The Art of Anal Pt. 10

The Art of Anal Part 10

By Autumn, I condensed my sexual portfolio, one investment at a time. First to go was Andrew after the last gangbang. Our solo sessions were not particularly mind-blowing, but he functioned better as an extra stunt cock with the ladies. However, they found his personality grating and soon lost interest in hooking up with him. I think the feeling was mutual, and we stopped communicating with each other.

Next came the well-constructed but severely myopic Mandy, who was miffed that Bella, her fellow student and part-time lover, was messing around with me. We were not in an exclusive relationship, and I did not hide the fact that Bella willingly joined my portfolio. Mandy stopped dropping in the Broken Hill Hotel on a Friday evening after class with her colleagues, including Bella. Mandy's mother later said that her daughter was involved with a guy long before I came on the scene, and that relationship was becoming more serious. That nugget of information made a mockery of Mandy's faux outrage with me.

I continued knocking boots with Bella after Mandy's exit. She was attractive and loved to experiment with sex. Like Mandy, I anally deflowered Bella. Since that time, anal had become a staple part of playtime. Additionally, we were having fun in public places like what I was doing with Leah, Mandy's mother, but not as intense or risqué. Bella exited my portfolio after she became infatuated by the sales manager of the sex shop where she purchased a butt plug. We remained friends and occasionally drunk together in town. Bella propositioned me several times, but I was in an exclusive relationship with Paula by that time.

After our gangbangs and several solo sessions, Paula worked up the courage to take control of her life from her overbearing husband. He was not physically abusive, but he treated Paula more like a servant rather than a wife. She was denied a career and was expected to tend house all day while Paula's stoner husband and his mates played with their muscle cars. With gentle encouragement from me and others, Paula moved out of the marital home, secured a house and her first job since her marriage began at the local leisure centre. As all the changes occurred, Paula and I became remarkably close. Of the five, she was the one I was attracted to the most.

The fourth and final investment to drop out of my portfolio was Leah, a sexually voracious predator. She took every opportunity offered, from random hook-ups on the street to co-workers and anything in between. She was married, but Leah's husband had lost interest in sex. Even if he were interested, Leah's appetites could not be satisfied by any one man. We had a regularly Tuesday liaison at a derelict building close to where we lived. Our surroundings' seediness complimented the action perfectly, which consisted of anal-only and, lately, golden showers. Saturday followed Tuesday and usually took place at my house, where the action was preceded by champagne and a spa.

On one of these Saturday sessions, things with Leah took a weird and disturbing turn that ultimately revealed her progress down a dark, self-destructive path. We were on my bed, and I had ploughed Leah's arsehole with my customary savageness. She could tell I was close to coming and ordered me to let loose on her face. Hers was not an unusual request because it was either a facial or an anal cream pie these days.

I pulled out of her gaping shitter, admired the perfectly round hole before getting into position. Leah rose on her haunches but remained on the bed, forcing me to my feet. The uneven surface of the bed left me a little unbalanced. I came hard and vocally, coating Leah's pretty face with boiling bolts of salty semen. She squealed in delight with every impact but seemed to be hamming it up more than usual.

My knees went weak when my orgasm subsided, and I collapsed on the bed, exhausted and satisfied. When I regarded my senses, I saw Leah still playing with my cum, rubbing into her cheekbones, massaging her tits which were good and all, but this little show was directed at the bedroom window.

Groggily, I turned my eyes and got the shock of my life. For a split second, I saw a face starring at us. It vanished instantly, as did the frosting from breath against the pane. Leah collapsed on the mattress.

"Shit!" I yelled, frantically rolling off the bed and searching for some clothes to put on, "Did you see that?"

Leah did not answer.

Hastily attired in t-shirt and boxer shorts, I scrambled for the front door and out on the deck. There was no-one by the window, no-one in the front garden and no-one on the street in either direction. I was yet to get around to installing front door sensor lights, so the only illumination came from the road. I completed a circuit of the house before returning inside to retrieve a torch. Leah was lying on the bed, seemingly unconcerned about a possible intruder.

Returning to the bedroom window, the torch revealed a disturbing scene. On the windowsill was a translucent fluid that was dripping onto the deck below. I knew what the substance was and immediately sussed the situation. A peeping Tom was present, Leah knew about him, and he evidently enjoyed the show.

"What just happened?" I boomed after walking back into the house.

Leah was in the bathroom, splashing water across her face and preparing for a shower.

"You knew about this?" I asked.

"Knew about what?" Answered Leah with an innocent glint in her eyes.

"About someone watching us," I stammered, "Wanking outside the window."

"I wasn't sure about that bit, but yeah, I knew he was there."

"Why didn't you say something?"

"You are kidding?" She said, "It was erotic as fuck!"

"A stranger, trespassing and watching us having sex?"

"Hell, yes!" Replied Leah about to enter the shower, "Don't fret, he wasn't a 'stranger'."

"What does that mean?" I asked, sitting on the toilet, my interest piqued and anger dispersing.

Leah sensed my changing demeanour and smiled at me as she soaped her shapely body.

"That was my husband."

"Your husband?" I asked, confused, "He's a pervert now?"

"He likes watching other men pleasure me."

"A cuck?" I could hardly credit it, "I thought he lost interest in sex?"

"A cuck, yes," Replied Leah as she ran her fingers across her freshly fucked arsehole, "And his interest in sex has been revived but not in a conventional way."

"He goes to peoples' houses, uninvited, and wanks on their bedroom windows?"

"Not exactly uninvited."

"Oh, so you invited him?" I sneered, "Without my consent?"

"I didn't think you'd agree, and I didn't expect he'd be stupid enough to get caught."

"His face was practically pressed against the glass, for fuck's sake!"

"Overzealous," She said, "Must have enjoyed the gape!"

Leah's tone and her responses indicated that she felt the incident was no big deal. After all, no harm came of the matter, except a total violation of my fucking privacy!

"Yeah, I bet that's when the filthy fucker painted my window."

Leah laughed at my laconic joke, relieved that I was not angry.

"Where is he then?" I asked.

"In the car, probably."

"I looked when I was outside, but there was no-one in your car."

"Perhaps he's hightailing it home on foot, scared witless at being discovered."

"It would have been nice if you'd asked me beforehand," I gently chided her, "How long has he been into this?"

"Couple of months," Leah replied, "He confronted me one day about my infidelities."

"How did he know?" I asked, intrigued.

"He was doing the laundry and discovered soiled panties," She said, turning off the taps, "Soiled with sperm."

"I guess he wasn't angry?"

"No, but I was expecting him to be," Leah said, stepping out of the shower and reaching for the towel, "It had the opposite effect."

"In what way?"

"He confessed that the thought of me getting diddled silly by other men got a rise out of him, for the first time in a while."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, he said he pulled his cock out, and the more he imagined what I was getting up to, the harder he got."

"So, he had a crafty wank?"

"Yep, when he smelled the gusset, he creamed the floor."

As Leah retold this tale, I suspected a lot more took place after that encounter.

"He said it was the best orgasm he can ever remember," She continued, drying herself with the towel, "But that was just the start of it."

"Your confession triggered a confession from him?"

"It sure did," Leah snorted, "In ways that blew my mind."

"Do go on," I encouraged, thoroughly interested now.

"He confessed that watching me with other men turned him on, but the real kicker was that he fantasised about eating a cream pie when I get home."

"A cuckold with a cum fetish, nice."

"Yeah, and I must admit that got my pulse racing too."

"Have you indulged his cum fetish?"

"I have."

"When did the peep shows begin?"

"About a month ago, not long after our mutual confessions."

"So," I began, trying to untangle this web of filth, "You invite him to your play dates, and he spies on you getting fucked by other men?"

"And women," Leah interjected, "But he prefers watching me with men."

"They come inside you," I said, trying to wrap my head around this scenario, "You hold it in before returning home with his 'gift'?"

"Essentially," She replied, "Before I fuck him with my strap-on. Then he climaxes."

"So, he has a pegging fetish too?"

"Indeed," Leah smiled, "Another confession was using my toys on himself to masturbate."

"Your sex life has revived?"

"Yes, and it's great," She replied, "It's a whole new and exciting side of him that I had no inkling of."

"You like it?"

"Oh, yeah. The power I wield over him is intoxicating."

"You're the dom, and he's the sub?"

"Only in the bedroom," Leah chuckled, "His masculinity is preserved outside of it, and what a man he is!"

Leah expressed pride and love in her husband, the father to her children.

"Does this mean a curtaining of your infidelities?"

"No fucking way!" Leah snorted, "It means approval to ramp it up so long as hubby's lusts are satisfied."

"Were there any other confessions?"

"Such as?"

"What about our venture into the golden arts?" I asked," Is he curious about being with a guy?"

"No for both questions," Leah chuckled.

"Fair enough."

"Unlike me, he forsakes all others."

"And places you second only to God?" Leah nodded at my question, "Wow, I'm impressed."

"He's a good man, and he's my man!"

There was a pause in the discussion, and Leah dressed.

"How many times has he watched us?"

"Twice, including tonight."

"When was the first?"

"A couple of Tuesdays ago." Leah confirmed, "He ate my anal cream pie afterwards for the first time."

"He was reluctant?" I asked.

"Yes, but he came harder than ever."

There the conversation about her husband's renewed but perverted interest in sex ended, and Leah shortly departed for home.

Tonight scared the living shit out of me, and the fact that he surreptitiously spied on me on previous occasions was unnerving. As a result, I was beginning to feel distinctly uncomfortable with our relationship.

My concerns were soon confirmed. Leah needed rougher and rougher action. Not only was she taking on more partners -- not all of whom were regulars -- and having intra-day sessions. She begged for fisting, for choking, for being spat on, for being verbally degraded, so-on-and-so-forth.

Hers was a dark place that I could not follow. My preference was for mutual respect in our sexual relations. Yeah, sure, I loved intensity and hardcore play, but what Leah needed and increasingly demanded was turning me off wanting to be with her.

****

Weeks later, Tuesday's session in the seedy rundown building was our final one, as it turned out. The previous Saturday, my phone pinged with an unexpected message from Paula.

"Hi Jason, guess what? I got my first PT customer today!"

"The first of many, I predict."

"Thank you for believing in me."

"I know you can do this."

"As a token of my appreciation, can I take you to dinner this weekend?"

If I accepted, and of course I would, a dinner date with Paula would be our first meeting in several weeks.

"I would be honoured," I answered, "What did you have in mind?"

"Haven't worked that out yet, LOL."

"Okay, let me know."

"Will do. Gotta go xx."

That was a positive development, and my soul received a much-needed boost. Paula was increasingly invading my thoughts while Leah was rapidly fading from them.

I waited at the Empire Bar in my usual booth for Leah to arrive. Even when Leah joined me at the bar for pre-anal drinks, the conversation between us was white noise since my thoughts always drifted back to Paula.

"Shall we go?" Asked Leah after draining her glass.

"Lead the way," I smiled nervously, getting hard, "Do we have company tonight?"

"No," Laughed Leah, "Hubby's at the gym."

"You certain about that?" I asked, shooting a questioning glance back at Leah.

"Relax, he won't be there," She reassured me, "Come now, my arse needs its weekly workout."

Moments later, we arrived and entered the building and ascended the second floor with practised ease. Over the time that Leah and I rendezvoused at this seedy locale, we noticed that underage drinking had increased, tagging had increased, and the building's use as a storage facility for shitty office equipment had increased. Now, there was a dirty table and a funky couch to fuck on. Leah and I took full advantage of both.

After disrobing and spending several minutes kissing without emotion, I ordered Leah to her knees as I rested against the table.

"Throat fuck me!"

Leah seemed to force all my meat down her throat, choking and coughing. She squeezed her nostrils shut and appeared to self-asphyxiate. This was the dark side of her that I did not like. It seemed that each time she did this act, Leah was somehow beating a personal best. However, I had a genuine concern about the wisdom of such an act but, because it felt and looked so good, was unable to prevent Leah's madness.

Then suddenly, her entire body shook, and she let out an enormously painful grunt that came from the pit of Leah's body. With a roar, she pulled back, releasing my cock and from her mouth erupted a deluge of semi-clear fluid that coated my abdomen, cock, balls and legs.

"What the fuck?" I exclaimed in horror at this new deviant act.

"I just came," Coughed Leah, wiping her mouth and smiling.

"You come from your mouth now?" I asked in a tone that was a mixture of shock and awe.

Leah did not answer but growled and took my cock back in her mouth. I surmised that oral fluid was essentially water and wine. The only time I have seen someone puke during sex was on a Max Hardcore scud video where several victims were encouraged to jam their hands down their throats are spew over Max's cock, but Leah's version' was somewhat different. There were no chunks, and it did not smell! Thank heaven for small mercies, I guess. Such behaviour solidified my decision to offload this degenerate creature.

"Time to fuck," I said, pulling her to her feet, after which I acknowledged the contents of Leah's stomach on the floor.

Directing Leah to the couch, I made her bend over, thrusting her arse in the air and readying her pucker for penetration. Reaching over, I grabbed her panties from the floor and stuffed them in her willingly slutty mouth before ramming my puke-smeared cock deep inside her sloppy cunt.

Leah growled gutturally with her soiled panties lodged firmly in down her throat during these few minutes of obligatory pussy action. She was hot, wet and ready to go as I slid my cock easily into her used hole.

"I'm gonna come," She whined, "I'm gonna come!"

The grunting and growling increased with muffled intensity before I felt Leah's cunt muscles tense up. A hand came from one side and pushed against my abdomen, forcing me from her pussy, while a second hand reached underneath and rubbed against her clit with furious intensity.

Simultaneously, a massive gush of translucent fluid erupted and sprayed across the rotting couch. Leah occasionally squirted in the past, but the volume of this gush exceeded all expectation. I tasted her squirt on occasion, and it had a lovely taste, not like piss at all, which is what I thought it was initially. Leah told me the process that differentiates piss from "squirt", but that went far over my primitive male brain.

With her pussy orgasm out of the way, I pressed the purple-raging head of my cock against Leah's spongey arsehole and pressed. She growled and grunted with the intensity of a wild animal as I forced my engorged cock inside my favourite hole. She yielded with practised ease, and within seconds I was balls deep inside her slutty dirt box.

Despite the need to offload this degenerate sexual demon, I would miss her arsehole, which took my cock inside with the least resistance. One of the reasons why Leah kept me around for so long was a confession that most of her male "toys" did not indulge in anal sex. Such an act was "weird" and "for fags", apparently.

Whatever! I had no such hang-ups and gleefully ploughed Leah's dirty hole with reckless abandon.

"Are you ready?" I asked after the fact.

"I'm ready," She winced.

"Ready for what?"

"Ready for an arse reaming!" She squealed through the muffle of her panties.

"Good girl," I said as I started pistoning my pole inside her backdoor, giving her O-ring little time to adjust.

"Yes, yes, yes!" She screeched, "Oh, God, dammit!"

I thrust away, plumbing new depths. About a minute into this torture, Leah demanded to taste my cock.

"Let me taste my arse!"

I felt her muscle throttle my cock as I eased my greasy shaft from her backdoor and leant against the back on the couch while Leah slid backwards, sliding across the puddle of female "squirt" and swallowed me whole.

"Fuck!" I gasped after feeling the back of Leah's throat.

After several full-length throat fucks, Leah told me my cock tasted of "a million dollars". She never shied away from administering enthusiastic and expletive-filled ATMs. Leah was the master of filthy X-rated sex but was staying into alarming territory.

We switched positions with Leah reverse-cowgirling me. I sat in her puddle while she straddled my legs and stuffed my cock easily back inside her shitter before bouncing up and down aggressively.

"Fucking yes," She growled, "That's it, ream my arse!"

I shuffled down the dirty couch a little and was able to thrust that much deeper inside her arsehole and this set of her first anal orgasm.

"Fuck my dirt box," She panted, "Plough my fucking dirt locker!"

Leah possessed quite the imaginative library of colourful metaphors when it came to anal sex. I think it helped her build up her assgasms, which she confessed she preferred to vaginal climaxes.

"Yeah, here it fucking comes," Screamed Leah, "Fuck it out of me!"

Seconds later, she ejected my cock and, with a deep grunt, expelled another gush of "squirt" on the dirty floor of this derelict office building.

"Fuck, yes," She exclaimed while smacking her cunt, "Stuff my arse!"

I eased back inside her hot, dirty hole and continued to work it hard. The building smelled of sex and was filled with Leah's growls, moans and filthy language and the sound of wet flesh slapping together. Anybody walking their dog outside would have heard this strange cacophony of animalistic expression.

Leah squirted several more times in this position before we swapped to the missionary anal position. In the dim light of evening, I could see fluid dripping across both of her thighs and matting the tuft of pubic hair above her clit.