Maurice’s dick out of his pants and placed the head of it in her mouth. Maurice stripped, flexing his muscles. Betsy lay down on the bed, and Maurice got between her legs and brought his dick to the opening of her cunt. That was as far as it went. After that Graham had Betsy change her clothes, and they went through the same story line again. Then it was into the mock garden for a change of scenery. Between each scene Betsy changed her costume and did her hair in a different style, then went through basically the same actions again.
Of course Betsy was getting more and more frustrated as these scenes were played out, wondering when she was going to get that huge piece of meat slammed between her legs. The answer was obviously never, as Maurice kept his erection by thinking of his male lover’s asshole. But both Bill and I helped her out by knocking off a piece between scene changes, and when we finally finished the shoot, all three of us gave her a hard pounding on the bed. Still she kept complaining about what a terrible waste it was that she didn’t get to sample Maurice’s big tool.
Betsy and Maurice signed release forms and received two hundred pounds for the afternoon’s modeling, with the promise of an added bonus if the photos sold for a price above costs. I would have been happy paying that for the sex alone.
Maurice went off to meet his lover, and the four of us decided to go to a caf for an early dinner. We were just finishing our meal when a friend of Bill’s entered the caf and came over to our table. Bill introduced him as Clark, and after saying hello all around he looked at Betsy and asked, “Is this one of your models?” Which of course delighted Betsy to no end, and she pushed her breasts out even further. Bill affirmed that she was, and told him about the shoot we had just completed.
“Good!” Clark said. “I wonder if she could help me out.” He went on to explain that his cricket club was having a poker game and bachelor party at a local pub that evening, and the stripper they had hired had taken ill. “Would you be interested in making some good money doing a striptease for about thirty chaps, luv?” he asked Betsy.
Betsy didn’t hesitate to say yes. I asked her if she could dance, to which she replied, “Well, I am Scottish!” Which I translated to mean, “Of course I can, you fucking English twit!”
We arrived at the designated pub at nine-thirty, and found the back room full of chaps ranging in age from their 20s to their 80s. Betsy was wearing a blouse and a pair of slacks that we had bought earlier, and carrying a large shopping bag with the clothes she had taken to the shoot. She figured she could find something sexy among those things to begin her strip in, and she went off to the ladies’ room to change.
A little while later Clark interrupted the card playing and drinking to announce the entertainment. He gave Betsy a nice introduction, and she bounced out, cued by the music from a CD player that Clark operated, and climbed up on one of the small tables the card players had been using. She was wearing another of my sister’s see-through teddies over a garter belt, black nylons and three pairs of thong panties. Her dancing wasn’t too bad, and even before she got the teddy off some of the men were throwing folded pound notes onto the table. Once her beautiful breasts came into view the notes came even faster, and the audience really loved it when she removed one thong, then another, and finally the last tiny covering. The pussy she had shaved just the night before was a real winner, and the crowd went wild.
She got off the table then, and the chaps moved to form a circle around her as she danced around in just her heels, hose and garter belt. Her long blonde hair, which had been in a pony tail at first had now shaken free and swirled around her shoulders. She then began to go beyond the realm of duty and to interact with the audience. Clark was the first to benefit from her attention as she danced over and rubbed her bare behind into his crotch. A howl of approval came from the crowd, and with this encouragement she reached out to rub the crotches of the men on either side of him. She smiled as she squeezed them appreciatively, and then proceeded to dance around the circle, giving each of the guys a fondle. I don’t think there was a soft dick in the house, and of course the fondling was reciprocal as they touched Betsy’s breasts and patted her bare bottom, or reached between her legs to wet their fingers in her pussy.
After she had rubbed against almost every dick in the room I was beginning to think there might be an all-out gang bang, but in fact most of the older men gradually returned to their card tables, and to their drinking and chatting, leaving about a dozen or so mostly younger guys in the circle surrounding Betsy. Several of them had their cocks out, and now one brave soul grabbed he around the waist and kissed her, then lifted her up to sit her on the table she had previously been dancing on. Without hesitation she lay back and opened her legs wide, and urged on by his mates, the chap dropped his trousers and swiftly stuck his weapon into her glistening cunt. He gave her a few strokes, but then pulled out of her without coming, to the jeering of some of his mates. Meanwhile some of the others had crowded around the table, and Betsy had taken a cock in each hand, while another chap pushed his dick into her willing mouth.
At this point a number of the men began calling for someone named McDonald to do his thing.
Despite the name, McDonald turned out to be a Jamaican stud of about 40, who had been watching from the fringes of the circle. Now a couple of young chaps pushed him forward, and almost reluctantly, it seemed, he took his position between Betsy’s legs. He dropped his pants, to the cheers of the watchers, and produced a very sizable penis. “Lads,” he said in a joking voice, “this is the last time I am going to show you how it’s done!” Which brought much laughter and a few cheers from the assembly.
Betsy was looking at this new man with wide, surprised eyes, though I could not guess whether it was because of the size of his dick or the color of his skin. I was sure there were few if any black people in the highlands of Scotland.
McDonald’s penis hardened still further as he rubbed the head of it over her moist labia, and then it was sliding in easily, all the way to the hilt. Betsy gave a gasp, allowing the prick in her mouth to fall out, although she held tight to the two she held in her hands. Then she began to moan with pleasure as McDonald drove his dick in and out of her with increasing speed. The dozen or so chaps around the table all had their peckers out also, and were stroking them in unison with his thrusts. Then the guy whose dick she had expelled began to chant, “Bukkake! Bukkake!” and the cry was echoed around the table. I was not familiar with the word, but I soon found out what it meant. As McDonald pulled out and shot a prodigious amount of semen over Betsy’s belly, the other chaps started coming in spurts, shooting their jism on her tits, her legs, her feet, her face just everywhere.
The guys were laughing and cheering, and when I looked at Betsy’s face I saw that she was laughing too. I wasn’t sure whether McDonald had gotten her off, but she seemed totally thrilled with the experience she had just had. One of the guys now pulled out a bank note and stuck it to her come-covered tit. This started a movement as each of the men stuck notes of various denominations onto her forehead, her thighs, her belly, until she was almost totally covered in bills. To top it off, McDonald stuck a couple of bills in the cleft of her vagina, saying, “Thanks, love, you’re a real good sport. All the best in your future!”
I helped Betsy off the table and she went into the bathroom to clean herself up. I collected the money that had fallen onto the floor and looked around for her shopping bag, but it was gone. Someone had taken her clothing for a souvenir! All she had was her high heels, which she had kept on throughout. She had nothing to wear home, so one of the men took pity on her and gave her his London Fog raincoat. It was a mile too large, and she had to fold the sleeves up so she could use her hands, but it was better than nothing.
Outside we hopped onto a bus headed to King’s Cross Station, where Betsy had checked her overnight bag on her arrival in London. It was raining lightly, so she didn’t look too out of place in the oversized raincoat, but even so she did draw attention to herself when she sat down in the bus and the coat opened almost up to her hip. Several men gave her their rapt attention, and when we got up to get off, one of them couldn’t resist asking her, “Miss, do you have anything on under that raincoat?”
“I guess we’II have to see!” Betsy said, and with that she undid the belt and opened the coat right up, giving all the passengers a good long look at her beautiful naked body. Then, looking at me, she said loudly, “Oh! I must have left my knickers home!” The bus had stopped now, and without bothering to close the coat she stepped out onto the pavement and spun around so they could all get another look.
We picked up her bag I finally convinced her to close the coat again before entering the station and then headed back to my sister’s flat. It had been a long day, and she was glad to be able to soak in the bath I drew for her. I went down the road and brought back some Chinese food, then climbed into the bath with her and we ate our meal there, with the boxes lined up along the edge of the bath and my foot gently stroking her pussy.
Since arriving in town she had been fucked about twenty times, and had had her first anal, her first black man and her first Bukkake. She had modeled for pictures, done a striptease and made a bus driver and some passengers very happy. She was one tired wee lassie, but I couldn’t let her go to sleep without one more fuck, nor did she want me to. So after our bath I laid her down on the bed and entered her. I was stroking away nice and easy when she whispered, “Do me in the bum again, luv!”
I turned her over and put a pillow under her belly to raise her cute behind pulling the cheeks apart, I massaged her rectum until it was dilated enough for me to enter her. Again I stroked her gently until she reached a strong climax, and then I drove in and out with more force until she came again, bringing me off in her bowels. We fell asleep with my softening cock still embedded in her ass.
The following afternoon I put her on the train back to Scotland. She told me that at that point she wasn’t sure that the big city and the porn business was really her cup of tea, although she had had a great time and was going home with over 900 pounds in her purse. She also had Graham’s and Bill’s phone numbers in case she ever came down again. I never found out whether she did or not, because a week later I left London for New York.
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