Little Miss Anything Ch. 03

The rest of the day was spent, well, sort of dripping in luxury. Tye brought me breakfast in bed! This was a man who'd not touched a kitchen in years. Then he worked on his writing in the living room, while I lay on the couch, in the sun, and dozed, read...and posed. Not completely naked, you know, but not totally dressed, either. I became fascinated with the play of sunlight and shadow on my breasts, belly, and my fur. I let him see the afternoon sun tingeing the hairs with gold, to match the glistening pink as I opened my puss now and again (mostly again and again and again). He'd reach over and squeeze my boobs now and again: well, I sort of shoved my boobs at his hand...again and again. You get the picture.

Yet, seriously, I wondered, "girl, you're glowing! He notices, too, and this is a 100% fucked out man. You feel marvelous. But, you were just raped by a madman fucker. You just had a huge stiff cock shoved into some of the tenderest, most sensitive parts you have. This hard, almost rigid organ then jammed into you, again, repeatedly slamming into your body. Hard enough to cause your boobs to bounce, your whole body to jiggle and jump. You had 200 lbs. + of red-hot man digging at you, and pumping his rod into you, and then unleashing spoonfuls of white protein jism into your body."

Twice!

I continued the thought. "Your college physiology says you should be battered, bloody, in agony. If this had been a prize fight, the referees would have stopped it on account of injury. But, you feel fine! You glow! And it shows to someone else, too. (Yeah, forget that he's the one that pumped you.) How come?"

I didn't have an answer, so I dozed off, waking only when I felt an ice-cold finger in my puss. I jumped, and Tye handed me a beer, in a glass. I called him a first-class mother-fucker, and he replied, "I certainly hope so, mommy" then returned to his word processor.

But I had a thought. His jism, his semen. Only about 5% of it was wiggling, jiggling sperm, trying their best to be baby- makers. The rest was...what? Sure, lubricants, sperm- preservatives, I don't know what all. "He shoots a couple of tablespoons of hot semen into me, each time. And I'm ready for it. My pussy is swollen, engorged, full of blood. So is my love canal, so is everything that is down there. He shoots and shoots, and keeps pumping me, so it mixes with my liquid lubricated cum."

Boy, does it ever!!!

"But then," I continued to myself, "he gets soft, and has to pull out or fall out, unless he can go a second time. All that lovely, sticky cum stays in me. I don't wash it out, because it feels good up in there. Why, there's junk up me from yesterday night."

"Is there something in hot semen, jammed into a willing, raunchy, ready woman, that she needs...that she can use?" The thought shocked...and intrigued, too. "Is there something (chemical; biological; bio-chemical) in semen, that passes from my swollen, wanting cunt, into me? that makes me feel good, when, by all other rights, I should feel battered, abused, bruised." The thoughts kept tumbling out. "Is there something in semen that makes a willing, well-fucked woman feel happy, content, well-used, wanting more?"

"Because I sure do want more," I dazedly gathered, "and I think I'll do that 'anything' to keep getting it!"

That little voice said, "well then, what about rape?" I answered, rather disdainfully, "what about it? She doesn't want it, wants it out of her as fast as possible, doesn't get excited, or swollen, or willing-wanting. The chemical exchange doesn't happen. Same thing for a relationship that's dead, or dying...like I used to have, an age ago...yesterday."

"The 'rape' I just had was phoney as a $3 dollar bill. I did just about everything but jam my twat onto his prong in mid- air."

"Hmmmmm, what a nice, nasty idea, too." I looked down the length of my interested, "glowing" body, thinking, "this body was made for fucking, it's fun, I like it, and let's see how I can get him to give me some more. 'Cause I like to feel this way, an' if pumping, spurting jism is the way I get there, then...let the 'games' begin!"

- - - - - -

I was gently shaken out of my reverie by Tye straddling my chest, and putting his pretty-limp dick between my little boobettes. I started to bend over to lick it, but he held my head back, eyes dancing mischeviously. What?

"OK," he teased, "you think you're some kind of a writer, don't you." He massaged my stiffening nipples. "You've been trying to write serious stuff, and send it in, for God knows how long." He was gently pulling and twisting the nipples, and was I feeling it? Uh-huh. "Well," he continued, half-pompously, "here's your chance."

Pant, pant, "What?"

"You get to write an advertisement for one of the swinger magazines. I think the raunchiest, all-color ones would be best for you."

Pant, gasp, "Huh?" as he kept playing with my titties.

"Don't play innocent with me, little miss 'anything'" he laughed. "You've been having sexy daydreams about screwing up to 20 guys--and girls--a day, for years now. OK, you get to write up an advertisement to call 'em in."

"But, but...," I sputtered, as he moved up toward me and plunked his semi-soft cock in my mouth, which effectively cut off my forming words.

"But yourself, let's see if you can advertise as well as you daydream, maybe you'll find out it's harder than it looks." He pulled out of my mouth, leaving it open, drooling saliva and wonderment. Husband? 11 years? More like a university-trained intelligent satyr. He went back to massaging my boobs, which went on for quite a while, interspersed with a lot of nipple sucking. My hips jumped and rolled, and, as I started to cum, I heard him say, almost casually:

"Oh, by the way, one condition on the ad. You can only use the letter "S" to start all your words. You know, like the first letter in 'S-E-X' or 'S-L-U-T'. And if you miss a letter, little miss 'anything', I'll let some of our friends watch you fucking and take pictures. If you miss another letter, or so, then I'll let some of them fuck you too."

"So there," he finished.

"You wouldn't," I panted, with my tits on fire, my twat dripping...again! He held up a little book, and said, "names, addresses, and phone numbers. You've been daydreaming out loud at our parties, and some of our friends think you swing...both ways, too...miss a couple 'a letters, an' ya' get ta' prove it."

"So, maybe you'd better get writing...or practice having some other cocks inside your swollen little tush, for real." He got off me, took the little book, and put it in his desk, locking up the drawer it was in.

I actually heard him giggle as he dressed and drove off the lawn to do some shopping.

His pile of girlie magazines were where they'd always been, no great attempt to hide them anymore. I found the swinger stuff fast. My, oh my, some of color pictures were...frank? explicit? There weren't any words to say. And the ads, what they offered? And these were regular, everyday people, too. And I 'had' to write up one of these ads...

Using only S-words.

...Wow!...

I won't tell you of the struggle. The dictionaries. The reference books. Learning how to use the word processor, finally. What 'cracked the whip' for me was that last 'promise'. Pictures, videos of me 'in action'. Other cocks in me, spasming semen into my secret places. I really believed Tye would do it, too. He grinned too much, while I worked, taking time off, frequently, to massage my boobs and caress my thighs, and lick my ears and neck.

He fucked me twice, right in the middle of a sentence. Made me loose my place, loose my creative thoughts. Left me dripping sweat, oozing jism from my cunt and dripping off my boobettes.

So what did I come up with? Read for yourself:

"Sexy slut stoops, straddles, squats, spreads shapely slit. She sucks, slurps, slobbers, swallows slimy sperm. Seeks sturdy stiff sanitary studs, stallions, sex-starved sailors, soldiers, satyrs, students, seniors, sloppy seconds, service six, seven sizable slabs. Squeeze squishy, sopping, soaked snatch. Sink steaming shaft, split slippery sensitive slot so soft smooth shapely submissive shameless slut shivers, screams, spasms. Slam stuff, screw strumpet. Stretch sphincter, spew, spurt, splash, spatter spunk. Squirt, shoot semen seed. Suck stiff standing (nipples). Slip steaming shaft separating (boobs). Slow sensual strip shows, seamed stockings, spiked shoes, strut sexy slit sheath skirt showing slippery self sometimes. Sighing, sweaty, steamy, sticky sex sought. See sizzling snapshots, spectacular small screen sex scenes, swing sessions, series, sequels. Send SASE."