Mars Memoirs Ch. 02

Oona doesn't wait for a reply but lies back on her side next to me and I wince when the humming probe again begins sliding over my magic spot. The nerves inside my cock are already jangled, afire from the previous tremors, and I feel the semen begin to boil, quivering to the vibrations of her tool, and move almost immediately. Hoping for the best, but fearing the worst, I can't help but beg, "Oona, please don't stop. I so need to come."

"And you will, John." Pause. "When I'm ready." Sexy cackle.

On it goes. Each time I reach the brink Oona's tool abandons my throbbing flesh, and she strokes my chest, pulls my chain, fondles my elevated testicles, drags her nails maddeningly across my inner thighs, kisses me, and whispers sensuously, "No, not yet, John. Maybe next time." Then, after my twitching stops, my breathing becomes regular, I hear the humming begin anew, feel the mattress compress as she lies back on her side, and her torture device returns to rolling over my eager spot, jiggling it ever so softly, ever so gently.

Despite the fog of torment clouding my brain, I sense that Oona, too, is being aroused by what she is doing. She obviously loves controlling me, using her tool to bend me to her will and continually frustrate me. Having power over me seems an aphrodisiac, and is turning her on immensely. The piquant, alluring aroma of her lubricous sex, her rapid breathing, and the edge of passion in her voice, all heighten my all-consuming arousal, precluding rational thought. I hardly even register her sultry whisper, and do a double take when I grasp the meaning, "John, this is such fun, isn't it? But I need to come, so let's move to the next step."

Praise God, yes!

Under her appliance's relentless, maddening stimulation, I again feel my fluid, which has been pooling inside me, seething, for over half an hour, surge up, eager and determined to finally gush forth. Just as it gets close, is almost there, when I arch backwards, toes curling, breaths coming in ragged hisses, just when I'm terrified that she will stop once more, Oona holds it on me. Overjoyed at finally being able to release, I feel the cum rush up to the very edge, the point of no return, and the next roll of her tool over my spot drags it over the top. But then, nothing; the vibrator abandons me just as the gism breaks free.

Oona rips off my mask and says, "Look, John. Watch it happen." We both see the first drops ooze out, fill the reservoir of the condom, then be flushed aside as the next ejaculation inflates it. Again and again, thick, white fluid appears at the head, forms a viscous glob, and pushes against the end of the condom, ballooning the bulb. Though I've seen ruined orgasms in porn, I have never experienced one, and moan in frustration and bewilderment each time my cock stiffens, distends, and expels more creamy juice. Each time it ejaculates, my penis just tingles rather than explode in ecstatic release. I'm perplexed and distressed at the lack of the accustomed climactic completion.

"Very good, John. Let's see how you did," Oona says once I've finished. "Oh, be still," she scolds when the fiery sparks in my hypersensitive, over-stimulated penis make me squirm and twitch. She works the condom off me, taking care to capture every drop. After tying a knot in the end of the rubber, she holds it up, eyeing the pool of semen, hefting it. She smiles at my balls as she takes them in hand, and says, to them, not me, "Not bad, boys, but I'm sure you'll do better next time." Then, to me, "It looks creamy, doesn't it? Next time I'll really milk it out of you." Her hands disappear from my view, and I feel the cock ring tighten. She also makes quick work of rolling on another condom.

My mind is still reeling as she quickly throws her leg over me and sits up straight. She reaches back, removes her bra, then pulls the crotch of her panties to the side, aims me, and sits down on my cock. "Mmm. That's nice, John. I got off the pill when I divorced Hank, so, we need to use rubbers. I hope you don't mind. It's better, actually, as this way I can see how much you ejaculate, and compare one to another. That will be fun, won't it?"

I am amazed that I am still erect, still very interested in sex despite just ejaculating, and especially stunned at how this incredible woman has so adroitly controlled my body, making it do what I never knew was possible. As Oona begins screwing me I surmise that the ruined orgasm, lacking any explosive culmination, must not have released the chemicals into my brain that have always killed my sex drive, limped my dick, and made sleep feel imperative. I'm still totally into fucking, or in this case, being fucked.

Myriad impressions compete for my attention: Oona's hair dangling down, dancing on her bouncing breasts, her erect nipples tantalizing my eager, frustrated, restrained fingers, her wetness oozing down the shaft of my penis moistening the cord wrapped around my scrotum, the feel of her pussy holding and stroking my erection. It is wonderful, entrancing.

Oona hits her stride, riding at a controlled canter, using me, sliding her clitoris up and down my shaft. As her arousal grows she speeds to a full gallop, rocking her hips with her dancer's athleticism and grace, driving her clit across my cock until she abruptly stops, arches backwards, trembles, and collapses onto me, gasping, quivering, and shuddering. I kiss her forehead as she moans and twitches.

After a moment's rest she shudders, kisses me, and murmurs, "That was nice, John. I needed that." She sits back up and begins fucking me again, sliding to and fro, using me to pleasure herself. After her third orgasm, as she is lying atop me, gasping for breath, her vagina still rippling on my penis, I whisper, "Oona, please untie me. I really want to touch you."

"But can I trust you, will you do what I say?"

"Yes, of course. This is marvelous, insanely erotic. I don't want it to end."

Oona keeps my cock captured in her pussy as she unties my feet. I realize how much I've been pulling against the restraints on my wrists when the cuffs fall open and cool air tingles chaffed skin.

When my hands yield to the magnetic pull of her breasts, Oona smiles, pulls my hands tighter to her, then reaches back, grabs my elevated, separated balls and gently squeezes them. She whispers alluringly, to them, "Come on, boys. Get to work. I want a bigger load this time." Then she starts screwing me again.

The scene is so hot, so erotic, that soon I once again feel the gism begin to move inexorably, deep within me. Oona has no trouble reading my body and stops immediately. She cautions, "John, so you're able to come again? I know you really want to, but that would put an end to our fun, wouldn't it? Just stay still for a moment. Pull the semen back down, keep it inside you. Let it pool, let your balls make more. As soon as you have it under control, tell me and I'll start fucking you again."

"Are you trying to kill me?"

"Of course, but it will be a very sweet death. Now be a good boy and do as I say."

Something about Oona's clever, snippy answer proves the last straw. It is the culmination of her whole scenario of controlling me, frustrating me, denying me any say in how our sex plays out, and I've put up with her games long enough.

"My goodness!" Oona gasps as, with a guttural grunt, I snap my head, arms, and legs back against the mattress and arch upwards, launching us both into the air. My arms lock around her, spin her under me, and I fall on her like an eagle taking a hapless rabbit. My teeth close on her neck, my fingers embed in her ass, and Oona gasps when I drive myself back into her.

Soon she can't even manage to gasp as my deep, hard, rapid thrusts literally drive her breath from her. Oona's attempted objections dissolve into meaningless mush when the powerful orgasm erupts within her. She arches backwards, trembling, splayed legs shaking uncontrollably, as strangled cries escape her clenched teeth. Her coming to my command, dancing to the tune of my cock impaling her, is incredibly erotic, and I fuck her still harder and faster.

I gasp when the muscles of my back, buttocks, thighs and calves bunch and lock, arching my back and driving my cock in to the hilt as wave after wave of searing fire consumes me. I feel the back pressure as I inflate the condom, over and over, and only when I'm nearing the end, when my cock just burgeons and clenches but little more cum is available to be ejected, does my consciousness expand beyond my fanatical focus on fucking. I become aware of Oona, of her anguished sobbing, uncontrolled weeping as she trembles beneath me.

I'm stunned by the power of my orgasm, but truly alarmed at how my screwing this wonderful woman has ended in such abject desolation for her. When I quickly get off, she rolls away from me and curls into a defensive ball, her body wracking with sobs. When I take her in my arms to try to comfort her, she elbows me viciously in the chest, driving me back. But I'm undeterred and again wrap my arms around her, holding hers tight to her body so she can't elbow me again.

"Oh my God, Oona, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. Please, tell me what's wrong?"

Silence.

Her sobbing eventually abates, as do her futile struggles to escape my grasp. When I repeat my apology, she sighs, then tells me that I should just leave. Though I am still truly mystified about what went wrong, what happened that made her react so negatively, I am determined to find out and fix whatever it is that I did.

Though short, our argument is tedious. I say I will not leave until she tells me what is wrong. She demands that I leave. I aver that I will not until she tells. She demands that I leave. She struggles to escape my arms, locked around her. I'm way too strong for her, though, and when she quits struggling I again ask what the trouble is. After five more minutes of standoff, her immovable object breaks down against my irresistible persistence. In a last paroxysm of defiance, Oona angrily tells me to go fuck myself. When I steadfastly refuse, to either violate myself or depart until she talks to me, she finally relents.

Anger has replaced pain in her low, accusatory voice. "What you did -- I realize it probably seemed natural to you, John, to just take me -- brought back a dark memory. My need to be in control when having sex stems from something that happened to me when I was in college. Since you're so damned insistent, and I know you didn't intend to hurt me, I'll tell you about it, but first I need more wine. Arrange the pillows against the headboard for us. I'll be right back."

She dons a terry robe, disappears into the kitchen and returns in a minute with our wine glasses, an ice bucket, and a fresh bottle of King Estate. One of the nipple clips had become dislodged during my thrashing, and, while Oona is getting the wine I remove it and the now-loose cock ring. I tie the end of the condom and put it on her dresser, next to the first. She earned this other trophy, and I'm anxious to make amends.

Once we recline on the pillows, Oona begins. I'm relieved that her voice has lost its edge of animosity. "I was 19 years old, a sophomore in college, still quite naïve though certainly not a virgin, and was dating this senior. Edmund was handsome, very self-assured -- which I found sexy for some reason -- and an officer in his fraternity. We hadn't had sex yet -- we'd been together for less than a month and I wanted to take things slowly, which I know frustrated him -- when he invited me to a party at his frat.

"Long story short, he got me very drunk and, when I started to feel woozy he suggested I lie down for a bit. He helped me upstairs and into his room. I realized he must have planned everything when I saw the lit candles. Once inside he started kissing me, hugging me, and feeling me all over, all the while telling me how beautiful and sexy I was. As we'd previously done some quite heavy petting, I went along, at least until he undid my belt and my jeans. I tried to stop him, but was really out of it, and he just forced his hand into my pussy and started fingering me.

"My attempts to say 'no' were at first smothered by his kisses. Finally, when my thrashing about, trying to escape, to get him to stop, proved futile, I decided I'd cry out for help, but another hand covered my mouth from behind. I knew I was in deep trouble when two more hands grabbed my arms and pulled them behind me. Edmund began unbuttoning my blouse, while still other hands pulled down and removed my jeans and panties.

"Once I was naked, Edmund's two friends pulled me back on bed, held me down, all the while covering my mouth. Edmund had been telling me all along how gorgeous I was, how sexy, how I just needed to relax, let it happen and we'd all have a good time, but he quit talking when he went down on me.

"I was conflicted. Something about the situation was arousing. I'd had rape fantasies, as many repressed women do. Nancy Friday covered this very well in her books, how women imagine being forced, which eliminates the guilt of being complicit, of saying yes. However, as Friday also wrote, there's a huge difference between fantasy and having it actually happen. What was happening to me was real and scary, not nearly as arousing as my fantasies.

"At any rate, I didn't come, and after a few minutes Edmund got tired of trying, slid up my body and just fucked me. The scenario must have really turned him on, as he came in almost no time. I got my first inkling of what was in store when I saw the guy to my right, still holding my arm, use his other hand to undo his pants and work them down. His cock was very hard, and the candlelight glistened on the wet tip.

"Once Edmund was done, he pulled out of me and moved to my right, took over control of my arm, kissed my forehead and whispered, "God, Oona, I've been wanting to do that since I first saw you a month ago. You're fantastic! Such a hot, tight, sexy cunt!" My attempted retort was smothered by the hand covering my mouth, and my train of thought, about how I could escape, maybe fight back, was obliterated by the feel of the next penis pushing into me.

"Denny was a quick comer, too, and as he was tensing up, gasping and twitching as he emptied into me, I glanced to my left, and sure enough, the third guy -- I learned his name was Chuck -- was undoing his jeans. I'll never forget the feeling of being disembodied, how a part of me just left my body and hovered high over the bed, watching, and later on, controlling me. That part came up with a plan for how to survive, and when Chuck stuck his cock in me -- though it was the biggest, thickest, it went in easily, as I had two loads of slick cum coating my vagina -- I started kissing Edmund's hand as it covered my mouth. He was puzzled at first, but eventually took his hand away.

"'Edmund, let go of my arm. It's OK,' I said. He did, and so did Denny. I took Edmund's cock in my hand and pulled it to me. It was pretty flaccid, but still slick, and I tasted his cum when I put it in my mouth. I'd learned how to get my boyfriend hard and ready for another round the year before when I was a freshman, and Edmund was easy. Once I had his cock erect, I gave it a final lick, kept it hard with my hand, and pulled Denny's limp prick into my mouth. His eyes went SO wide, amazed at what I was doing, and by the time Chuck was done, Denny was hard, too."

"I told Edmund to go ahead and fuck me again, directed Chuck to come close so I could suck him, and kept Denny up and eager with my hand. Though the disembodied part of me was just watching dispassionately, my body started reacting to being fucked. When it took all three of them longer to come the second time, the further stimulation built and built, and I came. Lots. I tried not to, then tried to hide it, to keep them from having the satisfaction of making me have orgasms, but I couldn't. The feeling was just too powerful.

"Edmund was skillful and thumbed my clit as he fucked me the second time. I came once before he did and was right on the verge of another when he finished. I was so aroused, so close, that, when Denny just started pumping his cock in and out of me, it brought me off right away. I still remember his leering smile and laugh as I trembled and shook as he screwed me. Even the shame of coming to such a jerk's cock couldn't stop my body from succumbing again, especially when Edmund held a vibrator on my clit. I came even harder and the convulsions of my vagina made Denny shoot. Chuck was more gentle for his second turn, and he took a long time. He seemed to know what did it for me, and brushed my cheek both times I trembled, twitched and gasped, and I actually felt his gushes inside me when he shot off.

"My orgasms excited them and helped me get them up for a third round, but I was so overstimulated that I quit coming. After their third ejaculations I could tell they were done, but I wasn't. My disembodied self was angry said it was revenge time, that I should keep going, egging them on, until they couldn't get hard anymore. Savor my victory as I called them limp-dick eunuchs. As Chuck worked to get off for the third time, I pulled Edmund's cock to me and used all my best tricks. He did get semi-hard, enough for him to get it inside me, but, though he pumped me long and hard, there was no way he could ejaculate a fourth time.

"When that became obvious I said scornfully, 'Eddy boy, fish or cut bait. I need a MAN, someone who can fuck me good.' When I pushed him away -- I could tell he was angry at being shown up, but I didn't care as I was getting my revenge -- and told Denny it was his turn. He couldn't even get hard enough to get it in, even when he squeezed his cock around the root. When I told him he was a limp-dick wimp, he called me a bitch and a whore and said I'd better watch my mouth, but I just laughed at him as I pulled Chuck's nearly hard cock to my flooded pussy.

"Chuck was an athlete, a second string running back, and his stamina was amazing. I tried to taunt him, too, to distract him so he couldn't ejaculate and I could laugh at him, completing my revenge. But he shut his eyes in concentration and, dear God, how he pumped me! As I bounced up and down on the mattress under his massive thrusts, I tried so hard not to come, but he was like some wild animal, a stallion, and I got swept away as the feelings just coursed out from my vagina and clit. When he saw that I was close, right at the brink, he slowed down, drawing it out for me. Making it nice. He kissed me sweetly and murmured, "Come for me, sexy Oona, come for me." I found I actually wanted to, and let it happen. Edmund and Denny cheered Chuck on as I gasped, trembled and shook as his big black cock emptied into me.

"When I started to cry, devastated that my body had betrayed me, my plan for revenge had backfired, Edmund and Denny just laughed, told me that if I ever said anything about what had happened that they'd circulate the video they'd taken, and left.

"Chuck was different. He lay down on the bed beside me and hugged me to him tenderly as I wept. He told me he was so sorry, that he'd make things right, and once I'd stopped crying, he had me watch as he deleted the video on the VCR. Then he helped me get dressed, led me out the back door of the frat house, and walked me home so I'd be safe.

"Chuck was so kind and sweet that I went out with him for awhile, and he confessed to fixing things as best he could. After I told him that I couldn't stand the embarrassment of going to the authorities he confronted the others. When I ran into Denny a few days later, even though he ran from me like I was a ghost, I saw how bruised and swollen his face was, and Chuck told me Edmund spent a night in the hospital after they'd fought.