Kim's Descent Pt. 01

Kim was bored. In fact, she had been bored for the past few years. Rushing through college life in three years instead of four had put a stopper on the boredom admittedly, especially given the sorority she'd been a part of. But now she spent her days relaxing at home or catching up with friends, her cushy lifestyle funded by her high-flying father's job in banking.

She sat at her dresser, and wondered how things had come to this.

***

You see, it had all started off when, a few weeks after graduating, she'd been bored into action and decided to get a tattoo. The tramp stamp had gotten her all excited for a week or so, sure, but even if her parents were at home frequently they'd never know about it. Then came the nose ring. That had gotten her a reaction, and the names her socialite mother had called her did things for her that she was surprised about.

It was only six months ago when she'd finally had her tattoo sleeve finished that she knew for sure. She had came home straight away and stripped in front of the mirror in her walk-in closet. The girl that looked back at her was a far cry from high school or even college Kim. Curves filled out her 5'4" frame in all the right places, and her pert B-cup tits only highlighted her toned ass. Thick dark hair contrasted perfectly against her lightly-tanned skin, and her pussy moistened as she fantasised how someone could walk in and see her so exposed.

She shook her head and got changed into a tank top and shorts before going back to the bedroom proper and falling back onto the silk sheets of her king size bed, waiting out the hours until her parents deigned her with their presence at dinner.

When her Mom called her name from downstairs, Kim's heart fluttered and she anxiously padded downstairs, both apprehensive and anticipative of what her parents would say this time. She strolled into the dining room and sat down to eat, trying to keep the impassive look on her face.

When they asked her what the hell she'd done, she calmly told them, "I got another tattoo."

When they told her she'd ruined her chance at a career, she bit back, "If tattoos are going to stop me, what the hell stopped you?" at her Mom, trying and partly failing to keep the contempt out of her voice.

When they told her she looked like a slut though, her words failed her. Emboldened by her lack of response, they dug in like hyenas around prey. Little did they know, the more they described how much of an object she looked like, how little men would respect her, how much she had degraded herself, the more her pussy quivered. A red flush bloomed across her cheeks, which her parents mistook for her anger, and so when she abruptly stood up and excused herself, they acquiesced, thinking that she'd go to mull their words over in her room.

Instead, Kim bounded back to her room and slammed her door, falling onto the bed as she threw her clothes off. One hand pinched and pulled at her rock hard nipples and the other snaked its way down in-between her legs, running over her wet snatch. She traced circles around her clit and envisioned a faceless man having his way with her in a dark alley, his rough and callused hands roaming over her soft skin.

She plunged a finger, then two, inside herself, and fervently frigged herself as the faceless man in her fantasy pushed her against the wall, the cold brickwork rubbing up against her, and used her to get himself off. She could almost feel his veiny cock sawing in and out of her, how she tried and failed to get a hold the wall to push back onto his thrusting member.

She imagined him pushing two fingers into her mouth, coating them in her own saliva, before easing them in-between her ass cheeks and pushing against the ring of muscle hidden there that she'd never given anyone access to before.

His breath was rough and his grunts tingled in her ear as he tongued her earlobe, the stubble on his chin rubbing at her neck. When his fingers slipped past her asshole, she came, stifling a scream and seeing stars, the orgasm like an out of body experience. Her body tensed up so hard that thoughts of having to fight off a cramp flew through her head. The few seconds she spent frozen there with her ass hovering above the bed felt like a small eternity, and when she could finally breathe again her heart was threatening to burst out of her chest.

She lay there, basking in the afterglow and revelling in how dirty a place her mind had taken her, knowing that she'd awoken something deep and dark inside herself. An ocean of lust with currents that would take her further and further from the safety of land.

***

Kim shook her head free from her recollections and finished applying her lipgloss before she spritzed on some setting spray. The memory did nothing for the excitement she felt at what she had planned today.

Ever since that first orgasm, she had slowly and subtly progressed in her daring. In front of her street-facing bedroom window in the middle of the day, stealing away one of her Dad's thick leather belts and swatting her rear till it was red, once she had even came while on the phone with a random takeaway three states over, getting the flustered pizzeria worker to call her a slut. She was fast turning any situation that got her heart racing into a masturbatory session.

It had gotten to the point where even what she was going to do today was beginning to lose the edge that she was craving.

Checking her phone, she realised that she had time to make a quick coffee before the show got on the road.

The afternoon sun was beginning to set on the affluent suburban streets she called home. Slinking her way into the kitchen downstairs, Kim decided to get in a few minutes' reading while the coffee machine slowly dripped away. She continued reading once the coffee was done, opting to take a little rest before she began preparation in earnest.

As had happened many times before, she lost track of time while engrossed in her ebook. Moonlight was beginning to make its presence known outside by the time Kim woke from her readathon, and she downed the last dregs of her now cold coffee before moving to clean up after herself. She stopped, tilting her head at the wooden clothespins they used to keep their coffee bean packs closed, an idea forming in her head.

She heard the doorbell ring, and decided to go for it. She grabbed the clothespin and stuffed the pack in the pantry, tearing another off her Mom's preferred pack. It's not like it'll go off in a few hours she surmised. Kim ran upstairs and got to work.

**********

Grant bounded up the stairs to the front of the house, bottle of whiskey in hand. He yawned as he waited for Frank to open the door, praising his current girlfriend's depraved desires for the lack of sleep he was now suffering. Frank opened up, grinning as he greeted him.

"Oh hoo Grant, nice of you to show up!"

"Maybe if you told your wife to stop hanging around at my place after she stays the night, old man, I'd actually make it on time for once," riposted Grant, a shit-eating grin beaming past the brown stubble that mired his comparatively younger face.

"If only you were as quick on the trades as you are with the jokes, kiddo. Maybe then we'd be able to play for big money," said Frank, turning sideways to let him in, patting his back and leading him to the back of the house, where Frank knew the rest of their little Poker group would be gathered.

When he was promoted a year ago, he was finally invited to join the inner circle of bankers that his good friend Frank had been a part of. Grant knew that Frank had held off on asking him to join before the promotion simply as a way of giving him something to work for. After all, he thought, at some point making more money just loses its shine.

He still remembered that first game when, new to the game, he'd demanded them all to raise the buy-ins and play no-limit Hold'em, bewildered at why they were playing for tens of dollars instead of hundreds or even thousands.

It had only taken him twenty eight minutes and a cool fifty thousand dollars to realise that the bigger the price, the bigger the fall. If I wasn't as headstrong as I am, I'd never have shown up again, he thought.

When he got to the man-cave-come-mini-casino tucked away at the back of Frank's sprawling home, he couldn't help thinking how right he was.

"Well if it isn't ED! It's not like you to be the last one to cum at all!" Came Mark's sarcasm-laden greeting.

"Leave off Mark, you're just pissed that you didn't close the Pharma sale." Steve said coming to his aid. Standing up to wrap him in a hug, Steve's huge hand clapped his back and made Grant feel like someone had just taken a sledgehammer to it.

"Oof, thanks big gu-"

"Besides, he was probably just switching out his girl for this month's newest model," Steve ribbed.

Grant just feigned a look of hurt as he walked over to the bar and added the bottle he'd brought to the shelf, before pouring himself a double and sitting back on one of the Chesterfield couches that formed a half circle around the fireplace.

He took advantage of the lull in conversation to take in the refined elegance that only the man-cave of an older man could radiate. From his position, with his back to the corner of shelves full of books that Frank had actually probably read and the giant pedestal desk, Grant's gaze wandered over the herringbone-patterned solid wood floor, to the behemoth of a fireplace that gave off a warm orange glow, and across the panelled walls that displayed artfully curated abstract pieces.

On the other side of the room, a Persian rug flowed under a casino table, the soft glow of the ornamental bulbs that were strung around the bar behind it bouncing off its lacquered edges.

"Every time we play here Frank, I'm amazed at how such a classless man could design such a classy hideout."

Frank just rolled his eyes, "Hideout? Not all of us are as young as you, we don't actually need to hide in our own homes."

"What's this about hiding?" Josh spoke up, his usual quietness in an informal setting a stark contrast to the brash man he was at work when the markets opened.

Frank just grinned, "Didn't I tell you about last week?" A slow shake of the head was all the bastard needed to spill the beans on what he'd promised Grant he wouldn't speak of.

"Why it was only the other day when I went to Grant's place, and I saw him hightailing it out of his own apartment." He paused for dramatic effect. "Closely chased by the hottest latino woman I've seen since Mark's first wife."

Frank smiled at the round of laughter that earned him. Even Grant couldn't help but chuckle, they all knew what he was like anyway.

"Yeah well if you knew what she was like in the sack you'd be running too. Hell I'm sure even Josh would've turned her away?"

He saw their questioning faces and smiled, knowing he'd got them hooked.

"She wanted me to shave her head, slap her up until she started crying, then proceed to fuck her while she bawled her eyes out." The four men quietly laughed away, partly from how absurd it was and partly how oddly specific. "That's not even the worst part though. She finished it off by saying how she'd always fantasised about pegging a guy."

The quiet laughter stopped for half a second before all of them guffawed.

"Hey man, there's worse problems to have," commiserated Steve, "at your wife isn't asking for you to get a vasectomy."

"Oooh ouch, unlucky big guy. I feel you though, ever since the old ball and chain hit 40, the sex has just been declining," Josh said. "I guess you should count your lucky stars while you can Grant, before you know it you actually will be needing ED pills."

The guys carried on cracking jokes while Grant took a minute to think about Pastor Josh's teachings. The youngest of the group, 44 years old and he was still enjoying the bachelor lifestyle. Sure, he'd had girlfriends pretty much one after the other for the past few years, but it was never long enough for him to actually consider any of them a serious relationship.

Damn, I must be getting old, he thought with melancholy. He missed what the guys had toasted to, but raised his glass all the same, and felt the warm burn as he downed his drink.

"So. Enough of the small talk. Are we playing boys?"

The chorus rang in affirmative, and they made their way over to the poker table, refilling drinks before taking their seats. As always, the first hour consisted of unlimited rebuys. By the time the game proper was to begin, Grant was comfortably sitting at second, with Mark not too far ahead. Josh and Steve were both on relatively level pegging about 150 bucks behind him.

***

By the time Grant had bust, there was only Josh and Mark left in the game. He was happy with how it had turned out; he'd come a long way since not making it past the first hour of play during his first few games. Nowadays he mainly went bust after one or two of the others had already lost, but he was yet to claim his first win.

Standing up, Grant stretched out, the rush of adrenaline from playing fast leaving him feeling the full brunt of his tiredness.

"Hey Frank, mind if I get myself a coffee? I'm falling asleep over here."

"You know where the machine is my man," replied Frank as he turned over the three community cards.

Grant thanked him and made his way back through the house to Frank's kitchen. He raised his eyebrow at the packs that had been left opened when he went to grab the blend both he and Frank preferred. He let the machine do its thing and turned to look over his friends house.

Having lived in an apartment downtown for the past two years, Grant could feel the money in his account itching to be spent, especially since his promotion had come with a tidy pay rise and increase in commission rate. While not marking himself down for the white-picket-fence lifestyle just yet, he couldn't help but appreciate how much more comfortable living in a house like this would be.

The foyer of the house divided the garage at the other end and the open plan living area. Here, polished wood ran the length of the floor, leading from the foyer, down into the recessed lounge area. Plush couches faced a large flatscreen, and a coffee table that could have taken a part time job as a Michelangelo sculpture held up a vibrant bouquet of flowers. The dining area on the far left consisted of a large slab of Venetian marble around which ten modern yet timeless chairs stood. Even where Grant stood in the kitchen, dark granite countertops contrasted perfectly against the cabinetry, and the range hood that hovered above the cooker looked like a hovering UFO.

Taking it all in, Grant decided to ask Frank about the cleaners he used; there wasn't a speck of dust to be seen, even in a kitchen that he knew saw hardly any real use. He ran his hand along the kitchen island to check and further his belief about how clean everything was to the point of being sterile, when he bumped his hand over something.

The phone that lay face down on the island practically melded into the dark grey of the countertop, explaining why he hadn't noticed it before. He picked it up, his curiosity getting the better of him.

....what kind of website is literotica?

**********

Kim was on the floor, the door to her room closed but unlocked. She'd been there since her Dad's friends had come over. Slowly, tortuously edging herself. Initially, she'd started off having to wait every other month for them to play their game, and so it was something to look forward too. Now though, with her Dad having finished his 'clubroom', they came to play once every other week, so it had become more routine than occasional experience.

She lay on her back, slumped against the foot of her bed, her legs bent open so that if anyone walked in, the first thing they'd see is her rubbing her slit achingly slowly. A thin sheen of sweat covered her, as she retracted her hand once she'd felt an impending orgasm. At this point, it felt more like someone else denying her release than herself; if she'd had the presence of mind to wake from her current fantasy, she'd have been long past the point of cumming.

A grey silk curtain tie back was wrapped around her eyes, and she'd put her AirPods into noise cancelling mode. She lay there, moving her hands to paw and pinch at her tits instead, prolonging but never pushing past her oppressive state of arousal. All she could feel were her own nails running over her firm flesh, the red marks she couldn't see but knew were there painfully delicious. She took great care to avoid her nipples, the clothespins that bit down on her threatening to make her cry out, instead opting to nudge them once she felt she was far enough away from an orgasm that the pain that would follow would only push her back to the edge.

Kim had created her own purgatory, the lack of light and sound working to only increase her receptiveness to the feeling of touch, the smell of her own arousal so pungent she felt like she could drown in it.

In her minds eye, she was surrounded by the men who'd watched her transform from awkward teenager to young woman, the only men with whom fucked was just the right balance of sexually right and morally wrong. She imagined herself a slave to their whims, their hands the ones that were crawling over her, their hands the ones that had been at her slit for so long that her wetness had dribbled down and pooled onto the carpet.

She had been at it for so long that her mind had turned to mush, the only thing that she cared about was her release. She'd been whimpering for it for the past twenty minutes, and imagined her admirers begin to push her to the edge for one last time.

Something touched her lips and Kim froze, hand above her clit.

For Kim, time froze. Her brain struggled to to wake from the fantasy and think about what was happening. Whatever had touched her was still there, moving ever so slightly across her lips. In her sex-addled stupor, she opened her mouth without thinking and leaned forward ever so slightly, to realise that she had wrapped her lips around the swollen tip of a cock.

By now, she at least had the clarity to question the manhood that had just leaked precum onto her tongue. She reflexively lapped at the mushroom tip, trying to coax more out. In the half-world between fantasy and reality that Kim now existed, she slowly moved her hands to her makeshift blindfold, debating whether she actually did want to know whose dick she was sucking.

Firm hands held hers and pulled them back away from her head. They left her hands, only to reappear in her limited senses at the back of her head, gently digging into her hair and pushing her along the length of the cock.

Her heart was pounding so loud that Kim thought the cock must be able to feel the pulse from her mouth. As if in a trance, she moved to her knees away from the bed, slowly running her tongue up and down the foreign invader and feeling out the little bumps of a vein, the cleft at the bottom, the slit at the end.

She was scared. So scared. Her mind had fractured, half still playing out the fantasy, the other half trying to figure out whose dick was edging its way to the back of her throat inch by inch. But she couldn't face the outcome. There was only a handful of men that it could be, and that it could be any one of them had her mortified.

She increased the speed of her ministrations, her head travelling faster up and down the considerably sized penis. The hands at her head began to rub her scalp, causing Kim to moan in appreciation. Her own hands moved to run across her own body, massaging the drool that had leaked onto her tits into her skin.

The next time she dived back up the phantom phallus, she felt it push firmly against the back of her throat, and she instinctively moved her head backing time with its thrust. It retreated and thrust again, and again she moved back in time with the forward motion, her nose still failing to feel the stomach that signalled an end to the lengthy member.