Cuddled and Violated

Frank slid his entire hand into my pants. And then back up my chest. Then down my pants again. Each time, going only as far as he had before, right to the top of where I would have cut my pubes, had I bothered to shave. Surely he felt the hairs that shouldn't have been there. Was he getting aroused? I didn't feel his cock against me, so I hoped maybe he was really taking this in an asexual way.

But I was wrong. One of the times he went into my pants, I again responded by pressing my butt toward him, and I did feel his hardness. It scared me, that this strange man I had just met was erect, that his hand was roaming my chest and neck and belly and inside my pants, that my breasts were exposed if he wanted to look, or touch, or squeeze, or even taste with his mouth. I felt that mouth, the heat of his breath, against my neck and ear as he touched me. I felt his cock against my butt now, and as I pressed against him, he pressed against me, now in a unified motion.

What was I doing? How far would he go? How far would I let him go? Would I beg for him to stop? Would I beg for him to go farther? My brain was swimming now, all my hormones were raging, each time Frank pushed his hand into my pants, I hoped he would go that last two inches to my pussy. I hoped he would touch my wet lips and my swollen clit, and even slip a finger inside my hole, and press his cock against my rear, bite my ear. Oh I was being a slut!

I calmed a little, and in my mind, I checked if my back still hurt, and it didn't. I doubt he fixed anything, but all these sensations completely took my mind off of it. For the first time in two weeks I wasn't in pain, and the rest of my body was relaxing, was in a pleasure zone. He slowed his hand movements, and rested his palm flat on my belly again, just above my waistband.

I took a chance, to see where this was going to go. We were still chatting, and I guess this conversation kept me thinking that all this was innocent, like when you are at the hairdresser and you feel his penis against your arm for a second, it's nothing, just part of the operation, and it goes away. I put my hand over his, and I pushed it down toward my pussy. Over my clothing, but I pushed it down in a way that he could not mistake my intent. I wanted to put his hand right on my private parts, I wanted him to grab me by my vulva and squeeze my swollen organs.

He did not disappoint. It was clear now that this often went this way for him, that he was operating as normal, for him. For me, this was not normal. I hadn't been touched by any man other than my husband for twenty years, I hadn't been touched by my husband in three months, and I hadn't even touched myself in a long time. I wanted this stranger to finger me and caress my secret areas, the places that few ever touched.

Frank moved his hand back to my belly, then under my waistband, and deep into my pants. He pulled at the yogapants, letting air into my crotch, and I could feel the warm air of the comforter inside on my body. He slid that hand down down down, until I felt his fingers on my pubes, and then right into my slit. Frank slid a single finger between my lips, and over my clit, and then into my wetness. I could actually hear the noise of my wet lips being parted. I could only imagine how gooey I was now. And I was only getting wetter.

He didn't go inside, but he rubbed and fingered and stroked every part of my privates. I was getting so hot now, and even I was breaking the conversation just to be sure I took a breath. He was now rhythmically pushing his hips into my rear, and I definitely felt his penis now. He was wearing only a shirt and some gym shorts, so there was nothing but these yogapants and those gym shorts between us. A millimeter of material separating the faithful wife and mother in me from the slut deep inside me that wanted to come out to play.

While his fingers played, he whispered into my ear, asking me if I wanted to remove any of these clothes. This was the point where I could have said no, and let this go as a little play, and then go home, having gotten a great treatment I could remember. But of course, as with every step in this process, I didn't say no. I nodded, and let him manhandle my body. He positioned me and moved me, as he pulled my yogapants down. He looked at my face, never at my nude body. I liked this, it kept up the illusion that this was some kind of legitimate medical procedure. He removed his own shirt, and then he laid me down. I didn't know he had removed his shorts, but once we were laid down, I found out.

I felt his penis rest in between my cheeks. I froze again. A stranger, his cock, my butt. He was now a few millimeters away from making me an adultress. Would this man try to fuck me? He went right back to his cuddling, though. Despite his cock between my cheeks, it was the same as before. He would stroke my body, lightly touching, then applying pressure, then light again. Circles, lines, every motion brought more and more goosebumps to my skin, and sweat to my body, and juices to my pussy.

As Frank did this massaging motion, his cock moved up and down my crack. He never pointed the head at my holes, just let the shaft go up and down my ass. I felt the wetness of his tip, he was really getting lubed up. My pussy was already soaking, it wouldn't have taken much to get him inside. And his penis, well, I didn't see it of course, but I could tell it was a little longer than my husband's, but not as fat. It slid easily up and down my crack too, and I was getting off just from this motion. The last time my husband dry humped me I guess George Bush was still president.

He rubbed my pussy, his bare hand on my bare lips. He pushed his face into the space between my shoulder and my neck, and nibbled on my ear. Then I felt his hand move away from my crotch, and I felt like how a baby might feel having her bottle ripped away roughly. Then I felt what he was doing with that hand. He took his penis from my crack, and stroked the head along my privates. He moved it from my asshole to my soaking pussy hole, then up the lips along to where they met at my clit. My clit is larger than normal, not like those weird mini cock ones you see in fetisch porn, but it was big. He stopped right on it, rubbing the tip of his rod right on my nub. I was going to cum, and he wasn't stopping at all.

I was being a whore! I just kissed my husband an hour ago, I just fed my children breakfast, I was just listening to talk radio in my car. Now, I was nude under a comforter in a strange man's apartment, and he was rubbing his dick all over my dripping pussy. All that was left was for him to stick that thing inside, and my transformation would be complete. Would I let him? I totally should have put an end to this. I guess we do this sometimes, we justify pushing the lines farther back until we've gone so far we forget if it's longer to go back or to finish the journey. For me, finishing was all that was one my mind. Would this guy finish too? Would I let him cum on my pussy? I'm not too old to have babies, would I let this guy cum and possibly get me pregnant? Would I let him inside me? Would I let this man I just met fuck me from behind like this? Of course I wouldn't.

But I wasn't stopping him. I wasn't saying no. I wasn't even resisting in any way. I was using my free hand to squeeze my nipples like a slut. I was letting this man jerk my pussy off with his penis, I was letting him nibble at my ear and neck. I was letting him say some very vulgar things right into my ear. If I was a man, I would be shooting a load halfway across the room right now. I was cumming, and with each stroke he pushed that cock into my clitoris, I felt waves of heat and excitement over every inch of my body. I felt it in my skin, and inside, in my brain even.

And then it changed. As I came, I kept silent, feeling that the last step in the journey to being a slut was acknowledging it by vocalizing it. I clenched my mouth shut, I clenched my fingers over my nipple, I clenched my knees together. All happy that I had touched fire and not been killed. But it wasn't over. He did something that turned this story from something I surely could have told any of my friends to something I am sitting here wondering how did this happen to me.

He took his penis and slid it down my slit. I think at this point I would have let him inside me. Inside my pussy, where my babies came from, where my husband once in a while put his little dick, I would have let him in for sure. But he didn't stop at my hole. Well, not that hole. He rested the soaking wet head of his cock against my anus. I froze, again.

This stranger was touching my butthole with his cock. I felt the lube coming from his tip, he was slathering it on my tiny hole. I hadn't bothered to shave for this, I certainly hadn't scrubbed my asshole. This guy was going to poke at my ass, I thought, there's no way he was going to try going in there. In my hole life the only thing that ever went in there was a finger a few times when I got a little wild while masturbating. I never let any man put his penis in my rear. Maybe I took it for granted that there was no way he would be trying to go inside.

Frank kept nibbling at my ear, and he was telling me how erotic and sensual it was that I let myself release in that way, that I had orgasmed with him on the floor under this comforter. He whispered to me that he wanted to give me one more orgasm, and that he wanted to touch one more pressure center. I knew his intent now was to get inside my bowels. I could have resisted. I could have said no. I could have done anything, but I did nothing. I moaned a little. I really gave him all the encouragement he needed, I had just cum from him rubbing my clit with his cock, and now I moaned at him when he told me he was going to buttfuck me. What was I thinking?

I wasn't thinking at all. I was like a dirty animal now. I was soaking wet from crack to clit, my thighs were wet with my cum, my boobs were sporting rock hard nips, and this guy was biting my neck and ear like he was going to have lunch. And I actually pressed my rear against his cock. I might have done better resisting by specifically saying the words than what I had done. I pressed my rear against his cock. I felt the bulbous head of his penis opening my rear hole.

As I said, I had never been entered this way. No man had ever put his thing in my butt, I never even thought of it, no man had even asked or even tried. Maybe I gave off this "I don't do anal" vibe, all my life, but now, this man must have seen all green lights. As I pushed against him, he pushed too, his hand now reaching around to my front and gripping my clit between his thumb and forefinger. As he squeezed it, I nearly came again, having a mini orgasm in his hands.

Frank poked his intruder into my ass, finally opening the hole enough to slip it in. It did hurt, I won't pretend it didn't. My virgin rear was tight for sure, and despite his penis not being large, it still hurt. He opened me up, and as he did, he pressed his bare chest against my sore back muscles, and he gripped my clitoris in his fingers, and he nibbled me ear and neck, and he said all these vulgar descriptive things about my dirty butthole. I guess he was really ready, though, because his precum had lubed him up in a way that once the head was inside, he slipped all the way in.

This stranger was inside my hiney, all the way to his balls. I could feel his balls on my wet vulva, I could feel his bushy pubes against the crack of my butt. He was poking the inside walls of my anus, I felt feelings inside my body I had never felt before. A man I didn't know an hour ago was fucking me in my virgin asshole, and I was cumming.

I was really cumming. It was like no other orgasm I had before either. I was like dull, but long. He squeezed my clitoris like he was jerking me off, and he was in timed rhythm, so that he would stroke me as he fucked me, and all I wanted to do was finish this orgasm or push his penis out. It hurt. I said this already, but it hurt. Along with the pleasure, was the very real stretching of my insides. The pounding against my guts each time he got all the way inside. The way his cock turned my rectum inside out each time he pulled out. It hurt, but the waves of pleasure were alternating with that pain, and it was setting my entire brain on fire. I was edging this way for half an hour already, and even after that first orgasm, this one was just going on and on and on.

Maybe it was that slut inside trying to get out, but I never resisted. I let this stranger fuck me up the ass. He was biting my neck now, hard kind of, and rubbing my entire pussy with his hand, and he was pounding my butt. I was now drooling, my wide open mouth just gaping, maybe trying to say something, maybe trying to say stop, or maybe trying to beg him to go faster harder deeper. I don't know exactly what was happening now, except that my butt was being deflowered, and I was loving every second of it. The mix of regret, shame, and intense orgasm, it was shocking my brain and body into submission. I wanted him to go faster, to go harder, to go deeper. Each time he pounded me, I felt my butt being torn open.

On one particularly hard and deep push, he stopped. He bit my ear hard, enough that it drew blood. And I felt his sperm. I felt the heat of his load inside my bowels, I felt it against the flesh that was inside my body. I felt that cum in a place no cum had ever gone before. I felt so filthy, so dirty. I had let this man, this stranger, fuck me up my asshole, and I had orgasmed for ten minutes as he did it, and I let him shoot his load inside of me. I was, at the same time, a slut and a whore. I was crying now, not from shame or pain, but from the release.

I had let my inner whore out, and I loved it. I had cum longer and harder than I ever had, and I felt like he had coaxed my soul out from my body to let me look at it. He gripped my pussy with his whole hand now, and licked at my bleeding ear. He groaned, and then he told me so many sweet things that a husband might tell his loving wife after some special event like childbirth or something. I felt so loved, even as his deflating penis was still inside my dirtiest hole. I hadn't cleaned or anything, so surely he would pull out and there would be a mess, but I didn't care, I was released. I felt so relaxed, so free, so calm, despite having been fucked in my virgin hole, possibly without my consent.

And here I am now, in my car, at my office. The place isn't even open, it's Saturday, and I don't remember even driving here. It's the wrong direction from Frank's place to my home, but somehow my brain automatically drove here. I'm in this parking lot, no other cars, and I'm recounting to you what just happened to me. Frank offered me a shower, but I declined. He offered me a towel, but I declined. When I had come down from that high, I felt liberated, but also ashamed. A dichotomy that has me stumped as I sit here. Did I get raped? Did I give in to some slut inside me?

Even as I left, paid him, and thanked him profusely, I felt embarrassed in a small way. This happened in my town, it was possible that I would see Frank again, or someone I know might run into him, or even my husband may have met him before, or even my kids might have seen him before. I was released, relaxed, but still I had this thought that my whole life was different. As I left, he asked about my back, and I was bluntly honest, it felt as if the entire experience from the moment I injured it until then had disappeared, like nothing had happened. He smiled, and thanked me for the business, offering me his business card. Like I might want to get fucked in my butt again?

I sit here now, I wonder how do I go home? Frank's cum is sliding out of my butt right now, surely leaking through my yogapants and onto the car seat. My daughter would be home from college next week end, and would be sitting in this seat when she borrows my car. She would be sitting right here, where her slut mom farted out a load of cum from a stranger who had just buttfucked her. Of course she would never know, but I would. I'd go home, and I'd see my husband, and he would ask how the massage was. I had told him I was going to one of those richy rich massage spas, so of course he would have no idea that I'd been deflowered. He'd have no idea that another man's sperm was swimming around in the hole I shit out of.

I had to go home eventually, but here I was, sitting, recounting this story in my head. I'm sure my yogapants were wet, I'm sure even though they are black, anyone could see there was something happening there. My husband would ask. I had to think of how to get home without revealing to the world that I was a whore, a slut, an animal.

But you know, despite all of this, as I tell you this story, my hand is inside my yogapants. I'm touching my pussy, I'm edging myself to another orgasm. I can smell the sperm, I can smell my pussy juice, I can smell my butthole. I'm sure my hiney is wide open, maybe it would never close after having that penis violate its entrance. Would I ever call Frank again? Would I let him fuck me in my ass again? Would I let my husband do it?

I'm contemplating even climbing on top of him when I get home, and letting him inside my butt, as a treat he'll never forget. Today, I let a stranger bring me to orgasm and buttfuck me, and I let him cum inside me. Even though I should have said no.