Tonya.

Frustratingly, no matter how long Tonya spent, or how perfectly she loaded her buttocks into her underwear, pampering, and coaxing them, and admiring them in her bedroom mirror each morning; it would take nothing more, than for her to bend over just once, for every inch of available slack down there between her legs to be sucked up into her ass-crack and fish-gash; as if an invisible bully had just given her a giant wedgie.

"Hell! I could feel the elasticized leg bands whining, as they stretched beyond their endurance limit." Tonya related to an acquaintance, some years later in the records-room closet at work, where she held her ass cheek open with her hand, one foot raised up onto a file box, bending slightly forward and looking back over her shoulder, as the new receptionist, fingered her dirt-box hole, furiously and deep -- up to the knuckle - licking her perineum, wildly, until she came; whimpering in the dusty dimness of the files room. Tonya had had all of the girls at one time or another, down in the records room, it was the office secret.

When she got home, she would chuckle at the red skid marks in the bottom of her panties; and world rub herself off into oblivion, sniffing greedily at the delicate scent of lipstick from the new girls sumptuous mouth. Tonya loved the smell of foreign lipstick; it made her squirm with delight.

"Eventually, I felt wearing undies had become an exercise in futility for all the good they were doing?" reminisced Tonya. "

I got fed-up of continually digging into my slimy slit to pull the sticky panty-hammock out of my clout, so usually I just let it stay-put in there from morn to night, and many times I flushed red in the face out there in the public eye, as unexpected waves of orgasmic-bliss rocketed through my body, from doing nothing, other than simply walking; as my rock-hard clitoris, plucked the gusset rope like the thumb of a Bass player, doing his long awaited solo-piece, swimming amid the dimly-lit hovering blue-smoke-haze, of a swelteringly-hot basement jazz-club of the fifties; somewhere in Paris, no doubt..." confided Tonya in the new receptionist.

The new girl, pulled Tonya's sticky gusset out of her beaver lips, and cupped her vulva, gently in her hand. She felt a rock hard little shaft, with a hot pea-sized head, throbbing, at the top end of Tonya's gash. Tonya was now bent fully over. Her voluminous ass hovering like a huge harvest moon in the face of the new girl, who had by now taken up the subservient kneeling pose, behind, and between Tonya's open thighs, which Tonya loved so much. The young receptionist opened the hot, creamy labial wings, and heard their stickiness crackle in the sultry silence of the file room. A shudder quaked through Tonya, and she let out a breathy gasp. The receptionist, took the rigid clitoral shaft, firmly between her thumb and index finger just south of the bulging, pulsating pea-head, and as she started to masturbate it, back and forth, the full length of its tiny, one inch, rock-hard shaft, just way the boys do it to theirs, she simultaneously, ever so lightly, stroked the quivering pea-head of the clitoris, with the soft, love-cream-lubricated pad of her middle finger, in slow, gentle, circular caresses, and she said, in a deep, whispery voice,

"Is this what you found rubbing on your rolled-up gusset, as you walked to school, and came to orgasm in the streets, Tonya my love?"

Tonya groaned, and shook convulsively, and answered in barely intelligible sounds,

"...Oh—hhhh! God...! Oh---hh! MY Fucking GOD! Yes—ssss, Yes---ssssss, YES—SSSSS!"

Tonya stepped up onto an adjacent shelf with her other foot. Her legs were wide apart now. In one decisive move, she tore her panties off her ass, and threw them to the ground in tatters. She was fully bent over, staring through her open legs at the new girl tossing her girl-cockie off - furiously - as if she was a boy.

Tonya hadn't expected such expertise from such a young, sweet, innocent looking angel, and as the first gigantic, orgasmic wave hit her sensibilities, she instinctively threw her back up, arching it so violently, that the sound of her vertebrae popping, resembled popcorn exploding in hot sizzling butter. Tonya flung her head back onto her shoulders, and somehow, managed to totally revolve it a full 180 degree to where she was looking backwards, down her spine, over the fullness of her buttocks, down the crack of her ass to the top of the new girl's head. Tonya, could see the receptionist's little ponytail bobbing up and down as she lapped like a little kitten, at her warm love-cream which oozed out of her open love-hole.

A truly epic orgasm started to build inside Tonya's vulva, and she became like a wild animal, gnashing, and spitting, and hissing at the air, like a cornered bobcat. Then it hit! Tonya's buttocks seemed to open wide, under their own steam. Her eyes began to bulge in their sockets. Her head was rolling around on her twisted neck like Medusa Herself. Then, as the full weight of the orgasm's endorphin rush blasted into her brain, she froze! There was silence, Tonya had stopped breathing even, but her heart was thundering inside her chest like a steam train, pumping blood, into her brain, into her nipples, into her vulva and clitoral head, like the racing pistons of "The Flying Scotsman" as it thundered down the tracks, setting the world locomotive speed-record from Glasgow to London all those years ago. The only difference - Tonya had no breaks this time.

The orgasm hit her like a ton of bricks! Every muscle in her body contorted. Her six inch red stiletto heels broke through the lid of the boxes that she precariously was perched upon, anchoring her there solidly. The claws of her right hand seemed to bend into talons, and as she quaked, her hypothalamus being ripped to shreds inside her reptilian brain by a massive overdose of love-serum, she reached down her back, through her parted buttocks, down to the new girls head, and sunk her talons deep into her scalp.

The receptionist had such a fright, that she farted out loud, and pissed her panties on the spot.

Tonya was experiencing the greatest, most powerful orgasm of her life, and it had turned her into a crazed beast! Her dirt-box hole opened of its own accord. Her love-tunnel hole was driveling thick, hot, grayish-white, pungent love-cream in a steady stream over the receptionist's face and hair and clothes. Tonya's urethra was opening and closing erratically in tune with her orgasmic waves, drenching the receptionist - who knelt, stunned between Tonya's open legs, cowering under her dominating gigantic ass - with boiling pee-pee.

The full force of the orgasm took Tonya to the cleaners. Her bung-hole opened a full three inches in diameter, and her cramping abdominal muscles were slowly pushing out an enormous chocolate log from within the dark, mysterious cave of her fuming fudge-hole. Tonya had lost control of her body, as her brain writhed in utter, hedonistic, carnal pleasure, and unadulterated ecstasy; dancing happily in a sensual world of its own -- totally dissociated from her body.

Steam started to rise up from between her legs, and from the chocolate log now protruding a good five inches out of her splitting bung-hole. The log had a diameter greater than the 3 inches her hole had opened up to, and it was stretching the capability of Tonya's ring to the max!

Tonya reveled in her scents drifting up from her body, from the creamy sweet honey-cinnamon taffy fragrance of her clout, to the acrid, citrus, perfume of her - and the receptionist's - golden rains; to the savory, earthy aroma of wet clay, from the Christmas log she was in the process of giving birth to.

Another powerful orgasm flooded Tonya's brain-love-organ with a hot shot of dopamine: It was too much for her.

The receptionist was confused and shocked, but still masturbating Tonya's clitoral shaft, and trembling pea-head like there was no tomorrow. Outside of all conscious thought, Tonya pulled the new girl's head up and rammed the 5 inch tapered end of her chocolate log through her lips and into her mouth.

Once the log was in, the receptionist instinctively grabbed it with her lips and teeth -- as she would have done if it was her boyfriend's stiff meat-pole, and Tonya forced her sweet angel face in and out rapidly, fucking her ass with her chocolate-log dildo -- organic style.

Tonya rapidly came to an intense anal orgasm, and the overdose of endorphin and dopamine generated from 'coming' in her ass, caused her to throw-up down her back, over her buttocks, and into the receptionist's comatose face, who had just fainted from the stress.

Now that the receptionist had stopped wanking Tonya's girl-cockie, Tonya took a deep breath, sucked her massive chocolate log back up into her dirt-box, and let the new girl slump limply to the floor, as Tonya retracted the claws out of her scalp.

There was a bit of a mess in the records room that day. Tonya revived the receptionist, by laying her flat on her back, and giving her artificial respiration, the 69 style. The young new girl was very wet and creamy in her panties, and she tasted sweet like vanilla ice cream, only hotter. Tonya's vulva almost engulfed the new girl's entire face, and she had to careful to let her breath every few seconds, as she worked-off the final few orgasms left in her clout. Tonya soaked the new girls face and hair with her baby-hole cream.

When the new girl recovered, they smiled to each other, and held hands, and hugged and kissed, and giggled, at how naughty they had been.

Tonya gave the new girl the rest of the day off with pay, and they both sneaked out down the fire escape together without being caught. They had the perfume of sex about them.

Tonya drove the receptionist back to her place, and they showered together, and had something to eat, and they washed their clothes; and they hugged and cuddled, and ate chocolate soft centers in each other's arms as they watched movies together; and Tonya fucked the new girl, in every one of her holes with her largest strap-on dildo, until midnight.

Tonya called a taxi to take the receptionist home, and had to carry the little angel down four flights of stairs, on her back, and lift her into the taxi. The little cherub was exhausted, and her sweet little beaver, and pong-pong hole was sore from the strap-on fucking she got from Tonya. Tonya tipped the driver in advance, and directed him to carry the new girl up to her apartment once he drove her there. Tonya asked the cab driver, if he had more than one condom on him. He nodded, yes, and Tonya reminded him, that if he fucked the receptionist in the ass first, then he would need to change his condom before doing her in her beaver, but that if he fucked her in her clout first, then he could leave the same condom on to do her ass with. Tonya asked if he understood. They both smiled and nodded.

Tonya was hanging into the cab through the rear window, and deep French kissing the receptionist for over a minute. They both had their tits out; And Tonya had her leg up over the roof of the cab exposing her huge wet vulva and pooh-pooh hole. The receptionist had one leg out the window, and the other over the cabdriver's shoulder. The receptionist was fingering Tonya's dirt-box with three fingers rapidly, and she was fisting her crack up to the wrist with the other. Tonya had her entire hand inside the receptionist's fudge hole, and was fingering her beaver hole and flicking her pink little stiff clitoris madly. Tonya and the receptionist started to come, between them; they rocked the cab so much that the two passenger-side wheels actually left the ground more than once! They came one more time, noisily. The cab was filled with their perfumes. Tonya hit the cab driver in the back of the neck and in his right ear with two squirts from her cream muffing as she 'came', and the receptionist hit the roof of the cab and the windscreen with her squirts.

The cab driver's teeth were hanging out to dry, and his head was bobbing back and forth stiffly. Tonya looked over the top of the seat and he was beating his meat-pole, and polishing the bishop's helmet like a crazed monkey. Tonya's hand was full of the receptionist's fish-hole sauce, and she had a fair bit of pong-pong mud on the other from the new girl's stink-cave-hole.

Tonya held her fingers under the cab driver's nose, and he started to bark, and howl like a dirty dog, then shot after shot, after steaming shot of thick, white, tube-steak tapioca blasted skyward out of his shiny, purple, rock-hard shaft: His purple-magenta helmet throbbed as his 'come' hissed out of its little eyelet. He shuddered and quaked around in his seat, as gob after gob of hot semen hit the inside roof of his cab, and sprayed over the dash board, splattered over the windscreen: Everywhere!

I thought, "This guy hasn't busted a nut for some time...!" The amount of come in his cock...!

So I opened the front passenger door, dove in and rammed his throbbing rod through my lips, into my mouth and down my throat. He screamed and yelled, and cried even, as I sucked every last drop of come out of his cock and balls! When I got off him, he collapsed across the front seat, drooling and talking gibberish to himself. I Turned off the ignition, closed the front passenger-side door, and pulled the receptionists out from the back seat. She had been rubbing her clitoris watching me suck the come out of the cab driver's rod. We waited for another taxi to come along.

"This cab driver is done for the night." I silently conjectured.

As we waited at curb-side, we kissed deep. I had saved the cab driver's come in my mouth, and we passed it back and forth, squirting the thick creamy fluid through our lips, into each other's mouths, then rolling our tongues around inside each other's head, feeling the silky smooth goo, lubricate our tongues, as they wrestled and writhed around, and caressed one another. We fondled each other's breasts, and tweaked, each other's nipples, and with the other hand, did our holes, front and back -- lingering over the stiff little clitoris, to root under the nun's hood, looking for the tasty stuff, scooping it out, and delighting in its aromatic taste.

Finally, a taxi pulled up, and we split the cab driver's 'come', as best we could, between us, and giggled as we gulped it down into our hungry tummies, together; sucking our rooting fingers, of the other for taste.

We burped at the exact same time after swallowing, and almost fell over laughing. There was a last hug and kiss before I ushered the new girl into the back of the taxi. With a nod, the cab driver whisked her away into the night, and my heart went with her.

I stood there for a moment, waving into the darkness, of where the taxi had been just moments earlier. I slowly dropped my hand, and turned for the Town-House front door, feeling rather let down, and lonely, I slowly walked toward home. I needed to take a shit -- and bad!

A moment later, I was jolted out of my fugue, by a loud snort! It was the first cab driver. I turned, and neared the open passenger-side cab window. He was still inside, snoring away.

I noticed a wedding band on his left ring finger, but I didn't remember smelling foreign pussy off his balls or meat-pole as I sucked him earlier. I concluded that the cab driver and his wife weren't getting along.

It was more than just a spate -- more than just a storm-in-a-teacup: This wasn't just a simple matter of his wife withholding sex, to get that new couch, or punishing him for looking at other women's asses at the mall! No. That sort of vindictive attack, is short lived, and lasts, just a few days: a maximum of ten!

Ten days of sex starvation inflicted on the husband by the wife, is generally, if not always, something, moderately serious, but not devastating.

Ten days in the - marital, 'sex-withholding, dog-house' - is punishment for crimes which exceed simple infractions like the husband getting caught beating-the-meat on the pan to the Hustler center-spread, or spying on your neighbor's wife with that telescope he demanded for Christmas, of which he insisted he needed for his astronomical hobbies, or getting caught on your bed, shooting his load over your mother's photo-portrait, wearing your panties and bra, stuffed with socks, and your favorite mini-skirt, whilst sniffing your 18 year old daughter's panties that are pulled over his head, and ramming your favorite vibrating dildo all the way up his ass-hole. OoOoOoOW! That would get at least 7 days in the sex-starvation cell, but, no more than 7 days! -- Mainly because the wife wants, and needs, her quota of fucking, too.

No! If a husband is sentenced to ten days or more by the wife, within the unspoken, unregulated, 'sex withholding game stipulations of marriage', it is usually for being caught in the sack, fucking the wife's sister, or daughter, or mother -- or conversely, hubby can get a serious wifely judgment, brought down around his ears, by being caught balls deep up her father's dirt-box, or vice versa. Or if the wife tastes semen off her husband's lips, every time his private-school dorm-mate comes to visit: Wives hate their husbands being fucked in the ass, unless they are doing it with their strap-on's, and worse, the wife is not willing to put up with her husband fucking his pal up the kazoo, when she is going to be deep-thoating his pole hours later. No! The wife isn't going to like eating her hubbie's best pal's pong-pong mud, from under his helmet: If she's going to suck rosebud, at all; why she has her girlfriends for that. Well—ll, when women, do it, with women; why, it's -- different - that's all...! It's not the same thing as men on men: All women love, other women -- along with others -- sometimes -- it seems.

Women put up with many things during marriage, most of which is arguably, men? 'Woman', Herself -- as an entity - may enter into -- "The Vow" -- prompted by mere pecks, rather than handfuls of reasons; most common of which, gain access to sperm - but mostly, it is the acquisition and inroad into the potential earning power and fictitious material riches written, or not, into the clause -- unspoken, of course, the clause, being akin to Santa, that is...?

Women: in general, I mean; do it with their husbands simply as a...service, and some - as a job!

Not many, and those few in the end who do - do it for one reason and one reason only - for pleasure. Well, we all have our girlfriends for that -- now do us not...? And secondly, all women already know, that they have all the rest of womankind to suck, and lick and pussy-fuck anytime they want, but who's going to cut the grass after, or fix the plumbing...or get up at 5am to go to work for money?

"No woman I know!" thought Tonya.

Why, all hubby needs is a little piece of tail twice a week, and throw in a once-monthly fudge-packing session -- if he's been good, that is - and he's happy. The rest of the time, we women will be fucking and sucking, and licking and dripping with our girlfriends 5 days out of the week and over the marital bed too: (That's why the pillows smell so nice), they've been under my ass, as my girlfriends gang fuck me with their strappys, all day long; as I suck on coffee-cream chocolates, and watch Ophra, and plan what I'll make for dinner that night. In this way, marriage is a fair trade-off.

Tonya reached through the open passenger-side taxi window to shake the snoring cab driver awake, but he was out for count. His cock was still hanging out of his zipper, shriveled, and flaccid now, with treacle drooling out of his cock-hole.

Tonya knew he was in super trouble with his wife for some reason. She hadn't picked-up beaver scent from his rod. Or ball sack when she blew him, nor did she detect mud-ring of dorm-pal either, and her sniff, ranges out to at least 18 days.