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A number of messages that I’ve recently received, inspired me to write this short story. I’ve used a lot of the expressions and ideas that those messages conveyed. I hope that those men who like this kind of thing, will enjoy my little tale.
It’s amazing really, how I, who always looked on love as something beautiful and tender and sweet, should be drawn into something so degrading and awful.
Anyhow, to tell you how it all came about, I’ll go right back to the beginning.
I was happily married, and still am for that matter, but liked to explore porno sites on the net; and not only to explore them but to also talk to the sexy men who frequented those wicked sites.
Of course I shouldn’t have been there at all. My husband wouldn’t have been very happy about it had he found out. But then, it was after all, no more than just talk, it wasn’t as if anything was actually happening, although I do admit to having been excited enough to masturbate sometimes. Nevertheless, the fact remains that this was what I did.
One particular man began writing to me, and I always wrote back enthusiastically enough. At first his messages were very polite and nice, but I admit that I quickly began to get bored with them, because, after all, it was a sex site and I wanted more than just everyday chat.
Not wanting to hurt his feelings, I began wondering how to get rid of his attentions. The best way was to simply become remiss in replying to his messages, and then after a while they’d just die a natural death.
I began to follow that tack, taking days to respond to each of his messages.
Whether he sensed this waning of my interest, or whether he’d planned it all along, I don’t know. I only know that there was a sudden change in his mode of writing.
I received a message from him, in which he said, “you have to admit that women like yourself, who come here, are really just sluts, aren’t they.”
Well of course he was quite right in his assertion. I wrote back, perhaps a little bit too quickly, and made some offhand mention to what he’d said, and did in fact agree with him.
Straight away I received another message in which he opened by addressing me as “Slut Yvonne” followed by a smiling face to make it look as if it were just a joke. Even though he tried to pass it off as a joke though, he twice more in the message, referred to me as a slut.
Well I must admit that this very slight change had the effect of arousing my interest once more, and so I wrote back more promptly once again.
His next message was much more what I was looking for on that site. He talked openly of sexual things, continually referring to me as “slut”, and even calling me a “dirty slut” and a “filthy slut” – something that excited me tremendously.
It must have been obvious to him that I took no offence from his way of talking, and in fact he perhaps saw that I was excited by it. He spoke openly of everything sexually perverted, and made the most outrageous suggestions, saying, “a filthy cunt like you would like that.”
It embarrasses me to tell that I was thrilled by his filthy talk, but I guess that’s the beauty of the net isn’t it, one can really let go and express their true feelings.
This mode of talk went on for some weeks in which our messages were passed almost daily. There came though, a further change in his approach towards me. He initially spoke in much the same vein that we’d become used to, but then he said, “What I’m really looking for though, is not just a dirty slut like yourself, london escort agency what I want is a filthy bitch who is really fucking depraved, someone who I can treat as a sub-human animal, a filthy fucking pig, a sow to be fucked and abused.”
I was a bit stunned. I enjoyed the dirty talk that we’d previously employed, but gosh, this was really over the top.
It was a fact that I didn’t write back for some days, not because I was turned off by what the guy wrote, I just didn’t know how to reply and what to say about his words.
Because of my slowness in replying, he thought that I was turned off because of what he said. He wrote, apologising for saying such things, but I then wrote back telling him the truth, that my tardy reply was simply because I was a bit shocked and wasn’t quite sure what to say in reply.
If I’d been stunned by his previous message, what followed was many times more shocking.
“Yvonne, you dirty, depraved, fucking whore-pig-cunt,” he wrote, “you love being my filthy fucking animal don’t you bitch.”
I was stunned. I read his words over and over. I was amazed at myself for feeling so tremendously aroused by his degrading, abusive writing.
My mind struggled to understand why I felt so excited. I am not really a feminist, far from it I suppose, but I do believe in feminine equality, and yet this message that so thrilled me, was so degrading and demeaning.
His messages continued in this vein for some weeks. Time and again I was disgusted at myself for spending time with someone like that, but again and again I went back to it.
Because of my continued attendance to his messages, he became even worse in the things that he said to me, then after a short time he told me that I was, “such a filth pig and a fucking whore” that I wouldn’t be able to help myself, and would have to meet up with him.
Of course I ignored this, knowing that I could never meet someone like that.
How wrong I was. His messages had me mesmerised. “When is a good time for me to come?” he asked me, “I want to piss in your face and fuck your throat,” he wrote.
I wrote back unconvincingly that I wouldn’t.
“You’re fooling yourself bitch,” he replied, “you’re fucking gagging to lick my balls and suck my ass before I fuck the shit out of you.”
I knew that it was true, and I simply wrote the one line, “any Saturday.”
“That’s more like it cunt,” he wrote. “Can you get to the motel Hi-point sometime after lunch?”
I knew of the place. My hands trembled as I typed one word – “yes.”
He told me how we’d meet.
After that I couldn’t get the thought of it out of my head. Again and again thoughts of the possibilities came into my mind. A dozen times a day I told myself that it was crazy and that I wouldn’t go through with it, but I knew that when the time came, I wouldn’t be able to help myself.
The day came. All morning I felt a great nervous tension within my mind and body.My husband is involved in sporting activities, and at about eleven in the morning, he went off.
Left alone, and with the specified time approaching, I was now filled with tremendous excitement. Still I kept telling myself that it would be madness to go through with it. I showered, dressed in my sexiest underwear, and spent a long time with my makeup.
Leaving the house, I walked to the corner, and soon found a cab. I didn’t give the motel address, instead I asked to be taken just nearby to it. I noticed that my hands where physically shaking as I paid the cabbie.
I stood still on the pavement as the cab drove independent escort girls off.
No, no, this is madness, you can’t possibly do it, I told myself.
Turning in the direction of the motel, I could see it just a short distance along the street. I began to walk along the pavement, in that direction.
On coming to the motel, I glanced in at it. The curtains and doors of the units were all closed. Was that man in there, perhaps looking out and watching me, I nervously wondered.
I hesitated, then began to walk on, but after a few steps stopped again and walked back, and stood next to the motel sign as I’d been told to.
Glancing again along the motel front, I half decided to turn and flee the scene. Yes, it was crazy I suddenly made up my mind. I took a couple of steps as I made a move to get away from there. Just then, one of the motel doors opened, and a guy stepped out. I was suddenly riveted to the spot, my mind in a whirl and my heart pounding.
He was looking towards me and grinning broadly. He only took a step or two out of the motel door, then beckoned to me to come.
I was trembling all over. I hesitated for just a fraction of a second, then turned towards him and walked deliberately forward.
Being confirmed that I was the woman that he’d been expecting, his grin now turned into a lecherous leer.
“I wasn’t sure you’d come,” he said quietly as he took my arm and led me into the motel room.
Stepping thought the doorway, I gasped and uttered a cry of shock. There before me were two more men, both grinning lecherously.
Turning quickly back towards the door, I was just in time to see the first man closing it securely.
The men descended upon me. Three pair of rough hands rapidly stripping my clothing from my body. I didn’t resist, I just stood there transfixed by fear.
I was naked. My natural instincts were to cover my pussy and breasts with my hands, but they were swept out of the way as the men felt my thighs, my bottom, my breasts. Fingers slid into my ever so wet and slippery pussy, exploring inside. My breasts were squeezed and mauled roughly.
Now the men were stripping. Big, strong, hairy, masculine bodies. My eyes devoured their big, hard cocks that swayed out stiffly before them.
“Get down cunt, and suck me,” one of the men said gruffly as his heavy hand pushed me to the floor.
My hand took his balls and lightly held them. I leaned forward. My lips parted and I slid my mouth over his wonderful, big, hard cock.
Oh God, it’s happening, I thought to myself.
I hardly had time to suck up and down that wonderful cock, before I heard one of the men say, “get the slut onto the bed.” I was bodily manhandled and fell back across the bed where I’d been dumped. Instantly hands were on the insides of my thighs and spreading my legs. At the same time my head was straddled and the same magnificent cock entered my mouth at the same moment that I felt my pussy being penetrated.
Oh my God, this was more than ever I’d imagined. I felt my body and mind relaxing. I moved my legs further apart and brough then up into the air, either side of the big, wonderful man who was fucking me so lustfully. I sucked firmly and lovingly on the cock in my mouth. I felt the hands of the third man mauling all over my body. I was in heaven.
“Suck my balls bitch,” the man sneered as he pulled his cum dribbling cock from my eager mouth. I opened my mouth wide and carefully took his big, hairy, hanging balls into my mouth, lapping around them with my tongue.
“Now lick my ass Escort in dubai you dirty fucking whore,” he growled as he eased his balls from my mouth and moved forward to present his anal hole to me.
My heart was pounding. This was filthy, but I wanted to do whatever these men wanted.
I tipped my head back slightly so as to raise my mouth to the man’s hole.
A slight odour of stale sweat filled my nostrils. My lips encircled that disgusting part of this guy who was straddling my mouth. I slid my tongue out and lapped across his hole. I was filled with lust at the thought of such crude debauchery.
“Fuck yes, lick my shit hole good you fucking whore,” I heard the man grunt up above me. I did indeed lick him good.
This was so revolting and disgusting, but I was so worked up that I would do anything that these men asked of me.
“Let’s spit roast the slut,” I heard one of the men suggest.
I was laying across the bed, with my head hanging backwards over the edge of the mattress, and being mouth fucked as the man suggested this latest idea. The cock immediately was pulled from my mouth, and a sharp slap on my thigh was accompanied by a growling order for me to get on my hands and knees.
I obeyed with alacrity, and my head was roughly grasped in the large hands of one of the men. His cock pushed its way deeply into my mouth, while at the same time I felt hands grasping my hips, and my pussy being penetrated by another large, hard cock.
My every dream was coming true. I gave myself in totality to these three men, not that I needed to give, because they were taking whether I wanted it or not – but I did want it, oh how I did so want it.
The game of being spit roasted went on for some time, with the men frequently interchanging their positions of whether they were fucking my mouth or my pussy.
Eventually a new delight was introduced into the game, when one of the men announced that he was going to “fuck her up her ass.”
Oh my goodness, what a dirty thing I felt myself to be, but that was exactly how I wanted to feel.
My ultimate degradation came when I was made to sit on one man’s large cock, so that it penetrated right the way up inside my bottom, then to lay back on top of that man, while the other two fucked my mouth and pussy. Oh how wonderfully delicious I felt with those three men’s bodies pressed hard against mine, and with their gorgeous cocks all inside my body at the one time.
I was manhandled this way and that, pushed into this position and then that position. I was being treated not like a person, but like some play thing for the men to use. I loved it. Their bodies surrounded me, pressing against me, hands mauling me, cocks in my mouth, my pussy, and my backside, at times all three at once. It was unbelievable that this was happening to me. I was driven to a frenzy of lust and I wanted more and more of this wonderful treatment.
I was delirious with lust. These men could do anything at all with my body, and I would love whatever they did. I was panting and gasping, choking and gagging on cock, lustfully pumping my body back and forth onto cock up my pussy and up my bottom.
When I’d first entered the motel room, and had found that there were three men rather than just the one who had brought me in off the street, I had been terrified and feared for my safety. Now though, I was totally relaxed and willing to give myself to them for their perverted and defiling games with me.
I was fucked and fucked and fucked in every possible way. I sucked and licked and kissed, and in fact gave everything that I could to the men.
Eventually it was over. The men had all cum in grunting, groaning, frenzied passions of lust.
I lay there wanting more. How could I ever be satisfied by my husband again.
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