Line of Sight

I backed, looking over my shoulder, making contact with his head. It felt like the end of that reddish dildo from the video. I shivered.

"You afraid, bitch?"

"Yes, sir," I answered truthfully. I was petrified.

"I gonna fuck the shit out you, bitch. You think Man-O-War been at you tonight. I gonna make you walk like a cowgirl. You ready to get saddle sore?"

"Yes, sir," I agreed again. He roughly pulled me back against his head and I cried out and clamped my jaws and jammed shut my eyelids and bared my teeth and sucked in breath

"That hurts!" I whimpered.

"Course it hurts, bitch! I want it to hurt."

"You don't have to hurt me," I complained. "I'll do what you say."

"I don't want you to do what I say. I want you to do it to you."

So I did it to myself.

If Lex was hard to handle, John was impossible. It felt like a bus trying to fit through the door of a household garage. I whimpered and clenched every muscle as John stretched the mouth of my vagina until it felt two feet wide. I gasped, mouth and eyes popped wide, staring at the floor. Occasionally I bumped Lex with my head, but I didn't register that I should be dutifully sucking him as I mounted John. I was in too much pain to maintain the conversation. I seriously considered pulling off and giving this up. I couldn't understand how anyone could put this up his or her ass. My vagina was screaming at me. And then slowly, the agony eased and I could breath again.

"Oh, my God," I huffed. "That hurts."

John said nothing. Perhaps he couldn't, being in my cunt. Panting, repositioning myself pointlessly, I slowly began to rock back and forth on John's head. It didn't slide in and out, only moved my clenched muscles. He was jammed tight in my hole. "This really hurts," I repeated.

"Suck me to take your mind off it," Lex suggested in his deep bass voice.

I thought that an excellent idea.

With my hands planted, I ran my mouth alongside Lox's shaft and raised him, fitting him into my mouth. Being rubbery was the only reason he fit. He filled my mouth almost as tightly as John filled my vagina.

"This is ridiculous!' I said around the head. "I can't do this." How John understood me I don't know. He laughed--hard to do from inside a vagina, I imagine. Lex laughed into my mouth.

"It's not funny!" I complained. "My joints are about to pop." In fact, my joints felt like someone was hammering a nail into them, or more rightly, into my ears. And my mouth is really big. Just ask Ken.

I rocked forward and Lex slipped deeper into my mouth. I rocked back, and John edged half a millimeter forward. Not much progress here. I had never been plugged from both ends before, certainly not by two blacks. It was a night of firsts.

Conversationally, Lex asked: "So, you like black?"

"You're really big," I panted. "Are all blacks like you?"

Lex and John both laughed.

"What?" I muttered defensively. "I've never done a black guy before."

They both laughed again. Lex said: "We like white folk because their holes so small. A black girl be thrusting back on John like a 10-cent ho. White women we hurt. More fun that way."

"Black girls are bigger?" I asked.

They both laughed again. "Why you think we got such big cocks?"

As the minutes progressed, so did I. Amazingly, my vagina discovered it could stretch to fit even John. John certainly liked it. And Lex seemed to enjoy my mouth.

"You suck pretty good for a white girl, Michelle," he said, pronouncing it as you might a black girl's name; long E instead if I.

Gasping, I said Thank you, and kissed his head.

"Like when you kiss it like that," he said. "Shows the proper deference."

"Respect," John suggested from inside me.

"Reverence," Lex put forth.

"Worship," John said.

"Submissive, more like it," I muttered, drawing admonitions from them both. Lex put my mouth back to work.

It took a while, but even my mouth proved it could handle the chore. One slow push forward, I had Lex enter my throat, and for a time I just held there, battling my gag reflex, trying not to choke, letting my eyes water and my nose run. I've never been good at deep throat, yet here I was, a cock the size of my fist in my throat. Grunting, I eased him farther in, and moved my head whatever way would help. Lex seemed fairly amazed. Speechless, in fact. John was also. Not bad for a white girl.

I refused to give up, telling myself I would put Lex entirely down my throat and even though it never happened, I tried valiantly. Nearly choked myself to death, but I tried.

At 2:25 A.M., I abandoned a disappointed Lex and concentrated on pleasing John. Lex had taken his turn with me earlier, both vaginally and anally; I needed to concentrate on John. Closing my eyes, I sucked my lower lip between my teeth, breathed deeply and pushed and pulled myself up and down John's cock. He was so big, I was stretched so tight, even half an hour of John being in me hadn't changed that. It was still like trying to fuck a bus.

"Oh, my God," I moaned. I missed my nightie and regretted tearing it off. Letting John tear it off me, I mean. It was my favorite piece of lingerie and it practically cuddled my small breasts. Just seeing it in the mirror released a hormone rush that made me shiver. A blue one hung in my closet, but it wasn't the same. I missed my red nightie. I always felt sexier in something see-thru and red.

I became shameless again. I forced myself farther and farther and father back onto John's shaft. I assaulted my cervix mercilessly, making it seek a restraining order against me. I ignored the order, dragging my hair on the floor, my nipples, my ribs, my chin, my cheeks, getting the 8" I wanted. Sweat soaked my hair and ran in rivulets down my cheeks. My underarms were damp and I could smell myself now. I breathed with my mouth wide open. I humiliated myself in front of Lex, and I hadn't attempted the impossible yet.

My God, I though. it was 3:15 A.M. I had done this for 45 minutes now. My vagina felt like a pit under construction with blasting. Why, I kept asking myself, was I doing this to myself? And I knew what was coming next. I looked at Lex.

"I'm going to do it now."

Lex shook his head. "Bad idea."

"I have to try," I insisted. "I did it with you."

Lex pointed out the obvious difference in size. I reminded him of the gay guy on his knees, and the blonde girl with her uber-dildo.

"Remember what their assholes looked like when they took it out," he reminded me unnecessarily.

"I know," I muttered. "I'm really stupid to do this."

"You were stupid to do it with me."

Apologizing, I eased myself off John's shaft and went to the bathroom. I needed to pee like a racehorse but it came out like a 90 year old man with a prostate. I moaned as it dribbled into the bowl. I was being so stupid. Did I want to ruin myself, perform my own hysterectomy? It felt like I'd had already had one, without anesthesia.

"Are you coming out?" I pleaded.

It came out a drop at a time. I was becoming scared now. Finally, something relaxed and a pencil thin stream emptied me after a minute or two. I wiped myself, grossed out by the mess of KY and my own personal lubricant. I giggled, wiping my behind. Then I remembered that I needed it, gross or not I flushed the toilet and hobbled back to the kitchen.

"I'm ready now," I said. "Um, just a second, okay?" I semi-dashed into the bedroom and into the closet and slipped on my blue nightie. I smoothed it in place, enjoying the feel of soft nylon. It's touch made me shiver. I still missed my red one, but I had made that bed myself so I couldn't complain. I hurried back to John and Lex.

"You sure about this?" Lex asked.

"Shut up nigger!" John yelled at him. "The bitch—"

"Please don't call me that!" I cried. "My name is Michelle! And I don't like the N-word either. Please don't use that in front of me: it's insulting, as well as offensive. Two of my best friends are black." Actually, three were, but Rochelle came to mind only after I'd spoken. Rochelle was the only girl I'd ever kissed and meant it.

John glared at me one-eyed, unrepentant. Lex grinned. "Pay the girl some respect, bitch. She could always take you down and pack you away."

"Or shit-can you," I threatened.

John grumbled, but agreed not to call me bitch anymore, nor Lex the N-word. I felt much better about that. I really hate the N-word.

John invited me to my knees and I complied, flipping my nightie out of the way. I backed against him, wincing at the already painful contact. I assumed I had a hemorrhoid. A big one. They say the best remedy for hemorrhoids is to ass-fuck them away, so I had that covered. I rubbed myself up and down on his head, sighed, and apologized.

"Sorry. I'm not lubricated enough."

I applied copious amounts of KY to both John and myself, grinned sheepishly and backed against him again. I felt lubed enough to handle a telephone pole. It felt like a telephone pole behind me. I gently pressed back and moaned as my asshole started to spread. The moan wasn't entirely from pleasure. I got bigger, and bigger, and bigger and bigger. Finally I halted, looking over my shoulder and between my legs in disbelief. It felt like The Hulk was fisting me. I panted, hoping to ease the pain a little. It didn't work. "I can't do this," I whined.

"Sure you can. Just hold still until your asshole adjusts."

"Easy for you to say," I muttered angrily. "It's not your asshole." In fact, it didn't feel like my asshole either. How could something do this to me and not be in me all the way? It felt exactly like the red dildo had felt to the blond girl. I know, because I felt that way myself.

What if I ripped a muscle? What my rectum tore and I started to bleed inside? I thought this a distinct possibility. I put my forehead against the floor and panted, counted to 10, and then upwards to a hundred. Finally the pain started to ease. I exhaled, shook my head back and forth, watched my hair drag the floor. Was this even worth it? I craved sexual challenge, but how much challenge could my orifices take? What if my asshole stopped working and I had to wear diapers? I laughed, daunted by the possibility. What would Ken say to me? What would my mother?

I stretched up and read the microwave clock. It was twenty minute to four. I said to John and Lex: "I'm putting this into me, I'm gonna fuck myself on it for a little while, and then I'm going to bed."

I will be in bed no later than 4 o'clock, I told myself. Enjoy me while you can, boys.

How I did it, I don't know. I squirmed and I writhed, I panted and gasped, I moaned and I mewled and eventually, though shear obstinacy alone, I pushed myself back until the tip bottomed me out. I looked back, insanely rewarded, almost gloating. See there, I told my asshole and rectum, I knew you could do it. My asshole and rectum weren't talking to me.

I didn't become wanton. I became very heedful and restrained. I ass-fucked John at half a mile an hour, closed my eyes and opened my mouth and let my hair drag the floor; what I didn't do was make a fool of myself. At 3:55 A.M., I unplugged myself, crawled away and had the dining room table assist me to my feet. I gazed down at John and Lex with mixed emotions: satisfaction, disbelief, pride and self-loathing. I could barely stand up. I put my hand behind me and held my bottom. I'd fucked a telephone pole.

* * *

I wasn't taking them down, John especially. I limped into the kitchen and removed a can of Diet Coke and snapped open the lid with pitifully trembling fingers. My whole body trembled. I realized, with some consternation, how exhausted I was. I had been fucking myself since 10 o'clock last night. Oh my God, did I hurt.

I downed the can of soda in one long awkward series of gulps, and then opened another can. This one I drank only marginally slower. I opened a third, wanting one for my aching rear end. Oh, how it throbbed. Turning off the light, and the dining room light, I limped into the bedroom and went to my drawers for a pair of panties. They were blue and white and red striped, made of comfortable cotton, and decidedly modest as goes my underwear drawer. I somehow got them on and snugged into place and went back to the dining room table. I had forgotten Mike. How could I forget Mike? I was embarrassed, and ashamed. I also picked up one of the boxes of KY Personal Lubricant and took it with Mike and me into the bedroom.

My arms and legs were alarmingly noodley. Collapsing on the bed, I opened the box with Mike sitting comfortingly in my lap, removed the tube and made sure it hadn't been tampered with. I wanted nothing to do with jelly belonging to John and Lex. I lubed Mike completely, sat him upright on the nightstand and lay down and pulled down my panties. Within moments I was purring happily with Mike up my behind, the vibrator pulsing my vagina, and my arms relaxed at me sides. I smiled dreamily at the window, drifting toward sleep. And then the damned doorbell rang.

* * *

I jerked awake and bolt upright on my hands and knees. I looked at the clock, saw that it was 4:07 AM, and then stared at my bedroom door, open-mouthed.

Not again! Had the doorbell just rang? Had I imagined it? I was mostly asleep, or in something approximating it sexually, so it could have been a dream. I looked at my bedroom window, making sure the blinds were still closed and covered by the blanket—they were—and waited with choked breath to see if would ring again. It didn't.

Who was it, at 4:07 AM in the morning?

As if I didn't know.

But what if it was Ken?

Panic-stricken, I leaped off the bed, expelling both the dildo and the vibrator, which I snatched desperately off the floor and jammed under the mattress. I fumbled the tube of KY, bumbling it from one hand to the other as I listened for keys in the door—thank God I had the security chain on—caught it in mid-drop and jammed it under the mattress too. It made me nearly hysterical thinking about Lex and John mounted to the kitchen doorway. I hobbled bandy-legged into the hall and down to the kitchen door and pried Lex off the jamb. Still no keys in the door, still no second doorbell ring. I stood hunched over and panting, Lex in my left hand, the head of John in my right, ready to rip him off the wall. I slowly calmed, receded from hyperventilation, felt my heart slow.

It could not be Ken. I'd talked to him even as I lay in bed at 10 o'clock lubricating the 7" dildo. It could not be Ken. That left only one possibility.

Releasing John and placing Lex on the table, I tiptoed to the apartment door and peeked out. No one there. I looked as far down as I could through the peephole, but of course, saw nothing. There was a box out there though; I knew it. Releasing the deadbolt and turning the knob, I inched open the door for confirmation.

"What are you doing?" I demanded querulously. I listened as I had listened earlier, then eased the door closed and unfastened the chain. My hands trembled, my heart pitter-pattered in my chest, and I think I may have peed myself.

What was in the box? Only one way to know, I thought, so I opened the door, kicked the box inside and hurriedly shut the door again and locked it. Then I just stared at the box.

This was insane. My watcher had been watching me. He knew I was awake. He'd probably watched the apartment all night long, praying I'd open the blinds and perform for him. Which I had, but hadn't let him see. Now he'd brought over Box Number 2 and left it on my stoop. Out of anger? Frustration? What if it contained a bomb. Michelle go boom. The thought sent a shiver down my spine and broke me out the goose-pimples. I backed a step away.

"Don't be insane. He couldn't possibly think you'd open the window and dance for him tonight, stupid. See what's in the box." I stepped forward again; squat down (with some difficulty) and peeled back the packing tape. Inside were three new items. I looked at the balcony curtains in consternation.

"You must be joking."

The one item I understood. They were anal beads. A long tapering Christmas tree of plastic balls about 12" long. The two other items mystified me. I fingered one, and then the other, and then removed them from the box, jumping a little when they straightened out. Each was 2' long and basically a rubber sword. Long dildos with handles. And I mean long. I held up the narrower, lighter one and looked at it in astonishment.

"Is this what I think it is?" It couldn't be. It just couldn't. But of course, it was. I began to giggle.

"No way. No way am I going to use this." I looked at the balcony doors again and laughed. I began to shake with laughter.

He'd given me two dildos specifically designed to be put up the ass...and then worked into the colon. In fact, the one in my hand, measuring 24" along the shaft, and another 4" behind the guard, 28" in all, would almost certainly do the trick. The shaft was no larger around than a normal size cock, and smaller than any of my dildos. It could possibly work. The other one, forget it. It was large and convoluted and for show only. I laughed, imagining it protruding from me like a tail, being wagged. The image sent an erotic shiver down my spine. The fourth item in the box was an enema kit.

"Okay, now this is sick." I held up the box and read the pieces Included:

-Hanging Tab

-Hook

-Bottle

-Stopper

-Douche Pipe

-Enema Pipe

-Pipe Adapter

-Shut-Off Clamp

-Tubing

-Adapter Cap

It was just like the one I had in the closet.

"You motherfucker," I muttered uneasily. "How do you know me so well?" I looked at the balcony curtains again. I looked toward my bedroom again. "I can tell you this: I am never opening my blinds again."

I dropped the carton into the box, returned the two swords and the purple Christmas tree, added Lex and the jar of KY, and then dismounted John from the jam. I placed him rather reverentially into the box, and then dropped in the belt. I retrieved Mike from under the mattress and dropped him in too. The other box I cut into pieces with a steak knife, put them in the box also, and then carried the full box into the bedroom and hid it in the back of my closet. I had every intention of dropping the box into the dumpster tonight. I ritualistically brushed my hands and was done with it. I then went into the bathroom to wash my hands and then I returned to bed, and to Edward and my vibrator Jacob.

* * *

I awoke at 6:18 A.M. I was on my tummy, with Edward tucked tightly into my butt. Jacob I had abandoned before I went to sleep. Rigid, pointed vibrators are nothing to fall asleep with. I groaned and looked at the clock, and then at my bedroom door, and then at the safely cloaked window. Had I heard something? Probably just one of the neighbors moving around. Regardless, disgruntled and muttering, I climbed out of bed and crept to the front door, holding Edward in place with my hand. My panties rode up and down as I walked, slowly working themselves down beneath my butt cheeks. I let them. At the peephole I gazed out, saw no one, and cracked the door. No box, either. I sighed, closed and relocked the door, and tehn returned to the bedroom, detouring for a not so quick pee. My insides were still screwed up.

The sun was not quite up and the bedroom darker than usual because of the window treatment. I was not refreshed by the short catnap, but I was newly horny, and wanted Jacob back in me again. I laid down and slipped him under my panties and his cold metal point against my clitoris and turned him on. He drove me almost instantly crazy. I gasped and twisted onto my side, scrunching up, curling my toes and locking my teeth together. Sometimes I hit myself just right, and this time I did. I moaned loudly and with my left hand inched Edward in and out of my asshole. He felt twice his normal size. I ached inside like a toothache and didn't care. It occurred to me I should take something for it. I wouldn't until later. I was done getting off the bed and I eventually fell asleep.