SLIPPING INTO DEPRAVITY - Ch. 26, Romance, Lies and Semen (Patreon)

ROMANTIC INTERLUDE, PART TWO OF FOUR

KAYLEY POV

We walked hand in hand to the subway, descending down the stairs at the Bank Mall. I couldn’t help smiling as we walked, with each step, I felt the slickness of Bruno’s semen in me sliding between the walls of my pussy. It was just the faintest trace of slipperiness, and if I hadn’t known the source, I might not have even noticed.

It made me feel naughty.

I looked up at Sam, grinning happily at him.

My man, my man, what are you up to? I wondered.

I had a good idea what was coming next.

'Oh no, I’m about to be groped on the subway!' It wasn’t rocket science. I’d been groped in the park, the street and the bar. We had a theme going.

And let’s face it - subway groping was a thing, unwelcome in most cases, a secret thing for lovers, and subject of lots of raincoat-guy fantasies. Subways were one of the few places that we were all jammed together as humans, with nothing to do but pretend not to look at each other, while sneaking little peeks.

We waited a few minutes on the platform. It wasn’t rush hour, so it was crowded but not unbearably. Sam ushered me into the last car.

“You know,” Sam told me, as he guided me to a seat, “there’s an informal etiquette that’s evolved in the subway. No one choosing it, just kind of naturally sorting itself out.”

“Oh yeah?” I asked, glancing around. Our car was half filled, a couple of obvious street people, some blue collar types, few upscale, mostly average, mostly men, a few women, different ages.

“Yeah,” he said. “Turns out the head car, up by the conductor, that’s upscale. That’s where the transit police will be, the cops, the upper class and business types. They gravitate there. If they can’t bet the top car, they get as close as they can.”

“Middle cars are blue collar. People who just want to get on and get off as soon as they can. Workers coming and going. People on clocks. The easiest cars to get on and off.”

“And ass end?” I whispered. “Derelicts, degenerates and reprobates?”

Sam laughed, and put an arm around me.

“My kind of people,” I whispered.

His arm snaked under my sweatshirt, pushing it up so he could cup my bare breast under it. The move was not subtle, it lifted the bottom, exposing part of my midriff. It wasn’t obvious, but if you looked at my sweatshirt, you could tell where his hand was.

I smiled a little and blushed, letting my head swivel casually. Eyes flicked towards us, and flicked away. His gesture had been noted. I smirked.

“You’re taking a big risk, Mister,” I said.

“Oh yeah?”

“We got away with it in the park, and we got away with it on the street. We even got away with it, mostly, in the Bar.”

I paused, feeling the subway car lurch into motion. Everyone swayed just a little.

“I don’t think we’re going to get away with it cooped up in here. Too many eyes.”

“Maybe I have something else in mind?” Sam said, and kissed my forehead.

“Oh?”

But the cad just smiled, like a Cheshire cat, and wrapped his arm around me again, as we felt the lurch of the subway train starting up again.

The subway train rolled through a couple of stops as we sat there, looking at our fellow commuters. Sam still had his smile on.

Finally, I felt Sam shift as he sat beside me, his arm around my waist lowered and he gave me a gentle push on the bottom.

“Why don’t you stand and grab one of those stirrups? “

There were a couple of people, mainly men, standing and hanging off the stirrups, even though there were still a few seats. I guess some people just preferred to stand.

It didn’t take much for me to figure out what he had in mind, but standing here in the car, we would be much more exposed. At the park or on the street we were able to find spots we could get away with. Even at the bar everyone was focused on the soccer game and barely anyone looked at us. but compared to that, we were literally center stage in the middle of a subway car.

“Are you sure about this?” I asked.

“Nervous? “He asked grinning. “If it’s too much for you we can skip it.”

I blushed. Oh bring it, I thought. We’ll see who is chicken.

“I see your hand, and I’ll raise it. We’ll see who is nervous!” I said.

“Looks like someone has a royal flush,” he said grinning. “Is it getting a little hot for you? “

“Dressed like a frump?” I scoffed. “Yeah, I’ve always wanted to be the center of attention while dressed like a bag lady “

I stood up and move to the center of the car, grabbing a stirrup. I looked back at him, and he nodded. I stuck up my tongue out at him and then turned and look forward. Take that! He let me stand there, brushing slightly against another passenger, getting used to the sway in the stop and start acceleration of the subway train.

After a few moments, I felt hot breathe on the side of my neck and shivered with pleasure and delight, as I felt Sam's hands slipping up under the heavy sweatshirt. As he reached under, rising for my breasts, the motion pushed my sweatshirt up exposing my bare pink belly to anyone who happens to be looking. Even though his hands were out of sight under my sweatshirt, there could be absolutely no doubt about what we were doing, to anyone who paid even a flicker of attention. My blush was back, brighter than it was before. I kept a tight smile on as he kissed my red cheek.

“How are you doing?“ He asked.

“You are such a bastard, “I replied lightly. My clit was tingling.

“Too much?” he asked.

“I didn’t say that," I replied, staring straight ahead.

“Working for you?“

“Bastard,“ I replied, smiling.

Even though I was wearing the equivalent of a yurt I felt absolutely naked. The distance between this feeling of helplessness nudity, and actually wearing a tent was thrilling, it made my pussy clench and I shivered with rolling wet surges between my legs. I wondered about Muslim women in head to toe burkas, did some of them ever find a thrill going naked under their covering? I tried to imagine it.

“I can’t believe no one is noticing,“ I said, as I stared straight ahead, careful not to look directly at anyone, but trying to watch everyone from my peripheral vision. “Is anyone watching?“

“Everyone is watching,“ Sam said, as he licked the side of my neck, and let one hand slide down from my breast, diving under the waistband of my skirt, Sliding over my mound, and teasing my clit.

My pussy had a great big, wet clench, like a vice, squeezing between my legs. I stiffened and tried to suppress a moan.

“Evil, “I whispered, while blushing with excitement.

God, I hope he wasn’t intent on making me come in the middle of a subway car. And if he was, I hoped I didn’t have a squirting orgasm, because that would be really embarrassing..

Not that I would say no to a squirting orgasm in the middle of a crowded subway car. It’s not that I’m a pervert or anything, it’s just that if a squirting orgasm comes knocking, you never ever say no to that. It’s ‘Yes please! And may I have another?’ no matter what the circumstance..

I’m just saying it would be embarrassing.

So I hoped that wasn’t his plan or maybe I hoped that it was. I mean how many people get to have a full-blown orgasm in the middle of a moving subway car, in the middle of a crowd.

Were people really watching us? There had to be some. Mind your own business was a thing on subways, so people are careful not to look at each other, not to make eye contact, to just kind of politely ignore each other as dull scenery they passed through on the way from somewhere to somewhere else. Sam wasn’t being blatantly obvious. But he also wasn’t being shy at all.

Anyone who bothered to look would figure us out instantly. And if they noticed, I couldn’t imagine them looking away. So was this his game? An exhibitionistic voyeuristic game added to the groping? He was diabolical! I kept staring straight ahead, trying not to focus on anyone who might be watching. Maybe the whole subway car? But so far no one was saying anything or doing anything.

We were not making any kind of stir.

It was hard to get my head around

As the minutes past, and I hung there in a state of embarrassment and excitement, certain I was being watched by someone, but terrified to look to see who, Sam continued to tease me, his hands and arms slipping in and out of my sweatshirt and skirt.

From one stop to the other, people got on or got off, I was too relentlessly focused on staring straight ahead to really have any sense of who was arriving or departing. But I became aware that more people were hanging onto the stirrups

“Hey!“ Sam said pinching my nipples hard enough to make me shudder and twist. “I want you to close your eyes for a few minutes don’t open them until I tell you.”

The instruction set my already beating heart racing. I wasn’t sure what he had in mind, but if he was going to expose my breasts or pull down my skirt I definitely wanted my eyes closed for that. I shut them tight

For a moment I felt Sam pressing into me, his hands moving strongly all over my body, recklessly, indifferent as he cupped my breasts and slipped a finger all the way down. He leaned into me, pressing against me, and I could feel his erection. For a moment his weight was on me. He took one hand out to run fingers through my hair, pulling it away from my neck so that he could run his tongue from my shoulder all the way up to my ear lobe bringing a deep sigh from me.

He dropped my hair. I could still feel his hot breath as his weight against me eased. He reached around to grab my breast on top of my sweatshirt for all to see. If anyone had doubts about what we were doing that settled them. His other hand also slipped out from under my clothes to slide down my hip and thigh. The touch made me shiver.

Sam’s hands lifted off me for just a second before returning hungrier and more eager than ever. He leaned into me again, so that I felt his weight against my back, and he reached around with both hands to cup my breasts from the outside. He explored, his hands running luxuriously up and down on the outside of my clothes, for everyone to see, announcing his ownership and possession of my body. I wanted to purr Like a cat, in sensual bliss.

“Open your eyes “Sam whispered.

I opened, feeling Sam groped me wantonly. For another minute I stared straight ahead then the familiarity of a face in my peripheral vision dragged at me and I turned my head.

Sam was hanging onto the stirrup right beside me, side-by-side. He smiled like the cat that ate the canary, insufferably pleased with himself, as the reality sank in for me, that I was being groped by a complete stranger. Our eyes met. He nodded pleasantly.

“Nice tits,“ a rough male voice whispered in my ear, as a stranger’s arms slipped under my sweatshirt, lifting it, so that my belly was exposed as high as my ribs and his hands clutched my breasts.

My stomach was full of butterflies, and I could feel my heart, skipping a beat, I had this urge to laugh, or to scream, to push away my molester, but if I did that his hands wouldn’t be on me. A dozen contradictory emotions and impulses flew through me almost instantaneously a dozen smart, sharp remarks to Sam, or my mysterious molester follow them.

But in the end. all I could do was give a moan that was half a hiccup, and whisper “oh, my!“

“You are a hot little slut. I would love to fuck your filthy tight hole,” the stranger behind me hissed into my ear.

“Thank you,“ I whispered, feeling vaguely surreal. “I don’t think we could get away with it here though.”

“You’re a nasty little cunt aren’t you. That’s all that’s stopping you?”

“Oh yeah,” I whispered, there was something enticingly dirty about the way he talked. “I am.”

“You love cock don’t you?”

“I love it.”

“I’d like to get my thick cock all up in that nasty dirty hole and stretch you right out.”

“You want to stretch me out with your big cock?” I whispered. “Wreck my pussy? Then show me how you handle my tits. Touch me all over, run your filthy hands over my body.”

It was as if I was being groped by a phantom. I heard his voice. I felt his hands on my body, but I didn’t see him I had no idea who he was, or what he looked like. Had Sam arranged for his presence? Or was I being felt up by a completely random stranger?

There was an excitement in the thought. I deliberately refused to turn my head to even glimpse whoever it was. The idea of being groped by a stranger was wildly, exciting. As was the thought of other strangers watching me being molested.

His hands played mainly with my breasts, pinching my nipples and squeezing my orbs, not quite painfully. I felt him stroke my belly, felt his breath, hot and humid on my neck. When he leaned into me, I thought I could feel his erection in his pants. His hand slid down into my waistband, but didn’t reach as far as my pubic mound, to my disappointment.

“This is what you had in mind?” I asked. “Some asshole with a big dick putting his hands all over your girl.”

“You could be my fucking girl,” the stranger whispered. “I wouldn’t fuck around in a subway. I’d fucking take you, and plow you till your nasty cunt was gaping.”

Sam just smiled and nodded.

“Part of it.“

Part of it? I wondered what else did he have up your sleeve?

“Would you share me with your asshole friends?” I asked the voice behind me. “Would you all take turns wrecking my dirty holes until I was loose and sloppy.”

“Believe it,” he grunted, spittle hitting the back of my left ear, as he mauled my breasts roughly.

Sam’s eyeline drifted to a spot behind me.

“It’s been a few minutes, I think that’s enough for now,” he said to my assailant.

From behind me, the rough male voice whispered “Come on man, I haven’t even got to her pussy yet. “

“Maybe your turn will come around again, “Sam said, his voice was friendly, but there was a definite ‘don’t fuck with me’ vibe in it, “but for now times up.”

His turn? I wondered. That implied this wouldn’t be the only stranger. But even as the thought went through my head, I felt my filthy molester give way. Someone else, considerably taller, stepped up behind me. This stranger was bolder, I could feel him stooping behind me, his chin barely above my shoulder as his hand dived beneath my skirt, his poem, sliding over my pubic mound, hovering above my clitoris, as slender fingers pushed between my lips. I gasped, my knees going a little weak, My body going loose as it hung from the stirrup. Sensing my boneless state, this new assailant wrapped an arm around my belly to hold me up. I felt my ass pulled back slightly into his hips snuggly nestling there and I felt his hard cock between my cheeks wiggled against it involuntarily.

How the fuck were we getting away with this in the middle of a crowded subway car? Was everyone else blind? Were they in on it?

“Are you OK“ a male voice whispered from behind me. I nodded my head, careful not to look back at him.

“Oh, I’m fine,“ I assured my new molester. Just in case he had any qualms about the voluntariness. I hadn’t planned or expected on being groped by complete strangers on a subway. But now that I was here, and Sam stood beside me It was breathlessly exciting

My new assailant was bold, but not skilled. He loved playing with my pussy, first, with one hand, and the other, and finally plunging both between, pulling my butt against his hips, so he could grind. But his hands were not skilled or knowing enough to bring me to orgasm, instead he just floundered recklessly around my clitoris and lips, fingers sometimes slipping inside, heating me up, but never quite bringing me to a boil.

“That’s enough,” Sam said. “Next.”

Jesus, next? What had he set up? What is this all planned? Spontaneous? How many more and what were they going to do?

A hand grabbed my ass, and another slid across my belly, even as my prior molester withdrew slowly. For a moment I felt four hands on my body, making me swoon. My hand tightened on the stirrup, which seemed my only anchor in this wanton sea of touching.

This new claimant was bold, pulling up my skirt from behind momentarily exposing my butt. For a moment, my ass was out there for the whole subway car to see. That had to be clear, I decided, there was absolutely no chance, I’d not been noticed. I was standing in the middle of the subway car, had three men groping me one after the other, and now my ass was hung out there. Everybody in the car must be watching me.

Maybe my gropers really were complete strangers. Simply the watchers who had witnessed my defilement and were brave enough to volunteer to participate.

The next one momentarily lifted my top to expose my breasts. The one after lifted my hair to lick and bite the back of my neck, making me shiver uncontrollably. All of them found my nipples, some slipped lower. Each one touching me in vividly distinct ways, my mind reconstructing the shapes of their bodies, tall, short, skinny, fat, muscular, by the way they touched me, the way their bodies pressed into mine, the sound of their breathing or their words.

A new set of hands, a body nestling against me from behind, hands confidently moving under my ribs. A hand slipped below the waistband of my skirt fingers sliding against my clit, stroking it with deliberate awareness. Breath pushed my hair along the edge of my ear.

I knew.

“You’re a woman?” I guessed.

“Yes,” a coarse female voice said. Too many years, too many cigarettes in that voice. “Do you mind?”

“Not at all.”

Fingertips slid across my clit in a figure eight motion that made me breathless, and I didn’t even try to hold back the gasp. I just let her play with me in the knowing way that a woman has for another’s body. Having your own clitoris is really an edge when you’re fingering someone else’s.

I felt her head nuzzling me, as if to kiss, and I turned away a little.

“Let me kiss you,” she asked.

“I don’t want to see who is touching me,” I explained.

“Then shut your eyes.”

“Okay.”

I closed tightly, allowing her to turn my shoulders and head. Soft lips pressed on mine, I tasted cherry lipstick thickly applied. I felt a probing between my lips, and opened to her tongue, tasting indefinable exotic flavours. In my mind, she was older, late middle age, heavy make up, aged like cheap wine.

Sam let her go on longer than anyone else, and she made the most of it. She licked the back of my neck, made me gasp with razor sharp fingernails on my nipple, and beating time on my clit like she was taking my pulse. Again and again, she took me to the edge of orgasm, until I was shaking, but she could never quite get me there. The closest she came, to the point where I could taste it, she blew it by switching to a tongue kiss. Was it deliberate? Was this arranged with Sam? Surely Sam wouldn’t be so cruel.

Eventually, she whispered in my ear, “It’s been fun.”

Then she was gone.

I felt someone step up behind me, my skirt being lifted, higher and higher, until my bare buttocks were exposed. A rough hand grabbed my ass cheek, squeezing it.

SLAP!!!

“Yow!!” I think I heard the slap before I felt the sting of it, and the pins and needles sensation, and the spreading warmth, I’m a stranger slapping my ass.

An arm slipped around me, pulling me close to a male body. I could feel the heat of him behind me, The solid feel of a male body. In my mind, I imagined a squat, swarthy, blue collar worker, thick with muscles that had never seen a gym only hard labor.

I didn’t look, preferring the image in my mind's eye.

“Sorry about that,” came another male voice, not sounding sorry at all, behind me, as he let the heavy fabric drop. “That ass looked so ripe I just had to give it a swat.”

“I don’t mind,” I gave him a theatrical giggle.

“That is a fuckable ass,” he whispered, trying to be shocking.

“Yes it is,” I replied, wiggling invitingly.

I felt my skirt dropping, as he stepped close behind me, his body pressing into mine. His arms slipped under my sweatshirt, fingers dipping along the waistband of my skirt. His breath behind me smelled of curry and spices. I had the impression of just a little taller than me, thick ropy muscles.

Pointedly, I stared straight ahead. It was just more exciting, not seeing them, not knowing them, my imagination going in overdrive, every touch a kind of sensual minefield.

“Is that your cock?” I whispered. Holy shit, it couldn’t be anything else. I was filled with a mixture of elation at his, our boldness, and terror at going too far, and anticipation and revulsion at how much further we might go.

He froze for a moment, his bare erection between my cheeks.

When I didn’t scream, he whispered, “Yes.”

When I didn’t respond, he slid it up again between my bare ass cheeks. My heart was pounding, I was hot all over, my pussy clenched with every stroke. His hips shifted, and for a second, I felt him sliding against my pussy lips, the angle wildly wrong.

“I don’t think you can fuck me this way,” I said. It was a careful precise statement, avoiding completely the question of whether I wanted him to or not. I mean, if he could, if he was the right height and I was the right height and it was the right shape to go in... Would I?

“Yeah,” he agreed after a few futile thrusts. I felt him stabbing clumsily against my asshole, but again, it wasn’t positioned right. “I didn’t think so anyway. Can I grind my cock between your cheeks? I want to come on your ass.”

I was wet and the situation was crazy enough for me to say yes. But he didn’t wait for my assent, he simply started doing it. I squeezed my butt cheeks, thinking to help him, but he slapped my ass, and ordered me to loosen up. Consciously relaxing my cheeks, I let him sink deeper between my buttocks, his thrusts becoming more urgent.

He grunted, his grip around body tightening. One hand pawed my breast, the other wrapped around my waist. He snorted against the back of my neck, his weight pressing into me. I reached up and grabbed the stirrup with both hands, hanging on, as he humped his bare cock between my ass cheeks. He wasn’t being stealthy at all, it was instantly obvious to anyone. He was practically fucking me right out in the open, his urgency and intensity bringing sympathetic gasps of arousal from my body.

Everyone could see. That was going through my mind over and over. Maybe they couldn’t see his cock, his pants were still up and he was grinding against my naked ass. They couldn’t see my ass, he was pressed so hard against it. My skirt was long, but if you looked, you’d see where he’d hitched it up my butt. Still, some complete stranger was masturbating on me, grinding his bare penis on my bare ass, in front of everyone, on a subway car. Geez! It felt surreal. Eyes wide, I turned my head to look at Sam, who looked back with cool detachment, his face expressionless.

“This has got to be the weirdest fucking thing ever,” I grunted in time to the thrusts. Sam nodded.

Then whoever was behind me came, grunting loudly, going stiff behind me. I could feel him thrusting as he tried to press my ass cheeks together around his cock. I felt wet spurts reaching as high as my tailbone. Then he went still. He moaned loudly, and I moaned with him, feeling his ejaculate sliding down my ass.

Were those tiny gasps I heard, somewhere behind me? They knew he’d come, his frantic grinding and thrusting, his gasp and moan made that obvious. My moan confused them. Did they think he’d gotten his cock inside? Did they think I’d been fucked? Not my pussy the angle clearly wasn't right, then surely my ass. Did it look like I just had anal sex in public?

I wasn’t that bold. But it thrilled me to think that someone thought I was.

I could feel his arms withdrawing, him moving behind me, as he put his cock away. An instant later, he stepped away, and my skirt fell down over my butt.

For a second, I was alone, panting softly, my pussy squeezing. My inner thighs were wet with my own lubrication, and I could feel his semen oozing slowly down the crack of my ass.

Someone else forced their way behind me, shouldering the previous out of the way. The hands that grabbed my ass and clutched my breasts were hungry, desperate... and familiar.

“I want to fuck that nasty cunt so hard,” he whispered in my ear, his breath moist. “Can I? Can I fuck that trashy hole of yours with my big filthy cock.”

“I don’t know,” I purred. “Can you? Where would you fuck me?”

I expected him to say pussy, or maybe ass.

“I know a place,” he rasped, hands hard on my breasts. “Two stops up, just a little down. We won’t be disturbed. Come on. Can I fuck you? I want fuck that dirty cunt.”

There was a place. Suddenly, it had shifted, this wasn’t getting felt up by a perv. His cock could be in me, he really could fuck me, if I let him.

“Can you?” I whispered, playing for time as the thought rolled around in me. “I don’t know if you can. Are you hard enough?”

“Oh I’m so fucking hard,” he whispered. “I’ll fucking fill that little hole.”

“Maybe,” I teased, “this hole has been used a lot. If you’re not big, I might not even feel you.”

I could feel him against my ass. He was plenty big.

“I’m not sure.”

“Oh I’m fucking big, you feel that. My fucking filthy nasty cock won’t just fill you, I’ll fucking stretch you right out.”

“Oh promises!” I laughed.

“You like to get fucked?” he asked. “You get a lot of cock in your holes? Tell me.”

I thought for a second and whispered back to me.

“My... pimp,” I turned my head to indicate Sam. God, he looked so grim. Was I going over the line? “He took me to this bar the other night, and he made me fuck everyone there. He sold me to strangers, just took money right out in the open, and then he’d send me to the men's room with a guy.”

“You loved it.”

I was riffing, practically free associating.

“I loved it! All those cocks. After a while, I just stayed bent over the toilet and just let them walk in and shove it in. After, I walked around the bar half naked, and there was a big black cock...”

He groaned loudly, his finger pushing across my clit, dragging down between my lips. I groaned in time, feeling him hump hard against me, on the verge of orgasm.

I had a sudden inspiration.

“He did it blindfolded,” I said. “So I couldn’t see. If you want to fuck me, same condition, I can’t see you. If I see you, in this car, on the way there, even doing it... It’s off.”

“You got a blindfold?”

“No,” I whispered, staring straight ahead. “I don’t want to see you. Not at all. You’ll just have to be really careful I don’t see you. Stay behind me.”

“What if you look?”

“I promise I won’t try to look,” I said, “if you promise to stay out of sight. I want to get fucked and never know what you look like.”

“Fuck!” The voice swore. “You mean it? I can fuck you? I just stay behind, stick a bag on your head,. In out, drop a load in your filthy hole?”

“Time’s up,” Sam said.

“Come on,” the stranger protested.

“Someone else gets a turn. You can come back.”

With a reluctance that left him trembling, he stepped back. An instant later, I felt new hands snaking under my hoody once again, rapt with eagerness, almost rushing as they felt my body. These were different

But two stops later, we got off.

The last thing I remember as we departed the car was the sound of scattered applause.

&&&

“So we doing this?” a familiar voice came from behind me on the subway platform.

I jumped.

“Well?” the voice insisted. I felt a hand on my ass. Out here on the platform, suddenly the voice seemed more dangerous, more scary. What had been sex talk on the Subway car now seemed a genuine possibility. It’s always easier and more satisfying to talk shit when there’s no chance of following through. I stepped forward, the hand left my ass.

I’ll admit, I was a little scared, and a little excited. Was this a ringer? Or an actual stranger? I was dripping, I had cum oozing down my cheeks, I’d been fondled and fingered and trash talked in a public subway car in front of an audience of strangers, each of my perpetrators utterly faceless and anonymous. My head was spinning.

Yes? The thought of giving myself to, being given, being taken by this anonymous trash talking stranger felt wildly exciting, and wildly dangerous. I couldn’t bring myself to say ‘yes’ out loud.

Instead I looked at Sam, our eyes met, and he nodded gravely, as if he knew my thoughts. I licked my suddenly dry lips and swallowed. Very carefully, I gave him a single small nod.

Sam looked over my shoulder.

“Take us. You’ll stay behind her, give us directions. When we get there, you wear a condom, no fucking negotiation.”

“Done.”

“She changes her mind,” he said, his voice flat and dead, “it’s over. She catches sight of you, it’s over. She turns around and looks at you, it’s over. You screw us around in any way, it’s over and I’ll fuck you up.”

Sam was being scary. Was that for me? Was it a pre-arranged role play? Or was he really giving this guy the gears.

“I just want to fuck her,” the stranger said. “Give her good. She likes a hard cock? I got a load for her. No harm, just a good fuck.”

Sam nodded, still looking over my shoulder.

“Which way?”

“To start, when we get topside, down Macy for a block. You go, I’ll follow....”

We climbed the escalators to main, I was vividly aware of him behind me. Right behind me. A few paces? A few dozen? Was he way back, creeping around the corner, or close enough to whisper in my ear? I had no idea, and the uncertainty was thrilling.

As we got out onto the street, I head him again, giving directions. Cross here, go there, always instructing, always behind, never quite the same place behind though, sometimes closer, sometimes further, or to the left or right.

I was careful to look straight ahead, as Sam and I walked, holding hands.

He noticed my posture and smiled.

“Orpheus,” he whispered. I smiled and nodded.

“I’m looking to get into that nasty orifice with my big load, I’m going to split that with my log,” our guide said from behind us.

Sam and I burst out laughing. Partly it was because our phantom fucker’s trash talk had almost entirely died away as we'd walked. I’d kind of enjoyed it with its near ridiculous perversity. You can’t hear “I’m going to ram my big ass truncheon into your nasty slut hole” and take it too seriously.

Partly we laughed because he’d gotten it so wrong. Orpheus was this Greek musician who was deeply in love. One day, his girlfriend dies, but he can’t take it. So he goes all the way into hell to get her back. He plays the harp so beautifully, that they decide to cut him a break, and he’s allowed to take his girlfriend out of hell... except for one condition. On the way out, he can’t look back, or the deal is off. He gets almost all the way out, back to earth, but he can’t help himself, at the last minute he looks back...

In a really fucked up, backwards way, that was us. Except it was his trash mouth that had won him some pussy, and we were on our way to a sleazy fuck site, he was our asshole Orpheus and I couldn’t look back, if I did....

“What?” The voice said behind us with the beginnings of real anger. “Am I a fucking joke? This is funny? Fuck you. I thought this was serious.”

Sam and I glanced at each other. I wasn’t sure how to handle it.

“Kayley,” Sam guided me to a newspaper box. “Lean over the newspaper box. Elbows flat, please. Arch your back. Look straight ahead, no matter what?”

I obeyed, submissively. Honestly, the way the day had gone, bending over a newspaper vending box and staring ahead, like one of those pointer dogs, barely rated. But there would be more, the thought sent a quiver of excitement through me.

“Come here,” Sam ordered, not speaking to me. Then I felt a little nudge as he patted my thighs. “Spread wider.”

I spread.

Sam reached down to the bottom of my skirt and lifted it over my hips. I gasped with the audacity, and the sexual rush.

“Holy shit!”

A hand swung against my pussy, suddenly, I gasped as two fingers slipped inside me. I couldn’t believe, I was being fingered on a public street. Up ahead, I could see pedestrians walking towards me, a woman in sunglasses, dressed in yellow, walking an afghan hound. A businessman talking to his phone. Neither noticed me.

The skirt was swept back. It had barely been a few seconds, but it left me breathless.

“There’s your Orpheus,” Sam said. “We’re serious. Now step back a few feet so she doesn’t catch site of you.”

Sam helped me back up, I found myself gasping for breath. He took my hand.

“Too much?”

I shook my head.

“Just... surprised.” I swallowed. “This is really going to happen?”

“Unless you change your mind.”

I glanced at him, as always, his expression was calm and measured.

“What if I do?”

He shrugged.

“Then Orpheus is out of luck,” he whispered. He looked directly into my eyes. “One question: Is this scene hot or not.”

“Hot?” I pondered. “Depraved. Weird. Fucked up, definitely. Risky. Crazy. A really bad idea. Just... weird. A thousand things. But yes, hot.”

“Then you’re doing it,” he said, saving me from the ordeal of having to say yes. I wanted it, I just didn’t want to say it out loud. It’s nice when you have a man who practically reads your mind.

It was the culmination of the bizarre experience in the subway, and even if physically disconnected, it felt of a part. To be fondled and groped so intimately, to be brought so close, to be touched and used, to be made so wet and orgasmic, to feel my ass cheeks pressed against a cock, feeling semen oozing down my ass. To be handled by faceless hands for a faceless audience... I didn’t know how to say it, but I needed this fuck, this anonymous, faceless fuck, I wanted it to be complete.

Behind us, Orpheus called out another change of direction, and we strolled down a side street. He swung out behind us, moving to the other side as we turned, so I didn’t accidentally glimpse him.

As I tracked the movement of his voice behind me, it came home, all over again, I was on a journey to be fucked in the lair of an invisible man, a man behind me that I’d never seen and would never see. All I knew of him were his hands on my body and his hot breath and filthy words in my ear, and soon his hard cock in me.

That was kind of scary exciting, and I clutched Sam’s hands harder, my smile tight and eyes flashing with excitement when he looked at me.

“Okay,” voice said. “Stop.”

We were in front of a yellow six story building. Main floor was a boarded up storefront, beside some sort of multi-ethnic grocery. Between the two was an arched entrance with the words “Atlas Building” and 606 under it. We turned slowly enough for our Orpheus to make sure he was directly behind us.

“This is it?” I breathed, squeezing Sam’s hand again, my stomach was full of nervous butterflies. We were almost here, I felt tense, my stomach muscles clenching against the butterflies inside. Was this really a good idea?

Going into an unknown building with a complete stranger whose only connection was groping me on the subway? A rundown, dirty looking building containing who knows what. We didn’t know who he really was. Or whether he was armed, or psychotic. We didn’t know if he had a biker gang waiting up there for us.

Definitely this was not a good idea.

I shivered.

For a moment, fear warred with anticipation. Sam and I looked at the entranceway, then our eyes met.

“Into the breach rode the six hundred,” he whispered. “Into the unknown.”

He knew my reservations. Somehow that gave me courage, deciding it for me.

“No reward without daring,” I whispered back.

“Up on the fourth floor,” the voice said behind us, I could tell he was excited, there was an extra tremor in his voice, an urgency to get his cock wet so raw, it was as if he could already feel me wrapped around his erection.

We went through the doorway, Inside the small lobby it was grimy , the floors have not been mopped , there was garbage in the corner .

“The elevator is fucked,” he said behind me, “we will have to take the stairs, it’s up on the fourth floor.”

“Fuck!” I said

“It’ll be worth it,” he said confidently. I wasn’t so sure. Worth it for or him maybe, but I couldn’t help worry a little bit about what was up there and what we would be walking into.

I glanced again at Sam hoping that he was in control. Maybe this was all prearranged , or maybe this was spontaneous. I wasn’t sure how I felt. If I knew it was prearranged then that was safer but it kind of took some of the excitement away. If it was spontaneous then we were working without a net and the risk was real, and if things went wrong, I hoped Sam could handle it.

As we went up the stairs as we went up I was careful to turn my face to the wall every time we turned to go up the next flight just to make sure I didn’t catch a glimpse of him . Perhaps it was a silly game I thought to myself it felt bizarre but it was also exciting to see . And even with the element of scary I wanted that excitement that sense of working without a net.

It didn’t get better, we kicked aside litter on the steps, I spotted a used condom. There was graffiti on the walls, but that ended by the third floor. Each floor looked grimy and unoccupied. Lights were burnt out. Whoever owned this building wasn’t spending a lot of money on upkeep.

“Take a left,” the voice ordered as we arrived at the fourth floor. I noted he was puffing slightly, exertion or anticipation?

We went around a short corner and came to an open area with three office doors and an old wooden desk against the wall. I wondered about the desk had it been some sort of reception for the offices or was it just this used furniture waiting to be taken away . It was as grimy as everything else and if any of the offices were still in use there was no sign of it. The floor looked like it hadn’t been swept, and there was a film of dust on the old fashioned frosted glass inset in the office doors. Very sleazy film noir.

“Here we are,” the voice said. I spotted another used condom next to the desk, gross. Apparently we weren’t the first people to use this place for something naughty.

“I do security for this building and a few others, there’s nobody on this floor, no one comes here except now and then some freaks getting high or getting laid.”

I looked at the desk doubtfully It seemed cleaner then the rest but that wasn’t saying much. The surface was half covered with old newspaper, I could see coffee rings staining the exposed wood. I wondered If there were semen stains on its ancient yellow wooden surface. I guessed that this was where I was going to get fucked.

“All right,” I said as much for Sam and myself as for him. My heart was beating faster, I was vividly aware what would happen in the next few minutes, even though unsure of exactly how it would happen.

“How do you want to do this?” I asked, this was his place after all.

“Take off the skirt,” he said, suddenly he was right behind, I felt his presence, hungry and overwhelming. “I wanna see that ass.”

“Go ahead,” Sam said and I moved, feeling unlocked by his permission.

I slipped the skirt down my hips letting the heavy fabric drop and pool around my ankles. The thing with heavy clothes, is that sometimes, there's something sensual about taking it off. The way it can just fall away from you with a thud, the feeling of liberation of nakedness that follows. My ass had never felt so bare.

I stepped back into him feeling his body against mine, his hand reached for my bottom, his fingers digging in forcefully, as I bent forward to pick up the skirt and lay it across the desk, brushing old newspapers aside. I liked the idea of a layer of fabric or two between me and whatever it was crawling microscopically across the stained yellow wooden surface of that desk.

He hunched over behind me his breath so hot and heavy in my ear that I knew that if I didn’t look straight ahead at all times I would be able to glimpse him in my peripheral vision. His hands reached around me diving between my legs roughly stroking my clit, and pushing against my lips trying to work his fingers inside. As he was bending me over his movements were hasty and rough. He was all over the place he reached up with one hand under my sweatshirt to play with my breast. And then with his other hand he started lifting the sweatshirt until it was up around my arms.

“Take this shit off,” he ordered. I lifted my sweatshirt but instead of taking it off completely, I kept the sleeves on and pulled it over my head leaving it wrapped around my shoulders. That seemed to satisfy him.

His hands were all over my breasts. I could feel his frantic, syncopated breath in my ear. I closed my eyes to make sure that I didn’t see him. He pushed me forward until I was leaning with my elbows on the desk. I could feel him behind me, his pants dropping, his bare hips pushing against my ass.

“Condom,” Sam ordered.

“Aw come on man I’m clean,” he complained.

“This isn’t a negotiation,” Sam said.

“No,” I said, “if he’s clean it’s fine.”

I wasn’t sure if he was clean, but there was something visceral to this, something I needed. I didn’t want to have to go all this way to delve into this exotic adventure simply for the feel of a thin Layer of latex inside me. I wanted flesh, I wanted his hardness, I could feel his erection just millimeters away his body just rubbing against my pubic area, and I wanted to feel him, the real him. Risky, but I wanted it.

“It’s okay,” I repeated, “just don’t come inside me. Pull out when its time.”

I hesitated

“I’m not on birth control so don’t come inside me!”

It was a lie of course. I have this idea, foolish and idealistic notion, that if you tell a man he could get you pregnant, then he’ll try to pull out. I should know better. It’s a fair bet, if it’s someone you’re seeing, or that you at least know. Paternity suits and all that. Some random stranger? Phht, he’s all up to knock up some woman he’ll never see again, unless someone is looming over him.

But, maybe it would encourage him to do as we asked, particularly with Sam close by. And without his ejaculation inside there was less risk of disease, and it would make Sam feel safer.

“Are you sure?” Sam asked warily.

“She’s fucking sure,” he said quickly, “the nasty slutpig just said so, she wants real meat not rubber!”

Nasty slutpig? What a fucking mouth on him! And he was right. I don’t know, some women can’t tell the difference. But I always could, I could always feel when it was latex and when it was hard flesh. There was something thrilling, satisfying, fulfilling, knowing a bare erection was in me, feeling the smooth skin, the rigidity, the heat and shape of it, the living quality of it.

He pushed me further down on the desk until my face was flat against the greasy grimy wood. At the same time he stepped right up behind me, bending forward, trying to reach under for my breast and at the same time press his cock against my entrance. I spread my legs wider for him feeling the pressure of his weight pushing me hard against the edge of the desk

And then he was in me in one convulsive thrust! I could feel his cock rushing smoothly into me in and then up , his erection felt curved inside me pushing up against the back of my vagina, he began to thrust and pinned as I was I could do nothing but to take it, held immobile.

“Oh fuck,” he groaned, “this nasty little cunthole feels like slime heaven. She is so fucking wet man she’s fucking dripping I just slide right up on into her like her cunt is an oiled sleeve, she’s just a total fuck-vise, a filthy cunt-pig.”

He thrust savagely over and over into me his hands all over my back and reaching under. I stretched out my arms to make it a little easier, trying to lift up a little to give him access to my breasts. He was moving furiously with wild lunging strokes that forced me flat, and jammed my thighs against the hanging edge of the desk again and again.

I thought he would come in seconds but then he stopped, instead trying to gain control of himself. After a moment he started up again thrusting hard, the edge of my desk bit into my thighs uncomfortably. The way he had me it was almost impossible to move to lift or lower my hips to spread wider or narrower I was completely immobile and that made it harder to find the right spots inside me, the sensitive places that would get me to orgasm. Despite the delirious, out of control, feel, it was almost frustrating.

He pulled out.

“Turn around he ordered, "I can’t feel your fucking pig-tits enough, I wanna see them. I wanna watch my cock jam into that filthy snatch of yours.”

“But I don’t want to see you,” I said.

“Is there a blindfold?”

“No,” Sam replied.

Well pooh, I thought, he’s supposed to be in charge, he should have thought of one. Slipping, Sam, I thought.

“Next time.”

Next time? Not with this guy, I thought, I could trade him in for a hyperactive monkey. All he had going was potty mouth and a cured dick.

Then I realized: Sam didn't miss much. If he didn't bring a blindfold it would be because he didn't expect it to be needed. Which meant he hadn't planned this. Which meant this asshole was real, it was all real, we were working without a net and this was really a stranger's cock rutting in me. The shock of realization left me breathless and delirious, my pussy spasmed, so close to orgasm I could taste it.

“Then shut your eyes,” the stranger snapped, thrusting recklessly into me. He pulled out again, and I almost screamed, the orgasm dissipating before it blossomed. Fuck him! Just... fuck! So close!

“But I might open them,” I complained, my voice almost a snarl of frustration, “It’s too tempting.”

He growled with frustration, and pumped back into me, his thrust punishing. It was funny, I was willing to be on my back, I even preferred it. At least it wouldn’t bruise my thighs on the edge of my desk, I could wrap my legs, roll my hips, enjoy it more. But the whole point was not seeing him. If I gave into temptation to glimpse, it felt like it would wreck it, I’d lose something of the wildness of the experience, the weird anonymity of him that I needed.

I had a momentary epiphany, this was like the glory holes - the anonymity of not seeing the men, just their cocks, except a step beyond. There was something there, something important... but his fucking was too intense to concentrate on it, and the thought got away from me.

Cover my face with newspapers or a paper bag? Yuck. Cover my eyes with my hand? Maybe, but it was more of an active role than I wanted. Sometimes you just want to lay back and take it. His hands? No his hands wanted to squeeze my tits.

He pulled out, or fell out, and pushed inside me again, startling me, filling me up with one thrust. His fucking made his cock feel bigger than it probably was, more aggressive, a conqueror’s cock, despoiling and subjugating. I wished I could reach under to stroke my clit, but his weight draped over my back, pushing me flat. He reached up, pulling at the sweatshirt wrapped around my shoulders pulling the fabric, until he looped it over my face. The bottom of my sweatshirt, turned inside out, covered half my head.

He paused.

“Can you see out of that?”

“No.” I was completely blind. Only my mouth wasn’t covered. Hardly dignified, but it worked.

“Good enough?”

“Yeah,” I said, but he wasn’t waiting for an answer, he flipped me over, physically pulling me onto my back, so that I was half off the skirt underneath me, one butt cheek pressing against the ancient wood.

“Oh fuck!” I cried out, as he rammed his cock back into me from a completely new angle, as I took him on my back. His cock was definitely curved, as soon as he entered it seemed to leap up ramming my g-spot hard.

“Take it all bitch,” he spat out, as I wrapped my bare legs around his hips. I felt hairy flesh of his hips and thighs and knew his pants must be around his ankles. The traces of fabric I felt were the bottoms of a shirt. His cock jammed right up inside me, and his pubic hair was so overgrown, that it felt like a loose pad slapping against my mound.

“You’re so fucking tight,” he swore. “How’s a nasty cuntslut like you so tight? Your pimp must have dicks lining up for you, stretching that filthy hole.”

“Fuck yes,” I groaned, “stretch my nasty pig hole, wreck it, ruin it.”

“I’ll fucking wreck you,” he snarled, pounding hard, I could feel the sweat and spittle flinging off his body, spotting my breasts and chest. "Ruin that nasty ass pussy, fill that pig hole full of filth."

“Do it!” I cried in sexual heat.

His cock didn’t feel as large from this angle, but he was in deep. He’d shifted to rapid, intense, short thrusts, pounding wildly with frantic energy. I lifted my hips to feel him better, wrapping one or another leg around him, sometimes both, sometimes kicking. Now deeply seated in me with no chance of falling out, he reached for my breasts with both hands, squeezing and pulling on them, his fingers like claws.

For a moment, one hand reached my throat, squeezing. I pulled at his arm with both hands for a moment, choking, and then he released, returning to mangle my breasts.

“You fucking slut,” he hissed, “you’re loving this. Getting that disgusting hole wrecked bareback by some random asshole you’ll never see. I should fucking come in you. You deserve it.”

“Don’t,” Sam warned, his voice flat and ‘don’t fuck with me.’ “If you try to come in her, I’ll throw you down the stairs.”

His fucking paused, stuttered, lost it’s rhythm. I felt him lifting, and knew he must be twisting to look at Sam.

“It’s cool,” he said carefully. “It’s dirty talk, that’s all. I’m not going to. I know the rules.”

Sam didn’t reply, but he must have nodded. The stranger’s tempo resumed, even more frantically, as if now that he’d been caught up he felt like he needed to finish fast before Sam changed his mind. The hands returned, clutching my breasts so savagely, pinching and pulling on my nipples with frantic urgency. There was no more trash talk, just laboured breathing, like a sprinter racing for a finish line, somewhere in my wet folds, deep in my wanton pussy.

He grunted deeply, I could feel his cock swelling rapidly in me, suddenly going deliciously hot as he strained to get deeper up inside me. It pulsed, and I could feel his ejaculation, the micropressure inside my vagina, an eery slickness. This wild elation came over me. I bent one knee, pressing my heel against his butt cheek. I wanted it.

“Remember,” I hissed for Sam’s sake, glorying in the sensation of each spurt, even as I held him in me, “don’t come in me. You can’t come in me. When you’re ready, you have to pull out.”

“Oh fuck!” he groaned, thrusting convulsively. He tried to pull out, but I lifted up and reached out with my hands on his hips to hold him in. He dragged me down the desk an inch or two, trying to free himself, but I held tight. With a moan, he stopped trying to pull out and reversed thrusting deep in me, his semen literally churning up from his balls, coursing down his shaft to flood itself deep within my vagina.

“Are you close?” I demanded, glancing towards Sam and shaking my head. I released his hips, as he spurted continuously helplessly in me. “If you’re getting close, you have to say so and pull out.”

He pulled out.

Oh man! I thought. Geez! Read the room!

“I’m coming,” he cried out, and holding his dick in his hand, spurted three or four times onto my pubic mound.

I kicked my heels hard against his butt cheeks pushing him towards me, my hands pulled on his hips, and he dived into my wet hole once more, thrusting deep as he expelled the last of his sperm inside me. I exulted, he'd tried not to come in me, but I'd won.

I reached down, with a fingertip, dragging it through the trails of semen on my pubic mound, teasing my clit with a wet fingernail. I sighed. I wanted it all, every drop, the fucker had tried to deny me. But at least there were a few drops to show Sam. Most of him was mine.

I’d loved it, but more the idea and experience of it, the thrill of adventure. I was dripping wet, even without his cum in me, but I had only come close to orgasm. His fucking had felt good, had felt wild, both the physicality of it and the twisted psychological aspects. His ejaculation inside me had been primordially satisfying but not orgasmic. There had been times when it was sort of going there, but it never made it. What a bummer.

“That was great,” he said. “Thanks. You are one nasty fuckslut. You're a four star pig.”

I just took deep breaths, ignoring him, laying back and finger-spreading the few beads of semen on my pubic mound. I heard him grunt and pant, moving away from me. A moment later, I heard Sam’s voice.

“He’s gone,”

This had been joyously, perversely, kinkily fun, the whole thing. A thrilling adventure of daring and risk that just sent me racing. As fucks go, this was more foreplay than anything else. It felt more like a warm up, I wanted more.

A complete stranger had fucked me. I had no idea what he looked like. He was a voice, grasping hands and fingers, a filthy filthy mouth, and a hard cock that had gushed its come up inside me, with Sam not even knowing. Now, I was full of him. His and Bruno’s ejaculate merged inside me, his ooze mixing with my own body. A relationship distilled to the sexual, defined entirely by his erection and my submitting to it.

Mind blowing.

I took a few breaths, reveling in the sensation, naked, sweating, used, my body tingling with excitement, with the thought of what we’d just done.

Finally, I pulled the sweater up over my face and looked.

Sam was standing there.

Next to him was another young man, I knew instinctively he wasn’t the one I’d just fucked. He was definitely younger, less assured and when he spoke, I knew it wasn’t the same guy. He was tall, perhaps a couple of inches on Sam, and skinny to the point of emaciation, with a multi-coloured punk haircut, and some goth band T-shirt, oversized, hanging off him, with the sleeves ripped off. No trace of needle marks on those bare arms, although his left shoulder sported the beginnings of a tattoo. Black skinny jeans with strategic tears, and black leather wristbands completed the look.

Was he wearing eyeliner? I bet he was stealing it from his mom.

“Can I have some?” he asked.

&&&

“He followed us up,” Sam said with careful neutrality..

“You guys looked hot, like you were up to something. I just wanted to watch,” the punk kid explained.

“He was sneaky,” Sam said, “I didn’t notice him at first. When I did, you were already going at it.”

Sam shrugged.

“So I let him watch,” he said. “Rather than wreck the scene.”

I nodded, surprised that I wasn’t particularly disturbed. An entire subway car had watched me get groped by multiple strangers. Normally, a peeping tom watching you get fucked should ruin your day, that’s such an invasion of privacy. But I found I wasn’t disturbed.

Actually, I was a little disappointed. A complete stranger had seen me naked except for my runners and the sweatshirt tangled over my arms and shoulders. He’d watched me get fucked. He knew the face of the man who fucked me, the face I didn't know, that was kind fo freaky. Freaky hot.

And I hadn’t known he was watching it all? I kind of missed out.

If I’d have known the punk was watching... it would have increased the excitement.

Was it just par for the course, for this crazy, fucked up, wild day? Sure, fuck a subway troglodyte, and why not have a random stranger watch? Or was this a set up? Sam seemed unnaturally calm. Was this actually something he’d engineered? I couldn't help wondering. But more and more I felt this we were working without a net.

I didn’t even bother to close my legs or cover my nudity. I wanted him to see me. Fuck, he'd already seen everything without my knowing. I liked the fact that I was aware of him, seeing him, boldly showing what he'd perved over.

Look at me, I commanded mentally, and worship my vagina, bow before its beauty and power!

“Did you enjoy the show?” I asked, spreading my legs a little wider. I put a hand over my pussy lips, as I felt them open and the stranger’s semen ooze forward. I didn’t want Sam to see that. Maybe he knew, maybe he didn’t, but it made me feel naughty, like I had a special secret of my own.

“Fuck yeah,” the young man said. His voice was unsteady. He was tall, gangly, just coming into physical maturity. He’d be huge once he grew into his frame. His eyes were shining with excitement, and his tight jeans were tenting with his straining cock.

“My name is–”

“No names,” I cut him off. “We don’t tell you who we are. You don’t tell us who you are.”

“Okay,” he said, staring at my naked, sweaty body. Every pore of him was just radiating sexual energy. He was practically vibrating. His sheer intense focus on me made me feel powerful, as if I had some control over him, like he was a toy.

I smiled.

“You want to fuck me?” I teased, playfully.

“You know it. I’d love to fuck you. I’d fuck you so good.”

“I don’t know,” I said. “I’ve already been fucked good. It was such a good cock, it filled up my nasty hole and just pounded the shit out of me. I don’t know if I need another cock.”

“I’d make you come real good,” he said. “I’d last and last.”

I looked at Sam. He shrugged, his eyes narrowed. Whatever I wanted. If I said so, he’d kick the boy down the stairs. Or hold my ankles open wide while the kid fucked me.

“Would you pull out when I told you?”

Or not pull out, if I didn’t let you? Would you come inside me, if that’s what I really wanted? The thought was silent.

“Of course I would,” he promised. “And I’d fuck you longer than that asshole. I last longer than five or ten minutes.”

“I don’t know,” I teased. “It’s already been pretty hard. Maybe I don’t want someone to last. Just come fast.”

“I can come quick!” he gushed in an instant about face. I caught Sam’s flicker of a smile smile. “I can shoot real fast. Come on command. Just quick.”

He liked the scrawny punk. So did I. I dunno, sometimes its like that - someone says hello or tells a joke or story, you just automatically kind of like them. Someone else says the same thing? Nothing. Our eyes caught. Sure he was a wannabe punk who stole his mother's eyeliner and perved on decent people having kinky semi-public sex, but we both liked him.

“Mmm,” I said, biting the tip of my little finger.

For some reason, that drives men wild, I’ve never understood it, but I’ve used it.

“I dunno. I don’t feel like fucking again... But you know what? If you want to come over here and stand between my legs and just look at my naked pussy and tits, I’ll let you jerk off in front of me. You can come all over me. Would you like that?”

“I’d love it!”

I nodded.

“Sam,” I said, “watch the stairs, make sure we don’t get any more company.”

Sam nodded and retreated to the corner. From that angle, the punk’s body blocked him and he couldn’t really see what we were doing. He wouldn’t necessarily be able to tell whether punk boy’s cock was above me... or in me.

Suddenly, I felt really naughty.

“Whatever you do,” I said, my eyes merry, reaching out to take his cock in my hand and guiding it towards my waiting pussy, “don’t put your cock in me. That’s not allowed.”

I pulled him, pressing him to my lips, enjoying the feel of him sliding inside, my pussy opening and shaping around his erection. He buried himself deep, I let my fingers rest on my clit.

“I can only jerk off. No going in you,” he repeated, his eyes were shining. He glanced towards Sam, and I nodded. He nodded back. He was smarter than the other guy, at least.

“That’s the idea,” I said warmly, his hips were thrusting slowly in me. I could feel the strain it was taking him not to just go all out.

“That’s right,” I said, my naughty grin was insane. “I want to watch you jerk off, and then come all over my belly. Can you do that.”

“Fuck yeah~” he said, I could literally feel his cock vibrating in me. It was deliriously exciting. He could barely move without risking giving us away, and he knew it. He laid his knuckles on my pubic mound, to give the impression he was masturbating. I was the tight wet pussy he’d been dreaming of all his life, but now that he had it, he couldn’t fuck, he could only soak, filling my tight hole, but unable to move.

The idea had me flying with excitement. I wondered if I could make myself come, and started stroking my clit fiercely, before his eyes, trying to guide his knuckles and fingers against it. He stared down at his shaft buried in me, my fingers working just above it, utterly fascinated.

“Oh that cock is so beautiful,” I whispered. “And you’re jerking it so hard.”

“It is hard,” he ground out, “I’m so fucking hard for you.”

“I bet you’d like to put it in me,” I teased loudly. “But you can’t.”

“Okay!”

“That’s a gorgeous cock,” I teased. “Maybe I should let you put it in.”

He thrust convulsively. I cast an eye towards Sam. He was watching the stairwell, distracted but listening.

“Would you like that?”

“I’d love it!” he said. “Can I?”

“Mmm, I’ll think about it,” I said.

Over by the stairs, I saw Sam turn his head towards us momentarily. The punk kid pulled out, until only his cock head was in me.

“Mmm,” I said thoughtfully, meeting his eyes and nodding affirmatively, “I don’t think so.”

I glanced meaningfully towards Sam, and back to him. He almost looked in Sam’s direction, and then back at me, and nodded ever so slightly.

“Okay,” he said, “I’ll just jerk off. Can I come closer.”

“That’s fine,” I said, holding my lips wide open, and my legs wider. “As long as you don’t put it in me, you can come all over me. You can have your cock right above my pussy. Even rub it on me.”

He stepped forward smoothly, his cock sliding back up inside me with no resistance at all. I released my lips, feeling myself enfold him, feeling him fill me. He wasn’t huge, but he felt hot and urgent. I could feel him hardening and swelling, just being in me. I rocked my hips gently, even as he tried to fuck with small controlled thrusts, continually glancing towards Sam.

“Stop!” Sam hissed.

My heart stopped. The youth pulled out as quickly as he’d slid in, his cock now swollen and purple and visibly on the edge of ejaculation. He looked so frightened I had to suppress a giggle. We weren’t doing anything wrong, at least nothing that would truly upset Sam. I was just having a little fun behind his back, going further than he knew. Naughty, rather than bad.

“Hey man.” We heard a male voice, Caribbean by the accent. “What you doing hanging around?”

Fuck, there was some one out there! My heart started up again, pulse pounding away.

“I’m just waiting for the management to come by with keys,” Sam said confidently, “I’m thinking of leasing.”

Another male voice, laughter, the lilt of the Caribbean.

“Oh shit man,” the second voice said, sounding relieved, “we thought you might be waiting to whack us. Ambush, you know?”

“Come on,” he said. “You’re three big muscular guys and I’m a skinny white dude.”

“Skinny white dudes with a gun will kill you quick enough,” a third guy said. “Or a knife. Or hopped up on meth, or desperate for a fix. White boy comes after you, cops don't even care. White boys, they’re scary.”

Sam chuckled and they joined him.

The youth and I looked at each other. He was still hard as a rock, and unconsciously, his cock brushed against my lips and clit each time he took a breath. I shrugged and reached down to stroke it’s velvet sheath, but he resisted my gentle tug.

“Be nice to have a tenant in here who’s not a fuck up,” one of them said. “What’s your name?”

“Sam.”

“Robert.” Pause, they were probably shaking hands. “This is Omar, and Aiden. We’re just stepping out for a second. Come up to our studio sometime, we’re on six. So what business you thinking of doing out of here?”

“Chinese import/export,” Sam lied easily. “Fungibles contracts. Mostly paper transactions.”

“Well, if you need to haul stuff,” Robert said, “freight elevator in the back works. I don’t think they’ll ever get around to fixing the front.”

“I was wondering about that...” Sam replied, and then they kind of fell to friendly chatting as they opened up to Sam. Because that’s how Sam is, people just open up to him. The punk kid and I waited nervously, but the studio owners showed no inclination to look around our corner. After a few minutes, they all shook hands and moved on.

“Coast is clear,” Sam whispered when they’d vanished up stairwell.

I nodded. I glanced at Sam, he was just in line of sight, but his back to us, watching the stairwell more attentively. He moved around the corner. I reached down and pulled on the youth’s cock, setting my heels in his ass cheeks to encourage him forward.

“Jerk that cock,” I whispered. “I want to see it. I want to watch you jerking off right in front of me. Do you want to come? I’ll let you come on my pussy. Squirt all over my pussy and mound and belly. You want to shoot your load all over me?”

“Oh god yes!”

With a groan and a smooth thrust of his hips, he slid all the way inside me. With Sam’s back to us, he could finally fuck without restraint for at least a moment. And a moment was all he needed as he bucked hard, ramming up into my hot tight wet cunt. His cock was hot and hard inside me, straining for all it was worth, pulsing almost rapidly. He was coming inside me, spurting semen deep inside. His face was both drawn and slack, his jaw opening wide.

“Oh that’s it, baby,” I found I was grinning devilishly, “shoot that big load all over me. I love watching you spurt. Shoot it all.”

He moaned deeply, his whole body shaking. I couldn’t feel his ejaculation. It was odd. I’d felt the other guy cum. Maybe that was it, I couldn’t feel semen erupting in me because it was already full of other men's come? Or maybe the fact that I couldn't see meant I'd felt more intently? I did feel his cock, the rigid excitement of it, the way it pulsed, the micro-flexes in his hips and I knew he was ejaculating.

“That’s a good boy,” I soothed. “Good boy. Mama is so proud of her boy, making a mess all over her.”

“Holy fuck,” he whispered, visibly deflating. Literally, I could see the air going out of him, his muscles seeming to sag. He was pale, breathing hard, his whole body drooping. Christ, I hoped he didn’t collapse on me. Again, no orgasm, but somehow I was breathlessly elated and sexually thrilled.

Movement from the corner of my eye, Sam. I reached down and pushed his pubes, shoving his cock gently out of my vagina, and up until it rested on my pubic mound, and rubbed my hand all over my pussy, hoping to convincingly smear cold semen around so that it would look like he came on me.

Rather than in me.

Sam was beside me suddenly.

“Holy fuck!” our guest whispered, standing there like a zombie. His cock was still in his hand, a lone bead of semen hanging from a glistening thread. It still looked full and hard, but I thought it must be softening.

“How was it?” Sam asked.

I smiled at him, buoyantly elated. Another perfect stranger had just ejaculated up inside me, literally under Sam’s nose, and he had no idea. Somehow, that was wildly exciting. I loved being bad, in a way I could hardly fathom.

But as naughty as that was, I just loved the idea of it, that someone had come in me, that their cock had been deep inside, and that they’d come their guts out. Their semen was now mine, my treasure. I owned them.

What the fuck was going on with me?

But it didn’t matter, I was elated. I felt like I could float.

“It was pretty wild,” I said. “Just fun. Just fun and spontaneous and transgressive, like something out of porno or a wet dream.”

I looked over at droopy.

“How about it baby?” I asked. “Did you enjoy shooting your big old load all over mama’s slutty business?”

Please don’t say anything stupid, I thought at him.

“Holy fuck,” he whispered again. He seemed to gather himself. “That was amazing.”

“Made your day?” I grinned.

“Made my life!”

I laughed and sat up. I felt movement inside me, ah, there it was. Hello oozing semen, welcome to Kayley’s vagina, now roomier than usual.

“C’mere and give me a kiss,” I told him, reaching out and pulling him towards me. I gave him a chaste peck on the cheek.

“All right, baby,” I said. “Now run along, Mommy and Daddy have some business to take care of.”

We watched as he turned and went down the stairs and out of our lives. I turned to look at Sam, grinning happily, as I spread my legs wide and lifted and bent my knees.

“What about it lover?” I called, holding my hand teasingly over my pussy. Actually, I didn’t want him to accidentally see semen leaking out after three men had bred me full. I didn’t think I was overflowing or anything. But better safe than sorry. “Do you want to take a turn? Win the prize? Ring the bell? Go all the way?”

Instead, he smiled and kissed me passionately, cupping my exposed breast.

“Lovely idea,” he whispered. “But I don’t think we should stay here too much longer. Someone else is sure to come by.”

“If someone does,” I whispered back so quietly that it was almost inaudible, “just make them an offer. I feel very obliging.”

Fuck! Had I just said that?? Out loud! What was wrong with me?

“Tempting,” he said. He handed me my skirt. “But I have other plans.”

“Pooh!” I said, pulling on the skirt, despite it’s harsh treatment, the elastic waist was still good. Then I felt it, movement up inside me, a little slippage. I felt a cold bead of semen slip from my slightly swollen, slightly dilated lips, and trickle a few inches down the inside of my thigh.

I swished my skirt to distract myself, wondering just whose semen had oozed from me. The fact that I had no idea, was deliciously naughty.

When had I become the sort of woman, who had complete strangers’ semen, multiple loads of it, leaking down her thighs? I loved it.

“This is a terrible porno,” I said, as we descended the stairs.

“How so?” he asked.

“Well, for one thing, I’m dressed like a trailer park hippy granola soccer mom!”

“Still on that?” he laughed, taking steps down.

“Of course,” I teased. “What’s the fun of being a slut if you can’t dress like one.”

“I think there are other benefits,” he replied.

“Yes,” I said. “Cocks! And Orgasms! So far, four and zero. I have been groped, fondled, played with, exposed, and fucked, practically in public. I have made four men come. But have I come myself? No. Not even once!”

“What about Bruno?” he asked.

“Pshaw!” I replied.

We turned a corner and stopped as three black men came down the steps. As they saw us, their eyes lit up they.

“Hey guys!” Sam said.

One of them looked me up and down appreciatively. I smiled and tried to catch his eye, but he was already focusing on Sam. I was a little miffed. I knew it! Dressing like a frump was awful!

“Did the landlord come,” the one whose voice I identified as Robert, asked.

Sam shrugged. “Nah, I got a voicemail, they’d rescheduled last minute. After I was already here.”

“Fuckers,” Aidan said, "they're always pulling shit!"

“No big deal,” Sam replied easily.

“Is that your girl?”

“Hum?” Sam said. “My software expert. Yeah, guys, this is Kayley, my fiancé. Kay, these are the guys you might be working under...”

“Sam!” I said as they chuckled at the inadvertent entendre, that I knew wasn’t inadvertent at all. Working under them? That was for me. Promises promises.

“Sorry,” he said, “I just meant that they’re lessees on the suite a couple of floors up. Over us.”

We exchanged a few more words, then they proceeded up past us. I settled for watching their asses as the went up the stairs. Those were fine asses indeed. Once they were gone, we continued our descent.

“Bruno! Huh!” I picked up where I left off. “That doesn’t count. That barely qualifies as an orgasm. Baaaaarrrrrellllyyy. It was like stepping off a curb. I’ve had better orgasms from a firm handshake.”

“But technically...”

“Okay, Mister Smarty-pants!” I rolled my eyes. “Technically four for them and sort of one for me. This is not keeping up with porno standards. In a proper porno, every single one of them would have been hung like stallions, and I’d have had multiple orgasms, really big ones.”

“I notice you talk a lot about stallions,” he said, “since Leroy showed you all those animal dick dildos.”

I stuck my tongue out at him.

“Don’t distract me!” I warned him. “I’m on a rant. The rant of a sexually deprived goddess!”

“So you admit it’s distracting.”

I decided to ignore him. I mean, I might have watched Texas Trojan videos a few times lately, but that was the showmanship of the thing. There was something bizarrely fascinating about animal themed dildos, and admittedly, some of them were sort of beautiful. But really, no interest. It was quite silly really.

Anyway, never mind that,

“In a proper porno, they would have all been hung! And young! And attractive, like I’m talking six packs and tattoos and tans - authentic California tans, not the spray on kind, with all kinds of staying power. Jesus, all I got was average sized white guys who lasted... minutes! I was robbed!”

“How do you know they were all white?” he asked, on the final landing.

I stopped dead.

“So the guy... was?”

“I’m not telling.”

“Black?”

“Not telling,” he said. Oh he was so smug. If I didn’t love him to pieces, he’d be infuriating!

“Asian?”

“Not telling.”

“He was black, definitely.”

“Can’t say.”

“What kind of black?”

“Lips are sealed. Your rules.

“American? Caribbean? African? African?”

“Uh uh. Maybe, maybe not.”

“Asian? South Indian?”

“Mm mmm.”

“Arab? Iranian? Korean?”

“Not telling.”

“Hispanic!”

“You’re not even asking about the other guys who groped you?”

“You’re insufferable!” I accused. “Now you’ve got my head spinning.”

“Not yet, but soon,” he said.

“You diabolical bastard!” I said. “I knew it, you’re planning something!”

“Guilty as charged!”

“I should go back upstairs, find those three hot black guys and beg them to fuck me properly!”

“Go ahead!” Sam teased.

“I have my pride. I’m not going to ask three strange men to come and fuck me, no matter how hot and black they are!” I announced imperiously, then struck a wheedling tone. “Would you go and ask them for me? Come on! Please! Pretty please!”

He laughed.

“If you loved me,” I pouted, “you would do it. What kind of husband doesn’t get his wife three big black hung strangers for her birthday. The kind of husband who doesn’t love his wife or care about her needs, that’s who!”

“It’s not your birthday,” he pointed out.

“My vagina will have cobwebs by that time,” I whined. “Cooooobbbbwwwweeeebbbbsss. An empty mansion full of priceless treasures, but never used. Just gathering dust. I’ll have to rent it out to one of those Halloween Horror houses.... And here we have Kayley’s vagina, watch your step folks, be careful of the cobwebs... All this space, gone unfulfilled, unused. Press your ear to her pussy. Listen, can you hear the echo? See that clitoris? That button has never been pressed. Not even once! They say if it was pressed, something wonderful might happen. World peace, unicorns, who knows! But her husband never pressed it. Oh tragedy. Don’t let this happen to –”

Sam was snickering. We made it out onto the street. He took my hand, pulled me close and kissed me.

“You’re insane,” he said, grinning. “And it’s still not your birthday.”

“Wait!” I said. “Are you implying that you are going to get me three, black, young, hung porno studs with erections out to here and awesome staying power that just won’t quit for my birthday? Because if you are, I take it all back. I totally love you. Also, my birthday is next week. Just enough time to go off the birth control!”

He laughed out loud.

“It’s not,” he said, “and you’re still insane.”

I shrugged. My inner thighs were wet from trickles of semen. How much did those guys put in me anyway? A quart apiece? It was a wonder I wasn’t sloshing as I walked. Yes, I was now definitely one of those girls who had semen leaking from them and running down their thighs. I kind of liked it. The idea of it, not the semen running down per se, that was borderline uncomfortable.

“I must be,” I said. “I’m totally in love with you.”

I sighed.

And fuck, I thought to myself, this is Sam. Special Note to myself: Do no, absolutely do not, go off birth control around my birthday, just in case Sam remembers and has a special ‘gift.’

My man, he was a hopeless romantic. And he never forgets.

“Lead on, mystery man,” I said sadly, “what’s the next step in this tour of carnality and degradation!”

“Are you enjoying?” he asked, his voice was serious. Was there a bit of doubt? Oh shit, had I gone too far in my fucking with him?

I kissed him quickly on the lips.

“Oh my god!” I cried. “Yes! Yes! Yes! You wonderful evil madman. It’s been perfect every step of the way!”

I mean, sure, I could have done with more orgasms, or any orgasms.

But apart from that, perfect.

And I suspected he wasn’t finished.