The Sex Lives of KinkyMira and Friends

Kinky and filthy things that have happened to us, all explicitly told

Author: KinkyMira (Page 1 of 31)

The Look In Her Eyes (Part One)

7 December 2025 / / 0 Comments

When I left university, I was totally bereft at leaving Melissa. I was heartbroken, as I felt this was the first time I was properly in love, and yes, it was with a woman. I couldn’t tell many people why I was so down as it may well have made it back to my mother, and that would not have been good. Her daughter being a dyke – I’d have never heard the end of it. So, I had to suffer alone and in silence.

But there was one person that noticed. I had been friendly with her at college and had fond memories of getting drunk in fields of a Saturday afternoon, or in the local woods on a Friday. In fact, most of my memories with her to that point involved getting pissed. But they were all good memories.

Her name was Lisa and she contrived a way to get me away from the group. When she said what she had observed, I burst into tears and spilled my guts, all of it, the sex, the pissing, the obscene outfits, the bungee runs, and yes, the love. I was too emotional and heartbroken to see the look in her eyes at the time, but she hugged me and comforted me and did her best to calm me. Given I wasn’t really that close to her, it was astounding.

And she stayed my counsel for a few weeks, just helping me to move on. She was a fabulous friend.

And then, one day, I actually saw the look in her eyes, and it confused me, because that look wasn’t friendship or concern. I’d seen it before. That look was love. Lisa had a look of love in her eyes.

Now this was particularly confusing, as I had a bit of a thing for Lisa about three years previously. I think this was before either of us realised we were interested in women. But I admired her as a free spirit – she was everything I wanted to be, and I was a fair bit in love with her. There was a time when I really wanted to snog her, but I didn’t even think she noticed me.

But that look didn’t come out of nowhere. I realised that she had it in her eyes that first evening after I got back. Did that mean she loved me a bit from before I went to university? You can see why I was confused.

And now, what did I do about it? Because I knew she was leaving soon too. For the other side of the world and a new life. Whatever this was, it wasn’t about to be long term.

But the train of thought did briefly snap my brain out of its Melissa-induced slump. Lisa’s departure was still a few months away yet, and there was plenty of time for some fun. I still wanted to kiss her – I always had and now she had worked out she was only into women, and she was single. And the big difference was, thanks to everything Melissa and I learned together, I knew how to fuck a woman, knew how to give her proper hard orgasms. But even more importantly, there is a chance to create a bond before she goes away.

Lisa had no idea what was in my head. She just stroked my hair as she had often done over the last few weeks, trying to be comforting. It gave me a short time to think. I spent part of last year regretting not doing anything with Lisa (before Melissa came along) – I wasn’t about to spend time later regretting not doing something with Lisa before she switched continents.

So, when she stopped stroking my hair and was looking at me with kind and loving eyes, I just leaned in and very gently kissed her lips, almost the lightest touch I could manage. As I leant back, I could almost see the fear in her eyes, but I reassured her that I had wanted to do that for three years and that, despite how I’d been feeling of late, I knew what I was doing.

She weighed it up briefly, but she leaned in and kissed me, a proper kiss and in a matter of moments, our tongues slipped between our lips and touched for the first time. I felt her hands on my body as she pulled me closer, and I grabbed on to her. And we just kissed and kissed. For ages. Clothed tits squashing against each other.

After we broke the kiss, we sat opposite each other and just looked at each other and held hands. It was almost as if we couldn’t work out what to do next. We clearly both had the same idea, as when we let go of each other’s hands, they clashed on the way to each other’s blouse buttons. That was the laugh we needed to take away the tension. We just took our own blouses and bras off, and then returned to kissing each other, this time, our bare tits squashing against each other. Her tits weren’t small either, so there was plenty to squash, and neither of us was in any rush to break off our kissing.

But, eventually. break off we did, as I became acutely aware that I didn’t want to wear my tongue out jousting with hers. I had plans that I needed my tongue for. But Lisa had plans too, and leant in towards me, grabbing a tit in each hand and starting to work on my nipples, kissing, sucking, licking, and nibbling on them, swapping between them at will. It just felt amazing having her working my tits. I wanted to do the same to hers, but I didn’t want her to stop.

But eventually she did, and she straightened up to kiss me, leaving my very wet nipples to the cold air, making them go immediately hard. She saw and smiled.

I was smiling too, because from somewhere in the depths of my memory, I pulled out some gold about Lisa that she had said in some drunken truth or dare type game. She had said that if her nipples get pulled and twisted quite viciously, she orgasms much harder than without. Given I wanted to make her really want to do this, to make her want to fuck me over and over, I decided to test her out.

So, I leant in to kiss her a little, before bending over to start sucking one of her nipples, only without warning, I pulled and twisted at the nipple I wasn’t licking and sucking. I heard her breathing get harder as I twisted that little bit harder. Her nipples were loving it, getting so hard so quickly and the soft cooing noises she was making showed she liked it too. I knew I’d have her cumming in no time, but I had to be patient to build her up to a massive orgasm.

After a decent time of sucking and switching, I released whatever nipple that was in my mouth and grabbed both each with a thumb and forefinger and twisted them quite viciously in opposite directions. Her body arched towards me; her nipples were so large. I twisted them back to their proper position, then viciously twisted them the other way, making her body arch again.

I started rolling her nipples between my fingers, squeezing them to flatten them as I did so, and I leant in, briefly kissed her, and then whispered in her ear “Get me access to that cunt.”

What Have I Done?

26 November 2025 / / 5 Comments

Here I was naked, kneeling on a mattress on the floor, looking round at eight naked men standing round me like the points of a compass, cocks showing signs of life but being untouched.

My husband said later that I looked slightly scared, and to be honest, I was. Because I remembered what I had said, I remembered what I told my husband about one of my last unfulfilled fantasies. I remembered telling my husband I wanted to be that gang-bang girl, the one in the middle of a mass of men, the one that wouldn’t stop being fucked until all the cocks were finished, the one that would be made to cry because of the relentless action with no respite, the one that all the men would just use without mercy and without giving even a seconds thought for her.

I had my favourite porn video, one where a fluffer got the men ready (to keep up the pace of fucking the gang-bang girl), one with a mascara-streaked face (as was my current fetish), one where she started off quite active and ended up broken, limp, being moved and fucked by them. I guess it was my favourite because I knew that’s how I’d end up, this crap body not having the stamina to carry on actively.

And my husband had only gone and organised it. My big mouth had got me into trouble again. He tried to organise my dream gang-bang for my birthday, but the nine diaries didn’t align, but they did last week, perfectly timed to be a celebration of my 150th blog post.

The eight men were the free-use men (my husband, Anna’s, Rose’s and Tanya’s), my ex-boss (who fucks me fairly regularly anyway), Sara’s husband, Laura’s ex-husband (from our earlier days watching other couples) and my favourite customer (one who keeps coming back to me, mostly to fuck I think, but I do also improve his business).

The fluffer was Anna, who my husband said had made clear that she’d want to be the gang-bang girl at some point in the future. This time, Anna wasn’t to be touched or touch herself, her cunt was to be left aching and unsatisfied, her ass and tits ungroped. She could only use her hands and mouth in her role as fluffer, and she would have her work cut out, with eight cocks to deal with.

The recorder was Paula, documenting exactly what happened to me, for our personal record. Someone had to document it, and like Anna, Paula too wasn’t allowed to touch herself or be touched, her cunt, ass and tits all unused.

Until afterwards. My husband had agreed that Anna and Paula could fuck each other afterwards, in front of all the spent men. And I think the women would need it. The titillation, the smell of sex, my orgasms, the men’s cum, would all be like a mega edging session for them, and out of kindness, my husband agreed they would be each other’s relief, but only after the gang-bang was finished, and only in full view of the eight men. Paula and Anna would have a long wait.

So, with me looking slightly scared, my husband reminded me of the rules, my rules, the ones I told him:

The men do as they want. All three of my holes, my tits and ass cheeks, whatever they like, however they like. They don’t ask, they just move me and do what they want. They aren’t interested in my orgasms, just theirs.

Anna is fluffer and keeper of the lube, which she will apply as necessary. I can’t ask for lube, or anything else for that matter. And the only drink I can have is piss straight from Anna or Paula. As their cunts couldn’t be touched, this amounted to them pissing on my face and me opening my mouth in the desperate hope of catching some of it. The only food I could have is globules of male cum. If Anna thinks I haven’t orgasmed enough, she’s allowed to work my clit until I do, but again, I can’t ask, she just does.

I am nothing. They won’t stop until all eight cocks are spent, no more cum to extract, no more hardness to be had. Once they start, nothing can stop them, no one can stop them. All I have to do to start my dream gang-bang is to lean forward, pick up a cock and gently kiss the tip. Everyone was still, perfectly silent, apart from Anna and Paula who were drinking water, loading their bladders to be my drinks fountains.

I was a little scared as to what I had done. This was totally my fault. My big mouth. But I think everyone in that room knew that eventually, I’d kiss a glans, that I’d take the onslaught, that I’d be that gang-bang girl and that I’d love every second of it.

There was absolutely no point in delaying it, so with a deep breath, I leant forward towards my husband in front of me, picked up his cock and kissed his glans. As I did so, he ran his hand through my hair and called me a “Good Girl”. That always gets me horny and makes me feel proud. Then I felt someone grabs my tits, as my husband pushed his limp but hardening cock into my mouth, and within moments, my body was moved and I could hear Anna giving a hand job to a couple of cocks, one of which soon penetrated my cunt, and one my asshole, but only after Anna had lubed it up. My husband carried on stroking my hair as I sucked on his cock, his smile broad, his eyes loving, but distracted with what was happening to my lower half.

Within a minute, all three holes were filled, my tits were being groped, and my body was merely reacting to the thrusts it was feeling. The gentleness of the stroke of my hair was contrasted with the slamming of cocks into my cunt and ass, the soothing tones of him saying what a good girl I was and how I was going to take every drop of cum these eight stallions had contrasted with the mauling of my tits and the twisting of my nipples, my mouth filled with his hardening cock, my cunt and asshole alternating between being very full and being very empty. And this was only the start.

Other than my husband in front of me, his cock in my mouth and his hand ruffling my hair, I had no idea who was doing what to me, and soon, I even lost track of my husband, the daze of interaction, five or six points of sexual contact at a time, put me almost in a dream world, both knowing what was happening to my body, and not knowing. That dreamy feeling, interrupted by orgasms that were strong but ignored by the men, interrupted by piss on my face when Anna realised my mouth was dry, interrupted by squirts of lube into my asshole, interrupted by the pain of my nipples or clit being twisted, I was just riding cocks over and over.

This isn’t going to be a blow-by-blow account of what was done to me. Paula did make the notes for that, but I haven’t read them yet. I will do, at some point. But at the moment, I’m revelling in the memories. I can’t tell you how much cum I swallowed or had in my cunt or asshole. The groping never stopped too, my tits in particularly being heavily mauled. I remember having a brief respite while my ass was spanked (exactly 150 strikes with various implements apparently, honouring the blog post count). I remember cum drying on my tits, causing that tightening of the skin. I remember crying not through pain but through being overwhelmed with emotion and sensory input. I remember half of me wanting them to stop, hoping they would stop, but not asking them to stop, as the other half of me really didn’t want them to stop. I remember being totally broken, having no strength at all even to hold my arms up, but still being used on and on anyway.

But above all, I remember the elation at actually being that cum dumpster, that gang-bang girl I always wanted to be, and it was everything I hoped for and more. I have no idea how long the men went on for. Felt like weeks, it was relentless and all consuming. But they did me proud.

And I did them proud. As they put me to bed in the cum streaked, piss covered, mascara run mess that I was, I had completed the task. They were all spent. There was no more cum to be had, no more hardness to use. I’d done it.

And despite what I thought might happen, I felt every stroke, every grab, every squeeze, every throb. I thought I might become desensitised to it all, but I didn’t. I felt everything, I felt alive, I felt so very used, I felt amazing.

He left me to sleep in the morning, and as I awoke, I knew I’d been gang-banged. My jaw was aching, my tits were tender, my asshole was sore and my cunt was messy and oozing cum. And I still felt amazing, still on a massive high. He told me how beautiful I looked in this state, whilst he stroked my hair and cuddled me. I felt so loved, and as he reminded me that he’d shortly be giving me my morning sodomy session, he asked me whether I wanted to be that gang-bang girl again? I nodded  and smiled broadly. Still stroking my hair, he said “Good Girl”, before suggesting he’d need to find a couple of more men, as I wasn’t totally used up this time. Wow, that would make even more of a mess of me than I was this time, and I guessed that was what he wanted. I snuggled into him, enjoying the warmth of his embrace, happy to take ten cocks next time if he wanted me to.

We’re Not Done With Panties Just Yet

16 November 2025 / / 1 Comment

As you all know by now, I don’t wear panties any more, and when we made the decision to ditch them completely, my husband disappeared them, only occasionally bringing a pair out for a cunt stuffing session, where a pair of my old panties was shoved up my cunt and I was brutally and relentlessly masturbated until I came on them numerous times. Taking a pair of panties, feeding them into my willing cunt and then making me orgasm over and over onto them, is amazingly sexy. It is one of those acts where he holds my body whilst he makes me cum, loving but unrelenting.

Once he was happy with how coated with my sticky juices they were, he fished them out of my cunt and then he normally found something else to do with them, often using them as a gag (and indeed a couple of months ago, he had me buy a really rather large ball gag as an option to hold them in place), or he’d get me to use my slick panties to tie my hair up. Many years ago, a famous radio star spoke of using her panties to tie her hair up, and my husband always remembered it. The bit about the panties being covered in our juices was all his own idea, so we sometimes go for a walk with my hair tied up with juicy panties and therefore smelling slightly of sex.

The other thing he would do is put my slick fragrant panties in a clip and seal plastic bag, and I never saw them again. What I didn’t know at the time he was cunt stuffing with my old panties was that he was selling them online, fragrant girl cum covered panties sealed in a bag to keep in the aroma. He made a fortune, every penny of which was invested in our sex room and other fucking facilities in our home.

My panties were all fairly old when he locked them away. I hadn’t bought new panties for years, as I was drifting towards wearing them less over a number of years. He sold all but three pairs, the pair he took off me the first time we fucked (the signed ones) and his two favourite pairs, a crotchless pair and the tiniest thong I ever owned. I know where my first pair is – in the display case in our bedroom with the signed first pairs from every woman he fucked ever. The other two have both been used for cunt stuffing, but both are still in his possession, under lock and key somewhere.

As first Victoria and then Laura became pantyless, he did the same with their old panties, locking away and then selling most of them after being covered in cum in a cunt stuffing (keeping only their firsts with him and the pairs from each that he really liked), and he has started on Anna’s now too.

But for the first time in years, we’re thinking of buying some panties. Relax, they aren’t for me, Vicki or Laura; our pantyless status is safe, and whilst not being quite panty free yet, Anna isn’t buying any more either now.

No, these are for my husband. You see, even though I’ve been with him for well over twelve years now, I only found out over the summer that he wants a pair of thigh high boots for him. He’s bought me a couple of pairs (one black leather, one black shiny PVC) and he loves them on me (as do I), but he really wants a pair or two himself. I think he has one eye on a particular annual social event in April. He already has a fabulous frilly shirt and he’s always wanted something for his lower half to match up with how amazing the shirt looks.

Armed with the fact that he wants some long thigh high boots, we’ve been brainstorming a bit as to how to marry up the two halves of the outfit. I really don’t like the aesthetic of jeans under boots. To be honest, I prefer the boots to be somewhat tighter than would allow for anything much to be tucked into them. I do love the look of having a little bit of uncovered leg above the top of boots emphasising a flat top rim of the boots, so to have them on show that little bit leg above, there is really only one way to go, and that is a miniskirt. I have a number to choose from, and they look fabulous (although they are somewhat daring with no panties, but I have no choice but to risk it).

He wasn’t bothered how I wore the boots until he saw me in my miniskirt wearing, leg showing, cunt flash jeopardy best, and now he won’t let me wear them any other way.

But what would he wear with his long thigh high boots? The issue is that in my brain, I had the most perfect outfit for him, and that was a long black leather coat, his white frilly shirt, black leather miniskirt and black leather boots. I think he’d look amazing, but I wasn’t sure he’d go for the miniskirt. He’s not really into cross-dressing, although he has talked for the longest time about having a short skirt to wear at home. He wanted a skirt that his cock hung down from, for use at home with a lady just being able to grab his cock and work it as she wanted or as he instructed.

Vicki had already given him a kilt related to her family, so I knew he loved the kilt no underwear vibe. However, the length of boots I was thinking (and the gap for leg) would mean he would need such a short skirt that he would need to keep his cock safely tucked out of the way, as I may be able to (and do) get away with the odd cunt flash in public, but he definitely couldn’t with his cock: that’s instant arrest territory. We’re not going there.

So, I began looking at panties designed for men for under his miniskirt, that would keep his cock and balls firmly hidden and held firmly in place. What I found was fabulous. A silk thong, with the rear being a narrow strip that will show his ass cheeks off perfectly. The front however is the brilliant part. There is a silk pouch that holds his cock vertically and out of sight, and some shaped silk to hold his balls in place and out of sight. Both sexy and secure.

He thought they were sexy too, so I bought him a shocking pink pair, and he has been trying them around the house, and they do indeed keep his cock and balls supported and out of sight all day. He loves them. He’s actually thinking they might be good for work in the hot weather.

And with those, he’s actually bought into the whole miniskirt outfit. We have the leather coat already, and I’ve ordered a black leather miniskirt. He’ll be utterly irresistible in that outfit, so I can’t wait to get all the bits in place. And you will see his shocking pink panties under the miniskirt, and I think he loves that. He did muse about black to blend in, but given he likes me to wear bras you can see the colour of under my clothes, he thought it would be hypocritical for him to not wear the shocking pink ones.

I have to admit though that I have been dreaming for ages about him walking round our house in panties, proper women’s panties. He walks round our place a lot in his men’s thongs, primarily because of their effect on me. He’d happily be naked, but I don’t find a flaccid cock to be nice to look at and his ass looks so lovely framed in a nicely fitting thong. I’m quite lucky that the design of thong he likes makes his package bulge and his ass look really peachy, so him wearing those increases my chance of needing a fuck – something he is always happy to encourage.

So, I really wanted to add some proper women’s panties into the mix too, and I’ll be honest in saying I have no idea why, but I get incredibly hot just thinking about that. We have a friend who cross-dresses for a living, and he has talked quite openly about wearing women’s panties (i.e. ones not designed with cock room) and the struggle to keep his cock in place. I quite fancy my husband having that struggle, and I know his cock wouldn’t be flaccid if he was having that struggle and was parading round in panties for me, or indeed if he was wearing them out. Although I also know that if I enjoy his struggle, I’d probably be made to have some sort of sexual struggle myself. I consider it a small price to pay.

I naturally began looking at thongs, but I was looking for any suitable panties that excited me. Now as you may know, I hate lace. I hated lace on my panties when I wore them, I hate lace on bras, and I’m not about to buy panties for my husband that have lace on them. I’m buying them for my viewing pleasure and I’m not going to ruin the view by having lace. Not liking lace is my one clothing choice he’s never challenged – I’m not sure he likes it much too. Whilst many men like their women in sexy lingerie, he’d much rather have me topless, tiny skirt and stockings and suspenders, and I’m so happy with that, it is so much more me.

Anyway, back to the panties, and firstly, I found some open-backed panties. They are black mesh briefs with a wide open rear, meaning there is an egg shaped panel missing from the rear of the panties (from the waistband to the perineum) over his ass crack, meaning his ass crack is permanently on display; with these, there is no way for the gap to close. I realised how excited I would get pegging him through open-backed panties, and even playing with a butt plug through the gap. Also, because these are women’s panties, the struggle to keep his cock enclosed would be on.

Secondly, I found a set of shocking pink low-rise silk panties that are crotchless right from waistband to waistband. I know that means his cock and balls will likely hang straight out of them, but I suspect he will not be flaccid when he is put in them, so that will be OK. I’m finding the thoughts of him fucking me while he was wearing his crotchless panties to be really exciting.

Finally, I found a shocking pink silk thong, similar to the one for use with the miniskirt, only these are a women’s thong, so the cock struggle is on with these too.

I luckily found some suppliers who were prepared to answer my sizing questions, and we got the sizes sorted based on the physical size of his best fitting male thong.

It is safe to say that pegging him through the open-backed and crotchless panties is just so incredibly sexy. It is that next notch of role-reversal, being sodomised wearing proper girly exposing panties. The other women love it too, and the trash talk we’ve all come out with is pure unleashed filth, all of which adds to our collective excitement.

I don’t quite know why I’m getting so excited by all this, but I am. (Then again, why do I get excited about half the things I do sexually?) He’s worn them all for me now, he’s been pegged in them all now, he’s fucked me in them all now and they look amazing, and my horniness level instantly goes up a notch. So, whilst I’m not wearing panties, my husband sometimes is, and we both love it.

And once we get the miniskirt, when my husband attends that event in April, I’ve decided his outfit would be perfectly finished off by having his hair tied up with a pair of our panties, fresh from cunt stuffing and covered in girl cum, probably from more than one of us. That would go down well. It’s that kind of event.

Relentlessly Cumming Carla (Part Three)

6 November 2025 / / 0 Comments

Carla was cumming hard, a vigorous anal cowgirl fuck, together with my finger brushing her clit with every stroke, made her cum again. Carla had cum a lot this night, and in my evil genius brain, she was to cum more. I’d cum more than her last night, so it was my chance to repay her.

Once she had finished cumming, she slumped in my arms, the dildo popping out of her ass and resting in her ass crack. She was really out of breath and needed to recover. She’d need all her remaining energy for what I had planned.

Still wearing the strap-on, I set up the fucking machine, this time to work horizontally. I had the same two dildos, arranged so she would be on her hands and knees in a doggy type position and fucked by the machine in both cunt and ass. To keep her in position, I put myself by her face and filled her mouth with the dildo, fresh from her own asshole. Turning the machine on, her body was doing small swings, enough to snap her tits backwards and forwards, enough to be face fucked by the strap-on, enough to be fucked by the moving finger and thumb dildo in her cunt and the static one in her asshole (although it did feel like it was moving as her body was moving and it wasn’t).

And there she stayed, being fucked three ways, with me slowly increasing the speed of the fucking machine. As she did to me, I stroked her hair, as if to comfort her and distract from the ever present pounding, and I really upped my filth talking game, telling her what a filthy slut she was to have a dirty dildo in her mouth, and dildos in her cunt and ass that hadn’t been cleaned from being in my cunt and ass, telling her that was properly dirty and how only a really nasty dirty girl would do such a thing. It was those words that seemed to start her cumming again, and I used the remote control to up the pace a little. She must have been tiring by now, her tits must have been getting painful from all the swinging by now, her asshole must be getting sore from all the penetration by now, and yet she kept going, like a good slut would. God I loved her.

As she tipped over to another orgasm, I increased the speed again, and found myself thinking about Rose. She was ovulating, horny as fuck and needed a rampant cock, and I just knew my husband would deliver, just as I was delivering on my promise to be brutal to Carla, particularly her asshole and those poor swinging tits.

And every time I spoke filth and verbally denied her an orgasm, she came almost instantly, such was her frenzy, such was the power of my voice. I lost track of how many times the poor girl came, but it was a lot. Eventually, I took pity on her and turned the machine off, removing the dildo from her mouth and pulling her off the machine’s dildos, and slumping with her on the nearby sofa, cuddling her, making her feel loved as well as fucked.

When she recovered a little, she leant in to kiss me, a slightly ass tasting kiss borne of love.

We didn’t make it up to bed that night, we rested slumped on the sofa in each other’s arms. I was exhausted and so was Carla. The second night of our harness would have to wait.

Carla awoke to my fingers at her cunt again, rubbing her clit, penetrating knuckle deep, starting her towards another orgasm. In her dazed still slightly asleep state, she protested. But I told her to take it like a girl and that she’d end up cumming as much as I wanted her to, not as much as she wanted to. Realising her plight, and how she was, at that moment, totally at my mercy, she simply confirmed OK, and tipped her head back, her lips just opening slightly as my wanking her started to have an effect. It didn’t take her long to cum again, her not really putting up any resistance. After cumming a second time, I slowed my fingers down and whispered what I wanted her to do.

She moved away from my fingers, arranging my cunt lips and hers and lowered her cunt to touch mine, our cunt lips touching, our clits touching, and then she started moving her body, our cunts rubbing, our clits nudging, our flaps twisting. Those little movements, cunt contact filled with love, began building up orgasms in both of us. As I was near, I almost threatened her that she wouldn’t want to see the consequences of stopping before either of us came. She laughed, and sped up. She had stamina, that girl. Made up for my lack of stamina really.

Cunt manipulating cunt brought orgasms alternately for us. We could both feel the stickiness around our cunts from our combined juices, and that just spurred us on more, with more and more sticky cunt juices sprayed over our cunt rubbing partner. On and on she went, until, eventually, we had no more girl cum to give, and we cuddled until it was time to return me to my husband, who promptly licked both our cunts clean again as he did the day before.

Just as Carla was about to leave, the assistant barman arrived with my bra, big piles of male cum in each cup, and he insisted I put it on, the cum oozing all round my nipples and the fleshiest parts of my tits. I had to wear it all day. He’d be checking. My husband suggested I needed a little exercise, as cum warmed by exercise became particularly fragrant and even more sticky than usual. The barman approved of the plan, and he was going to make Carla do the same tomorrow, and then spend the night serving in the pub with hers on. An evil plan, and one my husband suggested would bring about a visit to the pub again.

Carla suggested he was trying to get his bonus for increased sales by slutting the barmaid out, but he countered suggesting that she didn’t need his help to slut herself out. Even she conceded that was true, and they both had a grope of my bra and cum covered tits before she and the barman left.

My husband turned the heating up to make me sweat, to get my tits hot and therefore heating up the cum. I have to admit the way the bra stuck to my tits with a load of sticky man cum was very sexy, and he fucked me a number of times, each time on my back with his hands squeezing at my caged tits, making the cum ooze round them. I didn’t think I’d be able to cum much after the day before, but the sexiness of the situation made it feel easy.

I thought with all the free-use. I’d reached peak cumming, peak orgasm, but Carla and the barman showed I had even more cumming in me. My body is crap at some things, but it’s fucking brilliant at cumming. The more I orgasm, the more I need to orgasm, and with Carla and the barman, I have two more people who will happily make me cum.

Relentlessly Cumming Carla (Part Two)

25 October 2025 / / 1 Comment

Carla was bent forwards over the arm of her patio furniture, lit only by the moonlight. She was naked from the waist up, her tits hanging and gently swinging in anticipation of what was about to happen. Her skirt was up around her waist and her legs spread enough to have her cunt flaps visible and just a hint of ass pucker showing. She was ready.

I was lubing up a big dildo, which I had already put into the strap-on harness I was wearing. My body was feeling good, so it was ready. The dildo was nearly lubed, so it was nearly ready.

When we got home, I told Carla of my desire to fuck her outside, so Carla took me out into her back garden, lifted my skirt up, arranged me to allow her to lick my cunt and asshole. Despite the delay, she did get a little of my husband’s cum from my asshole, and she certainly got a load of the barman’s cum from my cunt, as she diligently and effectively cleaned me up, under clear moonlight. I’m sure we could have been seen, but there was no sign of movement nearby.

When she finally stopped licking me clean (having given me the couple of orgasms I didn’t have when my husband was ass fucking me earlier), I went inside and emerged a short time later with the strap-on gear on, which looked really good with my white stockings and suspenders. I was otherwise naked, my tits about to be swung around as I fucked her, me hoping for that feeling of aching from my swinging tits that signified they had been swung around a lot and viciously. I ordered Carla to strip apart from her skirt and arrange herself as I liked. In a frenzy, she did so, almost shivering with anticipation. So obviously, I lubed the dildo attached to me in the most sexual manner that I could, in her full view, licking my lips and almost masturbating it. She was shaking and whimpering. The build-up was exquisite. I just hope my body could survive the distance with the physical and vigorous fucking I had planned.

When the dildo was lubed to my satisfaction, I ordered her to spread her ass cheeks, revealing her quivering pucker to me. I’d fuck her cunt later, but first, her asshole would be mine. I squirted some lube onto it, the cold sticky liquid making her jump, and then I rubbed it in with a couple of fingers, firstly rubbing her pucker and then pushing the fingers in through her pucker. Another couple of squirts and she was ready, so I removed my fingers and replaced it with the dildo’s glans, rubbing it against her pucker as you would a real cock.

Her asshole was very welcoming and soon opened up and sucked in the glans. And then, gently but firmly and in one consistent movement, I pushed the dildo all the way in, until the balls mashed into her ass cheeks. She reared up a little, but pushed back as she would need to when I slammed it over and over.

As we paused in the moonlight, her asshole well filled, her tits swinging, she whispered, begged, pleaded to have her ass well fucked. I grabbed onto her hips, tightly using them for leverage, and then I started moving. I went from fully in to glans only in with every stroke, slamming the balls into her ass cheeks every time, the rhythm such that she was still trying to return her body to position when the next slam occurred.

I was cumming hard. Whenever I use a strap-on with my harness, I part my lips to allow my clit to rub on the dildo, and the action makes my clit rub continuously and it forces me to cum continuously for a bit anyway. But I’ve learned to both enjoy those long orgasms and continue fucking the poor recipients asshole. I really don’t think Carla knew, but I’ve cum like this enough to know to carry on as if I wasn’t.

Carla however wasn’t cumming yet but was getting noisier, so I hissed that she needed to shut the fuck up and take this vicious pounding like the sodomy slut that she is, yet be as quiet as a mouse. She tried to hold the sound back, but it was such a struggle, and that struggle, that focus on noise meant she lost focus on her orgasm, lost control of her orgasm and she came, almost instantly. As I continued the full length slams, she tried to regain control, and with it the noise increased again, so I spanked her ass cheek as best I could without losing rhythm and forcefully hissed “Quiet!” and in her confusion, she came again.

I’d stopped cumming by this point, and thus I could focus better on the rhythm, on the slams. As she started to get louder again, I let go of her hips and lent forwards a little. This reduced the length of the strokes, but allowed me to roughly grab one of her tits in each hand and maul them, squeezing, pulling, twisting. I felt how hard her nipples were, and when she was near cumming again, I let go of her tits, grabbed a nipple with each hand and twisted hard. She cried out, not in pain, but in the strength of the orgasm and the overwhelming nature of the bliss that washed over her.

I wanted to retain enough strength to strap-on fuck her cunt later, so I stopped there, us collapsing in a heap on the furniture, the dildo still buried balls deep in her asshole, my hand having a firm grip on her tits.

I felt the gentle throb is muscle ache in my tits, and that made me happy. My tits had been swinging well, and I love that.

I kissed her neck, telling her what a good little sodomy slut she was, and she giggled, like that schoolgirl again. This took me back to that pub and made me think of Rose, her poor asshole being fucked by my husband’s cock, enormous because he had the video of my fucking machine fuck still fresh in his memory.

I was broken from my daydream by a noise behind me. We both looked round to see a hedgehog snuffling round in the gloom. We rotated, with Carla’s ass still impaled on the dildo, and we sat, my hands regrabbing her tits, watching the hedgehog go about its business, the calmness in stark contrast with the frenzy of five minutes ago.

Once the hedgehog had gone, I began manhandling her tits again, squeezing and pulling at them, all the time, the dildo still being completely impaled in her ass. I whispered in her ear that my poor sodomy slut needed some anal cowgirl, and without acknowledging what I said, she set about rearranging us to allow to move as she needed to.

I can totally see why my husband loves cowgirl, as her tits bouncing up and down as her ass rode my strap-on dildo was mesmerising. I pawed at her tits a bit more, but was mostly absorbed by the rhythmic bouncing of her magnificent tits.

I held a finger out, so that with every bounce of her body, the tip of my finger brushed her uncovered clit. She wasn’t far from cumming again, my mouth reminding her that she wasn’t deserving of another orgasm. She was. She begged. She pleaded. She came.

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