The Dirty and the Dirtiest Pt. 04

We sat, dripping wet on the catch, drinking the last wine and staring into the blackened void beyond.

"You got the energy for another round?" Amanda eventually asked, breaking a comfortable silence.

"Maybe; why?" I asked with some anticipation.

"Well," She snuggled up to me, "I want to try anal fisting."

"Really?"

Amanda laughed at my dumbfounded expression, but her eyes twinkled, and she nodded assent.

"I've never done it before," I said with some animation after putting my empty glass down, "So, you'll have to guide me."

"I've never had a man's hand back there, but I really want to try."

"Okay, so what do we do?"

"We will need this now," Laughed Amanda after she handed me the tub of Vaseline.

"Is there enough?"

"We'll soon find out!"

We both chuckled, and Amanda quickly assumed the doggy position and spread an arse cheek revealing a swollen arsehole and reddened pussy.

I opened the Vaseline, scooped up a generous amount with two fingers, and applied the grease liberally across the hole and inside.

"Shit, that's cold," Amanda hissed at the first application.

"Are you ready?" I asked when I thought there was sufficient lubrication.

"Yeah, go for it but take it slow."

Inserting two fingers was easy following the epic buggering that occurred earlier, but with the addition of a third, space started to run out quickly.

"Fuck, it's tight!" I repeatedly exclaimed as I attempted to coax a wider opening.

Amanda was groaning, out of her mind, enjoying the experience. Eventually, I managed three fingers up to the knuckles, but no further.

"Three fingers, babe," I said tentatively.

"More," Came Amanda's assured reply, "Feels so good!"

Okay, I thought to myself, unsure how this would turn out. I tucked my little finger underneath the ring finger and attempted to insert four fingers inside Amanda's shitter.

"Oh, shit, yeah, do it!" She encouraged.

Her bung would not expand enough to go beyond the ridge of knuckled, and no amount of additional lubrication would change that fact. Adding the thumb was out of the question.

"You shall not pass!" This was the message Amanda's dirty hole was trying to tell me.

"It's no good, babe," I surrendered, "Your arse will not accept my hand."

"Let's see if I can do it," Amanda signed in frustration, "Lube me up."

I smeared what was left of the tub of Vaseline across her proffered hand. Amanda screwed her hand together, thumb included, and began probing her abused rosette.

She was lost in heaven, on a mission, and slowly but surely, her hand was swallowed up by her exhaust port. There was an audible gasp when the knuckle ridge crossed the threshold.

"Fuck!" Yelled Amanda as her body buckled.

It was a remarkable sight, and after wiping my greasy hand on the blanket, I picked up the phone and began recording Amanda's self-fisting display of animal eroticism.

"Oh, I'm going to come!" She shrieked suddenly, as if not expecting so sudden an orgasm.

Amanda's pussy lips parted, and a violent stream of fluid was expelled, pooling and dissipating all over the couch. Her body thrashed, and her screams unfettered; this was Amanda's strongest orgasm of the night.

With Amanda's hand firmly embedded in her dirty hole, she went limp before laughing maniacally during the post-climax blues.

"Fist my pussy!" She ordered out of nowhere.

I spat on her puffy lips and rubbed in the saliva, making her cunt as wet as possible. Screwing up my fingers, I attempted to enter, but penetration was difficult with such a large object in the rear entrance.

Suddenly, Amanda withdrew her fist to reveal a large, gaping hole. With four fingers, she jammed them back into her poop chute and pulled upwards to elongate the gape to comic proportions. Abruptly, her cunt gave way, and my fist burst through, to our mutual surprise.

Continuing to film this unnatural filth, I captured the moment the membrane separating the front from the back doors rose and fell as I mercilessly fisted Amanda's cunt, for the second time that night.

The sight made my flagging penis rise.

"That feels amazing," Sighed Amanda, answering my question, "Do you like what you see?"

"I've never seen anything like this," I said as I punched her pussy.

"Make that fucking pussy come!"

I continued fisting, and Amanda began to squeal with increasing frequency, and when she climaxed, her powerful cunt muscles expelled my hand.

"Keep that gape happening, babe," I said hurriedly, "I have something for you."

I rose, phone in hand, recording shakily, and positioned my semi-hard cock against such an unnatural hole and let go. Hot yellow fluid flew out of my Jap's eye and quickly filled Amanda's rectum.

"Fuck!" She exclaimed, "What are you doing?"

"Filling you up with piss, babe!" I sneered, "Like we used to do."

"That was a long time ago."

"Yeah, well, you know how to take it and what to do next."

When my stream fizzled out, I ordered Amanda to close her arsehole. Given the abuse it had just endured, this was easier said than done and much urine leaked onto the couch. I positioned her so that her arse faced the rain-sodden garden. As before, I straddled her and focused the camera on her O-ring.

"Can I go now, please," Amanda pleaded, "The pressure is unbearable!"

"Go for it!"

Before I assented, a massive arc of yellow pee exploded across the patio to land in the darkness beyond.

"Oh, fuck!" Amanda gasped, the pressure alleviating, "Here comes more."

Amanda grunted and gyrated as she struggled to expel her piss-filled bowels. Then something unexpected happened. The first and only time that I have experienced an anal prolapse.

On the last thrust, Amanda forced all her muscles, and her arsehole turned inside out. A mass of pink tissue burst out and formed, resembling the shape of a rose. Its dark centre briefly dribbled a wicked brew of bodily fluids before disappearing as quickly as it appeared. I showed Amanda the footage, and we both marvelled at the phenomenon. It was another first for us, but I have seen more prolapse seep into extreme porn since that evening.

"I can't come anymore," Signed a visibly exhausted Amanda, "But it looks like you have one more inside you."

Amanda smiled at me as she sat on the couch, eyes glazed over but willing to go the distance with me. The anal fisting, the self-fisting, the pussy fisting and the prolapse had driven me to a new state of arousal.

"Come on my face!"

"Film it," I said, handing Amanda the phone.

Wanking off and achieving a third orgasm was easier when Amanda summoned the strength to tongue my empty ball bag and my taint. What tipped me over the edge, then as it does now, was when Amanda's tongue lapped at my sensitive ring. As soon as that happened, an orgasm was guaranteed.

With a shaking leg and sweat pouring down my quivering body, I stroked away from climaxing.

"Here it comes!" I hissed.

"Oh, yeah," Amanda encouraged, "Give it to me!"

"Shit!" I yelled as I unleashed translucent jism across Amanda's flushed face and tongue.

While strong, this last orgasm was short-lived, even by my standards. As soon as I let go of my battered shaft, Amanda moved in and gently massaged the head of my cock with her soft lips. This action elicited darts of secondary pleasure that caused me to whimper and spasm.

Amanda began chuckling at my stupefied expression when I opened my eyes. Her face was plastered with hot man seed, most of it dripping off her chin and onto her heaving breasts.

"Let me film this," I said, "Beautiful!"

Amanda began scooping up the cum with a finger and directed the fluid into her mouth. She then began to play with it, mixing it with saliva and squeezing it through her teeth.

"Dribble it on your tits," I said.

Amanda parted her lips and slowly allowed the noxious mix of fluids to roll off her chin and onto her breasts which she had pressed together. This went on for a minute or two, and once her mouth emptied, she began massaging the goo across her erect nipples and boob flesh.

"Fuck, that's hot!" I said, recording this lewd act for posterity.

Amanda giggled in return but continued playing up for the camera.

"You fancy being hosed down?" I asked, knowing the answer.

"Oh, yes, please," Amanda replied gleefully, "Over my tits."

She pushed the flesh together and craned forward so my semi-tumescent cock was level. This time, I had no trouble letting go of a hot stream of piss. Amanda squealed with delight, and the flow washed across her wobbly boobs.

"Fuck, you've got a lot stored up," She laughed.

By now, I was using my abdominal muscles to squeeze every drop from my bladder, grunting and groaning with every exertion.

"Shit, man!" I heaved.

When the flow began to slacken, Amanda took my floppy hose and directed the flow to her mouth and greedily swallowed down my steaming piss.

"Yummy!"

I was soon drained, and Amanda took my cock in her mouth and began sucking earnestly, but while the mind was willing, I doubted any strength remained in the flesh. Crashing on the couch, I wiped the sweat from my brow, incredibly pleased with the night's dirty antics.

"I need to go now," Amanda announced.

As spent as I was, I would not pass up an opportunity to watch, and film Amanda take a piss. I sat up and perched on the edge of the couch, motioned Amanda into my lap and spread her legs.

"Here, take the phone and record it."

"You filthy fucker," She chuckled.

For a minute, a strong stream erupted from her battered pussy, and arced high in the air before pooling on the concrete like before. As it ended, Amanda's body suddenly shuddered, and she let escape an audible sigh.

"Did you come?"

"Yes," She tittered, "Was that wrong?"

"You're insatiable!"

"Maybe, but I'm done for now."

"Same."

It was late, and we had been playing together for hours. I felt the pressing need for sleep, so we tidied up and showered together. In bed, I spooned Amanda until a welcome respite took me away.

We woke up around 10 AM, and I felt the effects of sleep deprivation and alcohol but was fully satisfied with our filthy antics.

"Can I treat you to brunch before I go?" I asked when we had showered and dressed.

"Oh, that'd be great," Amanda chimed after checking her watch, "I know a tasty café in the village."

A short time later, we were seated outside Miss Pryor's Café, bathed in glorious sunshine and enjoying more delicious food.

I knew the trains to Melbourne departed every hour, and one rumbled out of the station as we ate, looking at each other with a mixture of love and regret.

"Are you sore today?" I asked cheekily.

Amanda thought for a second before replying in the affirmative.

"Both holes?"

"My pussy is definitely feeling it," Amanda smiled, "But my arse is feeling pretty good, all things considered."

"You took that punishment like a champ."

"It was so worth it," She grinned, "But I don't think I'll be doing that for a while."

Nor would I. After last night, I had nothing left in the tank, and I wondered if I could get it up later for Tracy.

"You well and truly drained me!" I said, smiling from ear to ear.

"A night to remember?"

A smiled ruefully, suppressing another tinge of disappointment.

After our mid-morning breakfast, I walked Amanda home. After hugging, kissing, and hugging some more, we finally said our farewells, and I promised to return to Melbourne at the first available moment.

I felt curiously empty as I made my way to the train station. My time with Amanda was enjoyable, and I felt something for her while in her company. There was certainly a lot more to Amanda than her healthy and imaginative sexual positivity, that I found intriguing. Lamenting a possible missed opportunity, at least we had reconnected and enjoyed some intensely physical and dirty encounters.

As the train rattled towards Melbourne, I received two text messages in quick succession. The first was from Amanda and was accompanied by a short video.

"Know that I am thinking about you," She tapped before the shaky camera displayed her raw pussy lips parted, and a strong stream of hot piss shot into the toilet bowl. Amanda giggled as she drained her bladder for my voyeuristic pleasure.

That thoughtful gift caused a stir in my shorts. Hope for later today with Tracy or should I turn around and convince Amanda for one last fumble? I seriously thought about that latter possibility.

The second message came from Tracy. Oddly enough, with Amanda's voluptuous body fresh in my mind, I felt no enthusiasm to meet Tracy. I could not deny the reality that I was sexed out.

Still, it would be rude to stand her up as she was my property manager, which required a mutually workable rapport.

Luckily enough, Tracy showed no inclination to engage in any sexual activity. We met for a couple of drinks in the CBD, and as she had to work the next day (like I did when I flew back to Sydney), Tracy did not want a late evening.

After hugging goodbye at Flinders Street Station with a mutual peck on the lips, I strolled across the road to Young & Jacksons and, over a pint, reflected on a sexually successful trip to Melbourne. All memories of the conference, my raison d'etre for being in that city in the first place, were quickly forgotten.