Drool

At home, Joanie was begging for it up the ass and Doug was giving it to her when suddenly, he exploded in what would be his first orgasm of the day. Joanie immediately crouched low over the tile floor, letting the thick come drip from her gaping asshole. She then bent low, her ass pushed proudly into the air, her small tits brushing against the cold tile floor and began to lick up the cum, saying, "Taste this baby, it's divine." Doug got down and helped her eat his cum and they kissed passionately, the way lovers do. There was something about licking up the come that had dripped from her asshole and then sloshing it between this mouths that gave them a strange pleasure; it was about submitting to the will of passion, whatever it asked for.

At home, Tom was fucking Jane as they stood in the shallow end; she grasped the edge of the pool as he moved into her. These two gorgeous people, slick with pool water, hair wet, shuddered against each other, the world and all the coming traffic of the day was far away. They were pussy and cock and the rest didn't matter. She loved to be fucked from behind, she loved the way her breasts moved, the way her belly felt tight, the way her back arched, her neck strained, her legs braced, her toes spread; she loved the way his cock drove into her, hitting her clit, rubbing it, in and out, speeding up as she called out. Ending, exhausted, that feeling like a drug, making every limb heavy.

At home, Paige forced herself against Anthony's cock, trying to get it all in, to make it hurt a bit. He moved tenderly inside her, and as she focused on his pulsing cock, his masculine smell, his hands spread strongly across her chest, his breath in her ear, she came like a capitulation, in ultimate surrender. After coming, she switched him to her asshole and as she shoved herself into him, pain exploded in her head, she cried out, burying her fingers in her pussy, screaming like a warrior successful in battle. Helpless against this show, Anthony came inside his wife's asshole and she, revved up with adrenaline demanded that he clean her with his tongue. He did, and they kissed wholesomely, a small droplet of come running down her cheek.

TWO

Although it was Saturday, some people still had to work. Jane, now dressed in the scrubs of a massage therapist, went to her first appointment of the day. She knocked on the door. Mr. Dawson answered it, dressed in a towel.

"Hi, dear," said Ms. Dawson, "Come on in."

"Okay, just give me a few minutes to get set up."

"Sure, do you want some coffee?"

"Yes, please. I really need it this morning."

Soon, the massage was underway. Ms. Dawson was completely naked on the table, Jane rubbing her tired muscles with her strong hands. Jane and Ms. Dawson had a special deal, which began to play out as Jane began massaging the woman's ass cheeks, slowly and expertly moving her oiled hands deeper into the spread crack. She moved one finger into her asshole pushing it slowly in and out; then, as the asshole loosened, she inserted two, three, then, cautiously, four fingers in and out.

Ms. Dawson's body was remarkable for a woman her age. Her skin was smooth and tight, her body was long and lean and her ass was gently rounded, showing no signs of sagging down her firmly toned legs. She always seemed so perfectly in control, so powerful and sure of herself. Jane loved the opportunity to rub her fingers deeply into her body. There was never any tension, but it was a pleasant exercise for both.

"Okay, let's have you flip onto you front." Jane began massaging her at the neck, and slowly moved down her body, stimulating her large nipples, massaging her hips and then moving her hands over her pussy and onto her inner thighs, feeling the muscles loosen and relax and her touch. As the melodic sounds of new age music played in the background, Jane moved her fingers into her client's pussy, feeling the woman squeeze and thrust with each perfectly trained movement. As the hour was ending, Ms. Dawson came softly onto her therapist's hand.

"Okay," said Jane, "how do you feel?"

"Great, very relaxed. Thank you. So, now it's time for your appointment. Why don't you go into that room, get undressed, and all be right with you."

Jane went into the room Ms. Dawson had directed her to, undressed and waited. Soon, Ms. Dawson entered now dressed in a pair of latex shorts, stiletto heels, and a bowler hat. Ms. Dawson had picked out new clothes for her slave. She gave Jane a pair of red thigh high stockings and a lacy garter belt that extended about six inches down her thigh. She also brought lots of rope. Soon, Jane was dressed and standing in the center of the room, a hard, leather collar dug into the underside of her chin. Ms. Dawson had strung a rope from the ceiling, and attached it to a pre-made harness, designed to chafe against her hard nipples.

Ms. Dawson held a riding crop and slipped it through Jane's legs, slapping at her inner thighs. She said, "You're going to be a good little slut for me. And, if you are, I might just let you come." She slapped her pussy emphatically, to send home the point. Then she began to slap her tits, Jane was surprised by how much it hurt.

"What do you say?"

"Thank-you, Mistress," Jane yelped.

"Now, you're here to be my little sex toy, do you understand?'

"Yes."

"Spread your legs," said Ms. Dawson, now slapping the girl's pussy again. "What are you?" she demanded.

"Your sex toy?" said Jane uncertainly. Ms. Dawson slapped her tits again, and then pulled on them violently.

"Stick your tongue out," demanded Ms. Dawson. She kissed the now frightened girl. From the table she grabbed a rubber dildo that had flogging cords attached to the end. She began spanking the girl across the ass and the back. Every time Jane moved in pain, the collar dug deeply into the soft flesh under her chin and the ropes rubbed raw against her nipples. Ms. Dawson took out a bit gag and moved it between Jane's teeth tying it behind her head. Then, mercilessly, she flogged the girl, pausing briefly to contrast her beating with gentle rubbing. Getting down on her knees, Ms. Dawson licked the girl's asshole, but Jane did not relax, even her tongue seemed violent.

"Do you want me to let you come?" Ms. Dawson asked teasingly.

"Yes, Mistress."

"No!" she slapped her across the ass. We have more games to play."

Taking her down from the ceiling, she put a blindfold and kept the bit gag in. She tied her up so that her knees were drawn back over her tits and spread apart widely. She began to stimulate Jane's pussy and asshole with a large, vibrating dildo.

Meanwhile, Joanie, who also had to work, arrived at her first appointment of the day. Dressed in her usual shapeless grey smock, her only personal touches were the black knee socks and the very comfortable, but somewhat ironic, clunky shoes. Joanie wrestled the vacuum cleaner from her hatchback. She had been instructed not to knock, just to enter the house and start cleaning. This was a new client, so she didn't know what to expect, but she hoped the house wasn't a total disaster, since she wasn't really feeling like work. She was still feeling horny from last night and this morning.

No one seemed to be home. This was the way she liked it. Now, she could go about her business in private and get out of there without having to talk to anyone. As she set about vacuuming, she had the urge to put the handle against her pussy. She resisted for a while, but then, in the hallway, she let it brush against her, then she put it up under her skirt so that it was vibrating against her thin cotton panties. Unable to control herself any longer, she took off her panties and pushed the vacuum handle into her wet pussy. She put it in only a little, just inside her lips, and then moved against it, her free hand running down her ass crack and finding her asshole. Just then, a door opened, but, because the vacuum cleaner was still running, Joanie didn't hear it until it was too late. She was in a headlock before she even reacted.

"You little bitch," said a woman's voice, "This is not what I expected from you. Come with me, and don't struggle or I'll report you to your company."

Joanie had been cleaning Ms. Dawson's house and had stumbled into Ms. Dawson's lair and was about to be entangled in her web of nylon ropes and humiliation. Joanie's grey smock was forcibly removed, leaving her in her black knee socks and big shoes, her hands were tied together and then attached to a hook in the ceiling, the very same hook that Jane had recently been held by. Joanie saw a blindfolded woman lying exposed on the bed and she began to sweat. What was going on here?

Ms. Dawson said: "You have been a very bad girl. Now, I'm going to give you a spanking and if you want this spanking to stop, you must pee on this woman."

"What?"

"You heard me, bitch. I want you to pee on this woman." The spanking began. Joanie tried to concentrate. She had never peed on anyone before; she tried to will it to happen, but every time that whip came down across her ass, she lost focus. She lasted only ten strokes before she was crying.

"Okay, little girl: now because you couldn't pee, I'm going to drip hot wax onto this woman's tits and it's all your fault."

"No, I'm trying."

"Shut up."

Ms. Dawson went over to the helpless woman, her pussy red and bare, her asshole pulled open by the tight ropes forcing her legs back and open. Taking the maroon candle off the shelf, which had been burning all through the massage, she dripped it slowly over Jane's shin. As the hot wax rolled down her leg and dripped off the bottom of her shapely calf onto her body. Jane screamed, somewhat delightedly, forcing out the sound out around the bit gag, drooling down the side of her face as she did. Ms. Dawson then leisurely poured some wax into Jane's bellybutton where it pooled and caused her eyes to water and her whole body to spasm and strain against the ties that were binding her. The nylon ropes cut back into her as she struggled; they would certainly leave a mark. Jane was sweating profusely, while Joanie whimpered, naked, and strung up from the ceiling.

Turning back to her, Ms. Dawson asked, "You'd better piss on her right now. The next thing I'm going to do is pour this candle on her pussy."

"I can't. I can't," she moaned.

Ms. Dawson slapped her tits hard. "Do it, bitch." She grabbed Joanie's vacuum cleaner and began to apply some thick greasy lubricant. "This is going in your ass."

Moving it into position, she slowly lowered Joanie's asshole over the vacuum cleaner handle. The pain was sharp and seemed to fill her whole head, and then, just as suddenly, the pain started to subside. When Ms. Dawson started to spank her again, the force moved the vacuum cleaner in and out of her asshole and produced something next to pleasure.

Joanie's eyes were clouded with tears and sweat, but she could hear Jane's screams of agony as Ms. Dawson poured the candle wax over her inner thigh; it ran, slightly cooled, into her pussy and down slowly touching the pucker of her asshole.

Suddenly, Joanie felt the familiar feelings, she tried to block out everything and concentrate. She contorted her body and was finally able to let a stream go. It started slowly, running down her own leg, but as it developed, the hot stream began to splash Jane's face, getting into her nose and in around the bit gag, causing her to choke violently.

"Good girl," cooed Ms. Dawson.

Joanie felt relieved, and again became conscious of the vacuum cleaner, which seemed to have made its way deeper into her ass. Ms. Dawson took off her latex shorts and began strapping on a fantastically large dildo. She walked around with it for a minute or two, letting Joanie see it. She slowly walked around behind Jane's head and took out the bit gag. Jane licked her lips and was driven mad by her desire to wipe her face, to stop the drool from running down into her ear. Though she couldn't see it, she could feel the rubber cock as Ms. Dawson began to rub it against her forehead. Suddenly, without warning, she quickly moved over the woman's face and began to force it into her throat. Immediately, Jane was choking and salivating ferociously over the giant cock. Ms. Dawson told Joanie, as she struggled against the bonds that held her to the ceiling, and against the vacuum cleaner, which forced her onto her tiptoes whenever she needed relief from its deep penetration, that it would soon be her taking on the big rubber cock.

Several minutes later, the cock dripping with gobs of saliva, Ms. Dawson came over to Joanie, allowing the cock to rest wetly against her thigh and untied the poor girl from the ceiling. Joanie almost forgot about the vacuum cleaner and had to quickly return to an erect posture, dependent on Ms. Dawson to help her off the machine.

"Do not struggle, bitch," commanded Ms. Dawson as she attached a similar strap-on around Joanie's waist, pulling the strap tight in between her legs so that the leather parted her pussy lips and moved against them whenever she moved.

"Now," said Ms. Dawson, "We are going to make a bitch sandwich. I'm going to fuck you in the ass, and you will fuck my client in the pussy."

Joanie was directed into position against the much abused pussy; Ms. Dawson bent her over so that she supported herself by clutching the edges of the little table on which Jane lay tied. The two were face to face, Joanie's tits swung gently, nipples softly caressing nipples. When Ms. Dawson commanded her to, Joanie slowly and wetly began to lick Jane's face, tasting the strange erotic mixture of piss, sweat and saliva. Unconsciously, both women began to moan softly. Meanwhile, Ms. Dawson directed Joanie's strap-on into Jane's pussy and then spread the young girl's legs and re-lubricated her already loosened asshole.

The moaning picked up intensity as Joanie began to rock against Ms. Dawson's probing fingers, moving her rubber extension inside Jane's pussy. Then, without hesitation, Ms. Dawson thrust herself deeply into the younger woman's asshole, causing her to cry out sharply, to throw her head back and bite her lip. Soon the small table was rocking dangerously under the sweaty, slapping intensity of the so-called "bitch sandwich." Joanie struggled to support herself, again on her tip toes, her arm muscles straining against her own weight and the force with which Ms. Dawson was rhythmically thrusting into her asshole. The leather of the strap-on was rubbing against the inside of her pussy lips, chaffing her madly. She longed to rub herself, but both of her hands were occupied.

By this time, Jane was drained: her mouth was dry, her muscles ached from being bound in the same position for so long, and her skin felt raw against the ropes. She focused on the tight belly slapping hotly against hers, the soft breasts gently rubbing against hers, the low moan whispered in her ear. She longed to see again, she had been in darkness inside her blindfold for almost an hour. All of a sudden she was overwhelmed by a feeling close to panic, to claustrophobia, to outrage, to hopelessness, to the unbearable desire to be free. A moment later, this feeling localized, concentrating itself in her pussy, it caused an explosion of pleasure, and a relief of everything hostile. In response, Ms. Dawson slowed her hips and she and Joanie eased away; Jane lay there, limp, breathing heavily.

"You have served your purpose, young woman. If you want to come in my house, make an appointment. Otherwise, please get back to your vacuuming."

Joanie, suddenly feeling naked, dressed quickly and cast a final look over the room where the surreal events of the afternoon had taken place. Smiling wryly and looking quickly back at the floor, she took her vacuum cleaner and went back to work. She couldn't concentrate though and locked herself in the bathroom, lifted her skirt, spread her legs wide, supported herself with one hand against the vanity, and began to masturbate ferociously, pushing her fingers deeply, deeply into her pussy. At last, a whimper let out through her nose, revealed that it was finished.

In the room, Jane, now showered and dressed, feeling relieved, released and happy, decided to invite Ms. Dawson to a party she was having that evening.

CHAPTER FIVE

ONE

That evening, Jane and Tom were preparing for the party to celebrate the fact that they had purchased a new home. In a way, their step down in the real estate world may not have been something to celebrate, but Tom and Paige had never really needed much more than what they had come into the world with.

They had spent the afternoon cooking, and, as was often the case, it was hard for them to stay focused on any task. As they answered the door to their first guests, Anthony and Paige, Tom was once again wearing a semen stained polo shirt and Jane, was dressed in a yellow tank top and red shorts. She could feel the ice cream that Tom had melted in her asshole dripping down her leg and she was certain it was creating a small stain on the seat of her polyester shorts.

"Come in, come in," she said to Paige and Anthony. Paige was dressed in a flowing, flowery summer dress, her beautiful tanned cleavage caught everyone's eye, and her long legs were given their full run in the short dress. Anthony wore shorts and a Hawaiian shirt with the first few buttons unbuttoned. Although they had arrived early, hoping to resume the activities of the past day, their arrival was followed quickly by Doug who showed up in a brand new pair of white jeans. He said his hellos and then moved himself over to the cheese platter.

The bell rang and Doug was surprised to see his wife Joanie, who was dressed in a pair of leggings that came down just below her knee and a baggy tank top, which covered her ass partially, but exposed her breasts through the arm holes.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, trying not to sound anything but happy to see her.

"Jane and I go to yoga together," she said, understating the point. "What are you doing here?"

"Jane and Tom bought Mr. Ryan's house."

"So?"

"So, I was there when the sale was made," he said, understating the point.

"Okay. Well great! We've got the evening together."

The same sort of thing happened soon after, when Ms. Dawson arrived. Anthony and Paige couldn't believe it. Their mother was at the same party as them; and she was looking unbelievably sexy. Joanie also recognized her and felt repelled and completely intoxicated. Ms. Dawson, dressed a light green blouse, opened dramatically, and a short leather skirt over black nylons, completed by a gorgeous pair of high heels, was surprised in so many ways: to see Joanie, to see her son and daughter-in-law, to see one of the landscapers from the day before.

She only said, "Wow, and I thought I wouldn't know anyone. Williamsburg must be a small town."

Finally Mr. Ryan arrived wearing a pair of tight purple pants and a low cut purple tank top, leaving no doubt about what he hoped to recreate at this party.

"This is your boss?" asked Joanie in a whisper. Doug, unable to look away from the obvious bulge in the man's pants, told her yes, but that he had never seen him dressed like this.

Despite the initial awkwardness, the party began to go the way most dinner parties do. The men retreated into the den, while the women congregated in the kitchen.

"Well, boys," said Mr. Ryan, unzipping the purple pants and allowing his heavy cock to fall out, "I say we get back to where we were."

"Hey," said Doug, "my wife doesn't know." But even as he was protesting, Anthony had moved between Mr. Ryan's legs and was now taking the stiffening rod into his mouth. Soon, he was gagging and choking it back. Horrified, Doug saw that Tom had taken out his cock, and was slowly stroking it, perhaps thinking of the experiences of the past week, or perhaps he was not thinking of anything. Doug went to the door; he could hear the women giggling in the kitchen and so he decided it would be safe to get a few licks in on that glorious cock. Kneeling, he rubbed the dripping cock all over his face before plunging in down his throat and then sucking, tasting its juices, then pulling out, allowing it to rub against his face and into his hair as he took the balls into his mouth.