Joanie of Zurich

I was really mad at Philip for having come on to my sister while all I did was go to the bathroom. So I said, "He's only one of my two lovers, Sis. Mike too is somewhere in Zurich. Too bad he's not here now to satisfy me. You can use Philip since Klaus is not here, either."

Philip was too much in a state of male lust to understand how devastating my remarks were just then. Sarah got them all right. Philip was in a state that renders a man's intellect slightly lower than that of the dog I mentioned above, facing a bitch in heat.

Sarah looked at me, startled. She began to say, "No, that's okay, thanks anyway," but before she could get the words out Philip was all over her. He was on top of her kissing her, and pushing her legs apart with his knees. She broke the kiss, straight-armed Philip off her, and sat up straight, saying, "Philip, aren't you even going to ask me if I want you to do this?"

Taken aback, Philip said, "Oh. I just thought you did. I'm sorry. But I would love to enjoy you to the max if you're willing."

Sarah looked at me, I nodded, but Sarah stayed seated and was lost in thought. "I'm not sure this is a good idea. Joanie and I are sisters," she said, "And you are Joanie's lover."

Then I did something truly stupid. I was angry with Philip. I moved to the armchair and sat down, still naked and with my legs held tightly together, and said, "Thank you Sarah. You are very wise. Philip is a good fuck, and maybe you want to try that out."

"Fucking a mature man is different than with college boys, you know. I'll bet you ten Swiss francs he is better in bed than Klaus, too." I added, just to get in a dig at Philip, "Besides, I have my other lover, Philip's cousin Mike."

It was stupid, because Philip had never fucked another woman in front of me before. I had no idea even if he was unfaithful, although I assumed he was. I surely was unfaithful to him!

Not only was Sarah another woman, she was my sister. It was too much. Sarah knew this, hence her reluctance. Philip was lost in hormone-fueled lust, hence his idiocy about not understanding.

Sarah rose from the bed, naked and sexy as hell, and looked down at Philip. Her eyes went from his face to his cock, hard, erect, throbbing, and ready. She looked at me. Our eyes met and she looked deeply into mine. There was sadness detectable in her eyes.

I knew she wanted to fuck Philip. She had wanted to meet him for over a year, and now that she had met him she wanted the full carnal experience. She had heard my stories about Philip in bed. But she loved me more than her wants. She was clearly torn. Everything was in my power: They would do the deed or not, it was up to me.

I knew something else. Sex between Sarah and Philip was going to happen. I could tell they were both determined. The only issues were when, and if I was going to know about it up front, or learn it some brutal way when I least expected it. I decided the best time was now. Get it over with. No time like the present.

I said, "I'm trying to decide if I should watch, or go down to the bar while you two go at it."

Sarah begged me to stay. By doing so, she suddenly realized she had decided to let Philip fuck her. Philip figured out that much too. He has a brain when it helps him to get what he wants. Philip walked over to her, stood behind her, fondled her breasts and kissed the back of her neck.

Then he led her to the bed, placed her down gently, spread her legs gently, and climbed on top of her. They began to kiss. Sarah began to squirm underneath him. He raised himself on his arms, and Sarah kissed his chest and played with his chest hairs. He suckled her nipple.

Without warning Philip rose up higher and then plunged his cock into her. Sarah gasped and then they began to hump. I had forgotten how loud Sarah could be when she gets into a good fuck. And nobody knows better than I do that Philip is a good fuck. A very good fuck.

Erotic as the scene was watching my sister get royally fucked, I would have found it more tolerable, even enjoyable, if it had been someone other than my Philip doing the deed. I felt sick to my stomach. I got up and threw on a blouse, a skirt, and shoes and left for the hotel bar.

My blouse was slightly transparent, and without a bra it was scandalous in a place like Zurich and even more so in the hotel. My skirt was too short, especially since I was naked underneath it. I probably looked like a Swiss whore. Maybe Swiss whores looked more proper than I did just then? Who knew?

I buttoned all the buttons on the blouse up to my neck, but it being transparent and all, it was a lost cause. But I could not face going back to the room for a different one, given what was going on in there.

I took the elevator down to the lobby. There was a man in the elevator with me, and he stared at my boobs, plainly visible through my blouse. Not knowing how to handle this, I simply smiled at him. He returned the smile and kept staring at my boobs.

At the street level there were a few stores. I went to a boutique, using the entrance from the hotel. I explained I had dressed due to an emergency but I needed a more appropriate blouse. The saleswoman readily agreed with me.

I bought a blouse, a blouse that was proper, and charged it to my room, and of course wore it out of the store. The store told me it would send my transparent blouse up to my room, using the services of the hotel. The store did not sell bras, but at least my boobs were not clearly visible to everyone and anyone.

In addition to the man who took the elevator down with me and stared at my boobs, there were a few men in the lobby who noticed my boobs before I was able to buy the new blouse. I kicked myself, because I was aroused by the men's clear interest.

It's pretty easy to get men interested, when one walks around like that. Any woman could do it, it's not like I'm special. But still, it turned me on; especially so, because it was all by mistake.

I went into the bar and ordered a Scotch whiskey. I drank it quickly and ordered a second.

The man from the elevator who had been quite obviously enjoying looking at my boobs on the ride down approached me at the bar. My exhibitionism in the elevator, my drinking an entire Scotch whiskey in around two minutes, and my general demeanor of distress, gave the distinct impression something was seriously wrong.

He asked if I were okay, and I thanked him for his concern, gave him one of my best smiles, and said, "No. I'm not okay. I saw something I should never have seen. But I will recover, do not fear."

I think he realized it involved a man and some kind of betrayal, but of course he did not say anything to that effect. We made small talk for a while. Then he asked me if there is anything he could do to help?

I said, "Yes. Could you kiss me and hold me?"

Taken aback, he said, "Here, in the bar?"

I said, "No silly. Take me somewhere more discrete." There was an alcove in the lobby I had in mind, and off we went. He did not want to take me to the alcove; he said he had a better place, and he took me to his room. That was a mistake, of course.

His room had an even better view of the lake and the mountains behind it. We got into his room and he closed the door. We both just stood there. I was nervous, being alone in a strange man's hotel room, late at night, knowing he had seen my boobs through my blouse only a half hour ago. I looked at him and he held out his hand.

I accepted his hand and he pulled me into him. He did not have to pull hard. He kissed me and held me, just as I had asked. We kissed a long time. Our kiss evolved into a sexy open mouth kiss. His hands went under my new blouse and found my braless boobs.

It was decision time. How far would I let this go? I would have needed a couple more Scotch whiskeys to let things evolve to fruition. I decided to keep things above the waist. As I was having these thoughts I was enjoying his kisses and was distracted by their intensity, so I was unaware that he had quietly unzipped my skirt. He now quickly pushed it down to the floor, revealing that not only was I braless, I was also without panties.

I reached down to pull my skirt back up, but he had gotten the wrong message by my lack of panties, and while I was bent over reaching for my skirt, he pushed me down onto the floor of the room. I was now naked except that my blouse was bunched up around my neck. He promptly got on top of me, trapping me beneath him, using the weight of his body.

I don't know when he could have done this, but his pants were down and his erect cock was out to play. He must have done this too during the spectacular and long lasting kiss we shared.

I calmly explained that I did not want this and would he please get off me. He did not. I started to push him off as best as I could. He ignored me however and instead pinned my arms onto the floor. He was much stronger than I am.

He forced my legs apart and stuck his cock into my cunt. It was wet and inviting, due to his great kissing. Damn it. I was being fucked, and it even felt nice.

I said, "No! Get off me. You cannot fuck me!"

He looked at me puzzled, and then said, "Don't worry. I'll pay you more than your usual rate. I'll give you 500 Swiss Francs. You mouth may say no, but your body says yes."

He thought I was a whore. "No!!" I screamed. "You don't understand. Get off me! Let me up!"

He kept right on fucking me and said, "Okay, 1,000 francs." Strange thoughts sometimes flit through my head, at strange moments. I realized I did not even know what a Swiss franc is worth. (I later found out it is worth close to one US dollar.)

I began to protest more urgently, and he took me completely by surprise when he hit me in the face with his closed fist. He had never stopping his pumping in and out of me. I was in a state of shock.

I looked at him in horror. He was preparing to hit me again. The second time he punched my side, hard. I wondered if he had fractured one of my ribs. While he hit me, he never lost his rhythm and continued to fuck me.

I was scared. The first hit was very hard. I was worried he broke my jaw. The second hit was in the ribs, and just as hard. I was trapped, being beaten and fucked. I said, "Okay, 1,000 Swiss francs it is. Stop hitting me!"

He smiled, stopped hitting me and continued to fuck me. He said, "Deal," with a tone of voice as if it were one of his routine business transactions.

Since I had no choice, I tried to make the most of things, and I began to return the fuck, and started kissing him. His whole mood changed, and he replaced the brutality of his fucking with a more gentle, even a bit of a loving fuck.

I remembered I was the one who had picked up this man in the hotel bar, and he clearly wanted me, and that I had aroused his interest with my exhibitionist display of my boobs. Maybe my brain could turn it into a one-night stand, instead of what it clearly was?

No, that wasn't working.

I realized nevertheless that despite the change over him, and my own body's cooperation, I was still being fucked without my consent; even in spite of my telling him not to. These misogynist rich men think they can do what they want with women. They may be right, too.

As I began to enjoy the fuck in spite of myself, I thought of Sarah and how naturally noisy she is when she fucks. I decided I could do that too. I only had to let myself verbalize the feelings that were already there.

As I began to moan and say encouraging things, and then moan loudly, even at times very loudly, I could tell the animal on top of me was getting more and more into it.

I could feel his cock penetrating deeper within me, now that my cunt was sopping wet and even more welcoming. He was pushing hard, even sweating a bit. I wondered if he would have a heart attack while fucking me; he looked in distress. I did not want that. Well maybe on some level I did.

I need not have worried. I guess that's just the way this man is. It may be his genetic relation to pigs.

He was getting ready to cum, I could tell. I did not want him to cum inside me. I could not bear the thought of his sperm swimming up inside me. I thought fast. I knew he would not listen to anything I said, nor do me any favors. I was just a whore to him, to do with as he pleases. I had to figure out something that would entice him not to cum in me.

I said, "Please cum in mouth." He seemed to like that idea, and pulled out and then stroked himself a couple of times and stuck his cock in my mouth. It tasted of a mixture of his pre cum and my juices.

He pumped in and out of my mouth a few times, and wanting this to end I did the best I could, sucking him and running my tongue all around his cock. I clawed his back with my fingernails. Apparently all that together did the trick: He squirted into my mouth, his cum hitting the back of my mouth. Even his ejaculation seemed violent.

All done, he lay on top of me, and I made little happy sounds underneath him. I did not want to be hit again.

I rubbed my jaw. I'm not sure why, maybe because I ended up being a great fuck, or maybe due to guilt from having hit me twice, and hard both times at that, but as he got off me he said, "You were great. I'm giving you 2,000 francs." Then he went to his wallet as I assembled myself, and gave me the 2,000. I put it in my purse.

I gave him a kiss goodbye, which turned into quite a long kiss and some more breast fondling, but finally I got away from this animal. I had saved a little of his cum in my mouth and when we open mouth kissed, I transferred it to his mouth. I do not know if he realized it, or not.

I needed a little time to think. I had not realized how dangerous it was to go to a bar in Zurich incorrectly dressed. Lesson learned; message received. It also fit with my idea that rich men are pigs.

Chastened by the experience, I went back to the room. At least I was 2,000 francs richer. I had turned my first trick in Europe. I say that because I inadvertently had once turned a trick in a hotel in New York: I had picked up a man for some casual sex and he had thought I was a prostitute and the next day I awoke to find that he had paid me. So I had doubled my lifetime number of tricks. They were both inadvertent, and I guess that means something. Exactly what it means, I don't know.

I stopped at the door to the room. I listened through the door. I guess Philip was taking Sarah a second time, since I heard her signature moans and "Oh my Gods," the same ones she had used when she was sequentially ravished by our cousins Carlos and Ramon. I could not deal with this. I was psychologically unable to enter the room.

Fuck this, I thought, and went back downstairs to the bar. I found it closed for the night. I went to the lobby and sat in a chair. I was a sight: I had on no bra and no panties, my hair was not as it should be after my brutal sexual experience (was it rape? Was it just non-consent, whatever that is? I could not decide and preferred not to dwell on it). I kept my legs close together and sat still, so that my breasts would not jiggle.

After some thought, I went to the desk. I asked if Steve and Odessa were staying in the hotel. Steve is a banking colleague and friend of Philip, and Odessa is his girl friend. They are in love, and I met Odessa for the first time this trip, during the French part of it, but we had become close.

They were also staying at this hotel. I was saved. The clerk at the front desk refused to tell me their room, however. He also did not want to call them, because it was too late at night. He seemed quite firm.

I realized he thought I might be a whore. Maybe he could tell I was not wearing a bra. Perhaps my breath smelled of cum. It probably smelled of Scotch whiskey at the least. He had not seen me before, because he was the late night shift for the hotel.

I could not tell him I was a guest, since he might suggest I simply go back to my room and use some method to contact another guest at the hotel. I could not bear to return to my room; that was the whole point.

I thought fast. I saw his nametag and addressed him by name. I told him Steve and Odessa were expecting me to ring them hours ago, and might be worried sick. I lied and told him Odessa was my sister. He clearly did not believe me, but it must have been clear I was in distress. After what I had been through that night, anyone would have been in distress.

He rang them up and thank God Odessa answered the phone. I could hear just a bit where I was standing, and she sounded sleepy. The clerk told her that her sister Joanie was at the desk, and said that she needed to see her right away. I thanked God again when Odessa said, "Send her up right away, please."

I went to her room and she opened the door as I approached it. She could tell in an instant something was very wrong. I told her my story and she held me tight. She lent me one of her nightgowns and I undressed and put it on.

Odessa watched me carefully as I changed. I could tell she was admiring my body. Odessa had the strangest sexual proclivities of anyone I had ever met in my 20 years of life. I should qualify that, as I have only been sexually active for the last two years.

Nevertheless one could say I had been very active. I am a slut. So when I say Odessa is the strangest, it means something. Anyway, I knew at a minimum Odessa was bisexual. I was not.

Steve was fast asleep. "Don't worry about Steve," she whispered, "He fucked me four times tonight, once in the ass, and he is completely wasted. He could not get it up again if he wanted to. You are safe."

"I've cum five times already this evening, thanks to that man's talented mouth and cock. Don't worry about me, either," she continued.

I began quietly to cry, even sobbing a little, relieved I was finally safe. Odessa held me, and kissed my hair. I was so grateful for her comfort. She put her arm around me. Her other arm went to my thigh.

"Are you full of cum?" she asked.

"No, he squirted in my mouth. All the way to my throat."

"I love when that happens," Odessa said.

I quipped, "My girl, you love everything." We both began to giggle.

I could not believe it. Odessa had already got me to giggle. At some points tonight I thought I would never laugh again. I was so grateful to her, and felt so loved and cared for. In a huge surprise even to me, I leaned over and kissed Odessa on the mouth.

It was not that ridiculous, because the night before our trip to Europe Odessa had gone down on me in my NY hotel room. I was tricked into that at the time, but truth be told, I enjoyed it.

Odessa kissed me back, and our kiss evolved into an open mouth kiss. Our tongues entwined. Odessa's nightgown that I was wearing tied with a string, and Odessa pulled the string and slipped it down. It fell down and bunched at my waist. Odessa stared at my naked boobs, admiring them.

I pulled the string on Odessa's nightgown. She got up and her nightgown fell to the floor. She pulled me up, and my nightgown joined hers on the floor. She led me to the bed. She laid me down, next to the sleeping hulk of a man that was Steve, and she lay down on top of me, our cunts touching and rubbing together. She gently, sweetly, lovingly gave me a kiss.

My hands reached up to caress her back. She caressed my face with her hands, lingering softly on my ears. Then she started to slide down my body, kissing my nipples and sucking them a bit, gently, first one and then the other. Her mouth drifted down my body, constantly kissing me. It got tantalizingly close to her goal.

My breathing began to get heavy in anticipation of what was to come. She sat up, spread my legs, and began to stroke the fine hairs on the inside of my thighs. She was teasing me. Little by little she got closer to my cunt, and I began to squirm to force her fingers closer. Of course that did not work.