Caroline's Scrapbook

"Is that a threat woman? I'm a beast, remember? And a pervert. I'll take what I want, and I want cunt!" Mark growled deep in his throat and leapt to his feet. Caroline shrieked in alarm and bolted, hand still cupped between her thighs to prevent Marks cum leaking out. Mark dashed after her and I heard the thunder of feet going upstairs, followed by more squealing, giggling and calling of names.

Mark obviously wasn't as rapacious as he'd pretended, for a few seconds later the giggling stopped and I heard the sound of a shower starting up. I was left, happy and naked, drinking a bottle of beer in a room that reeked of sex.

***

"Cor! It smells like a brothel in here."

"How do you know what a brothel smells like?"

"Cheeky!" Caroline had returned, fresh and clean, naked and carrying a ring binder. "Ready for Round Two?"

"Whenever you are." She gestured for me to part my legs and then knelt between them, placing the ring binder on the floor by my chair. Taking my penis in one hand and my balls in the other, she started wanking me slowly. I soon rose beneath her ministrations and she examined my equipment closely, hefting my testicles and slipping the foreskin backwards and forwards.

"God, I sometimes wish that I had a cock."

"I sometimes wish that I had tits."

"You do, why?"

"I'd never get out of bed. I'd just lie there all day and play with them." Caroline chuckled at that, then stuck out her tongue and swirled the tip around my glans.

"Just once, I'd like to pound a cock into someone's cunt. I'd like to shoot stuff deep inside a woman, or on her face, just to feel what it's like for a man. I'd also like a blowjob. And I'd like to wank off a balcony as well; or the Eiffel Tower."

"You don't want much do you?"

"Its not fair. We ought to be able to swap sex without having operations, just to see what it's like occasionally. What is it like, when you come I mean?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. What's it like for you? Women seem to have much better orgasms. Ours seem fairly short, and not particularly intense most of the time. I suppose it depends who you're with as well. The best one I've ever had was the one you just gave me."

"It was?" Caroline looked immensely proud of herself at that. "You did cum a lot. You've got a nice cock. You ought to shave your bollocks though. It's a lot better without all that hair in the way." She grabbed a tuft of hair and gave it a tug.

"Ouch."

"Sorry." She leant forward and enveloped the head of my dick in one smooth slurp. Her mouth was hot and wet and the feel of her tongue coating my glans in saliva was indescribably good. The sides of her breasts rested against the insides of my thighs, warm, soft and heavy. It doesn't get much better than this, I thought, as she lightly scratched my ball sack with her fingernails. Caroline drew back and detached herself from my cock with a parting kiss for the tip. She stood up, breasts bouncing, poetry in motion. "Get up. Lets get this blanket under you."

She hauled me to my feet and turned to reach for the blanket off the coffee table. "Put this on the chair, I'll get you a condom." I folded the blanket and placed it over the upholstery, careful to position the cum stain and damp patch on the inside where neither the chair nor myself would touch it. I sat down again as Caroline returned with the bowl of condoms. Kneeling once more, she placed the bowl on the floor and extracted a foil wrapper from it. "Strawberry flavour," she pronounced, after examining it closely. She tore the foil and pulled out the greasy latex sheathe. Giving my dick a couple of brisk strokes to make sure it was still hard, she retracted my foreskin, placed the condom on the tip and then rolled it down my shaft with her thumb and forefinger in a series of jerks. Standing up once more she turned around and, with my hands on her hips to guide her, lowered herself onto my erection.

She was hot and tight and despite the condom, felt wonderful. She wriggled a bit, getting herself comfortable, her hands on my knees to give support as she leaned forwards. I wasn't able to move in my position, but I had access to her entire rear end and could watch her vaginal opening and puckered arsehole as she manoeuvred on my shaft. She pushed herself upright in my lap and just sat for a moment, savouring the sensation of fullness no doubt. Then she half turned and groped over the side of the chair. She found what she was looking for and returned to her upright position, the ring binder held in both hands. "Shift back a bit," she ordered. I placed both hands on the armrests and pushed. Lifting both our weights I was able to shove and shuffle until I rested against the back of the chair; our feet, no longer able to reach the floor, stuck out straight in front. She mewled; obviously enjoying the sensations engendered by our position change, and leant her head back against my shoulder.

Holding the binder up so I could see it, Caroline said, "This is my 'Slutbook'. I thought you might be interested; some of your work's going in here." I rested my chin on her shoulder, wrapped my arms around her waist, and looked at the folder. It was a plain black ring binder, common in offices worldwide. The uncommon thing about this particular one was the proliferation of glittery stars on the cover, and the large fluorescent letters proudly proclaiming it to be 'Caroline's Scrapbook - The Diary of a Slut'. I wondered what work of mine would be entered into the book, and then I remembered the photographs Mark had taken of Caroline's cum covered face. I was beyond the point of thinking that Mark and Caroline's sex life was pretty strange.

My cock was wilting due to the absence of stimulating friction so I tried flexing it a couple of times to keep it interested. Caroline sensed my predicament and started massaging my shaft with her internal muscles. My prick was squeezed along its entire length by her soft sheathe. I inhaled sharply at the sudden pressure she exerted on my turgid member, my lungs filling with the scent of freshly washed woman. "I'll turn the pages," she told me, "You play with my tits." Ever one to be obliging, I reached up and hefted a firm, fleshy orb in either hand.

They were glorious; warm, silky smooth skin clad, firm but infinitely malleable, fistfuls of fun. I clutched tight and squeezed, my fingertips sinking deep into the soft tissue whilst her nipples, solid little rubbery nubbins, pressed out between my fingers. I weighed them, kneaded them, and patted them, measuring the bounce as her flesh undulated. I pinched and flicked and pulled at her nipples, my reinvigorated cock becoming ever more rampant within the tight confines of Caroline's quim.

"Having fun?"

"Oh, yes."

I held onto those twin orbs, her body moulded against my own from head to foot, as she opened her scrapbook. On the first page was a single, large photograph of Caroline in her wedding dress. She was holding a tulip shaped glass of champagne in both hands and looking very happy. Underneath, in large, bold typescript, were the words, "ENJOY! (UNLESS YOU'RE MUM OR DAD, IN WHICH CASE GO NO FURTHER.)" I sniggered, rolling her nipples between forefinger and thumb, "And what if they do find it?"

"They shouldn't. If anything happens to us my sister knows where everything to get rid of is hidden."

"Your sister?"

"Yes, that's her," she said, turning the page. The next photograph was again one of Caroline in her wedding dress. This time, however, her face was liberally splattered with sperm. Her eyes were closed and her cheeks were hollowed out as she sucked on a cock. Another girl, obviously Caroline's twin, was nibbling her ear. "It wasn't taken on our wedding day. We kept the dress and went to a party in London when we got back from our honeymoon."

"What's her name?" I had a sudden vision of being the meat in a twin sister sandwich and involuntarily rocked my hips, straining to bury myself deeper in her depths.

"Ooh! Sarah. And I bet I know what you're thinking." I rubbed a fingertip around each of her areola as she turned the page again to reveal a snapshot of a Virgin Atlantic passenger plane, taken through an airport terminal window. "We joined the mile-high club on that plane." On the opposite leaf, beneath a photo of the outside of the Ritz, was a cotton napkin folded into a plastic Ziploc bag. The Ritz monogram was clearly evident, as was a stain that looked suspiciously like semen. "Mark took me for High Tea there as a treat. I made him wank off into the napkin under the table." I kissed my way up the side of her neck and nibbled her ear, much as her sister had done in the earlier photograph, as she turned the next leaf.

Caroline didn't have time to explain why a used teabag had been cellotaped to the page as Mark returned at that moment. He was still nude and started laughing when he saw us. Caroline stuck her tongue out at him and spread her legs an obscenely wide distance apart over each arm of the chair, giving him a grandstand view of my cock nestled balls-deep inside his wife's clinging cunt. As Mark approached I saw that he was holding some photographs in his right hand. Caroline closed her scrapbook and dropped it down by the side of the chair again, then reached up for the pictures Mark proffered.

He stooped down and began to run his fingers through Caroline's pubic hair as she examined the photographs. They were in order, the first being the picture Mark had taken as Caroline still held my dick. Her face and breasts were soaked in my semen; it looked like she'd been glazed in half-melted icing sugar. I felt a frisson of pride at this photographic proof of my virility and once again flexed my penis within Caroline's quim. She mewled in pleasure as she sorted through the snapshots, Mark making circling motions with his fingers on her clit whilst she decided which one to put in her scrapbook. The grip of her vaginal walls on my knob increased in force as her body reacted to the stimulus Mark was providing and as I continued to lavish attention on her breasts.

"This one," she said, choosing the photo where she'd turned to face the camera with my cum puddled in her eye sockets. She dropped the photographs to the floor and dropped her head back onto my shoulder, closing her eyes. Caroline began wriggling in agitation as Mark and I continued to pleasure her. She moved her hands and began to stroke the inside of her thighs and I placed long, lingering kisses on her neck. Her breathing quickened and she took deeper breaths, pushing her tits firmly into my enthusiastically fondling hands. Her body slid sinuously over mine as her flesh flushed pink and her skin released a patina of slippery sweat. Mark leaned further down and tongued and kissed Caroline's navel as his fingers continued to work busily around her clitoris.

Caroline began to gasp and shiver, shaking her head from side to side. Her buttocks clenched and her pelvic muscles gripped me tighter still as she neared her release. I twitched my cock inside her and her hands left her thighs to catch hold of my own hands. Her orgasm overtook her and she arched her back, driving her weight down on my impaling prick and crushing my hands to her breasts. She shuddered, her vagina clenching rhythmically around my shaft, my balls suddenly dampened by released moisture. Her fingernails scored indentations into the back of my hands as she clutched at them. She cried out in exultation with each release of breath as I pummelled her tits and Mark strummed her clitoris. Slowly, she came down from her high and Mark eased off on her sensitive nodule of nerve endings. Her hands dropped to her sides and she went limp, relaxing completely with a long, languorous sigh.

I shifted my hands from her breasts to her waist and she just lay stretched out on me, basking in her afterglow. Mark looked at her lovingly for a while then growled, "Well, this won't do. It won't do at all." He reached out, gripped Caroline beneath her armpits and lifted her bodily off my cock and into the air. She squealed and he dropped her onto the coffee table. "Assume the position, wench. Doggy style I think."

"Beast. Pervert!" Caroline accused. Mark responded with a growl and, demonstrating commendable alacrity, Caroline flopped over onto hands and knees, facing away from me. She tossed her head, hair flailing, and looked over her shoulder at me as I gazed in appreciation at her gaping pink slit.

"Well, don't just sit there. Give it to me." Her languor of a few seconds ago had vanished. Once again she was the eager nymph, ready and willing to fuck with enthusiasm. Mark strode around to her head and I stood up, approaching her from behind. She was too far forwards so I stood with my shins against the table edge, gripped her by the hips, and pulled her back until my cock was snuggled upright between her arse cheeks. Caroline's head began to bob slowly on a level with Mark's crotch and I heard a slurp from the far end of the table. Mark was standing, legs apart, hands on hips, a beatific expression playing across his features.

Taking half a step back, I gripped my dick below the head, pressed it against Caroline's flesh and then traced a path downwards with it. Slowly, I slid it across her puckered anus, pausing briefly as Caroline emitted a muffled "Hmmph." I pushed further down and the head of my cock lodged at the entrance to her cunt. I stayed like that for a moment, admiring the sight as I looked down my torso to where my flesh was joined to hers. Then, grasping her hips firmly once more, I eased forwards into the soft tightness of her opening passage.

I stepped up to the table again, burying my sheathed cock to the hilt. Her tunnel, slick with secretions, resisted my penetration with a firm, but yielding pressure until I was buried deep inside her. I savoured the sensation, deadened though it undoubtedly was by the condom, and then withdrew slowly with a rearward rocking of my pelvis. I pushed in again, once more feeling her channel widen to accept my intrusion. I rocked back and again shoved home, slightly faster, revelling as much in the sight as in the sensation.

Mark had shifted his hands to Caroline's head, dictating the pace of the fellatio as he thrust his hips repeatedly into her face. I began to drive into Caroline at the same speed, the slurping sounds from her mouth being matched by an obscene squelching from her pussy. When Mark thrust forward, I withdrew, and when he pulled back I plunged in as we took her in tandem. Caroline reached up a hand and pushed Mark away for just long enough to say, "Harder! Fuck harder." Then she returned to all fours and Mark pushed his way back into her throat.

I picked up the pace, as requested, my shaft a spear of flesh I repeatedly thrust into her grasping fissure. My pelvis slapped into her buttocks with each push, producing a shockwave in her flesh that rippled forward with every blow. Each time I pushed her face into Marks groin with the vigour of my thrusting, she pressed back against me, driving her engorged pussy lips into contact with my scrotum. My balls and the front of my thighs became wet with her moisture as she seeped pussy juice around my shaft. The squelching and smacking sounds became louder; even her tits joined in the cacophony of pleasure as they swung and slapped together beneath her.

I began panting for breath, unused to such exertion, my cock a blur of motion as I hammered into her. The sweat was running down me, oozing out of all of us, my hands slipping from their grip on Caroline's hips. Mark came with a grunt, his face red with effort. Caroline gagged and gasped as she swallowed his semen and then pulled back to suck oxygen into her lungs. Mark sank onto the floor and slumped against the wall beneath the window. Caroline dropped to her elbows and rested her head on a forearm, murmuring incoherent words of encouragement. Her other hand slid between her thighs and began to frig her clitoris, her fingernails scratching the underside of my shaft as I powered into her.

Without Mark to counter my thrusts at the other end of the table, it began to inch slowly towards the window, jerkily propelled by the driving force of my fucking. Caroline's murmuring became a long, drawn out moan, rising in pitch as the assault on her senses pushed her towards another climax. My heart was pounding and I began to feel light-headed, my knees on the point of giving way. My strokes became shorter and shorter as the sensation escalated to an almost unbearable plane. Eyes closed, the entirety of my being became focused on the feeling in my swollen glans.

I could sense the impending inevitability of my climax and plunged into the tight confines of her sopping tunnel for a final time. My thighs trembled with tension, my balls rose and contracted, my buttocks convulsed and I came, shooting my seed into the teat of the durex. The base of my cock throbbed with each pulse of sperm I sent into the rubber. My hands on her hips slid and slipped up her sweaty torso and I collapsed and lay atop her, driving her down flat onto the table, gulping for air. Caroline moaned, her vaginal walls squeezing rhythmically along my length as I shot my load, and she achieved her own release, squealing and trembling beneath me. And then it was over, the sensations fading, my cock shrinking and sliding out of her, the sweat on our bodies suddenly clammy.

I heaved myself off Caroline's body and fell back into my chair, the condom dangling from my dick like a deflated pink balloon. Caroline remained in position and I watched as her gaping vaginal opening began to slowly contract. "Fucking A," she mumbled.

"Fucking A," sighed Mark.

"Too fucking A," I felt compelled to agree.