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

Tag: Free Use (Page 1 of 2)

The Sexualisation of Normal

I haven’t written that much about our free-use lifestyle, other than the big sessions, the parties. But free-use is my daily reality. Over the course of any given day, I’ll probably have sex with three different men, I’ll orgasm at least four times, at least once from anal, and aside from that, my cunt, ass and tits will be displayed and viewed, I’ll be groped and mauled, I’ll kiss loads, I’ll have cock in my mouth, all on their whim, on their timetable, and the result is that I am kept on a sexual high all day.

On Fridays, because I’m the only one of the four women who is available during the day (and the men are normally on end of week work from home days), I get much more free-use than that. All four men normally fuck me twice each, I’ll cum at least eight times, I’ll probably have anal four times and vaginal four times and then add all the other stuff in too. And that’s before I get to the pub to be fucked into the night by Carla.

Fridays are an ordeal. Fridays are a struggle. Fridays are so tiring, such hard work. Fridays are my favourite day of the week.

To really emphasise the use aspect, the men like us to carry on with what we are doing whilst they use us. Holding a conversation is hard, and quite often, if there are two or more women there, they’ll wait until we are deep in conversation, then someone will start fucking each of us. Two people whose thought patterns are being interrupted hold hilarious conversations, but we have to carry on. It is the epitome of free-use.

And I have to say that the fact that we can’t talk about the sex or anything free-use, while it’s happening or afterwards, is really quite hard. It just has to happen, unspoken, unmentioned.

I’ll quite often be cooking, and they’ll bend me over the kitchen work surface and fuck or masturbate me, whilst expecting me to carry on with the actual cooking. That’s not too hard perversely, just don’t try to follow a recipe. Being fucked whilst reading is hard, and I’ll probably have to go back and re-read those pages. Watching TV is fine, although I’ll miss bits. He’s taken to cradling me and masturbating me all the time I’m watching TV, not trying to make me cum, but if I do, he just ignores it and carries on.

This is one of the big parts of free-use for me: the sexualisation of normal. They fuck me whilst I do normal things, like converse, write, type, cook. I get fucked doing things other people do not get fucked doing.

I think the conversation fucks are the most incredible. Making me feel both important and valued in what is said and a sexual object at the same time, valued and subjugated at the same time. To make one feel both valued and cheap in that moment is quite the gift. That normal people can have a conversation without being fucked, and often I can’t, really keeps me deep down submissive. That I can’t watch the TV without being masturbated really keeps me deep down submissive.

That and almost always being topless, pantyless and wearing a very short skirt at home, so that I am not only available for use, but often visible and displayed, expected to be visible and displayed, proud and yet a constant reminder of what I am, a reminder to all us free-use women what we are.

The no panties thing I did years ago, to give him better access to my cunt at all times. The topless and short skirts at home is more recent, as we free-use women got more submissive. It is our version of a typical slave statue display, and allowing our usually hidden body parts to be displayed, consumed by the free-use men, it is itself part of the free-use. If the people in the room are in on the free-use, us women have to sit, legs wide, skirt up and not in any way hide our tits or cunt. We are to be consumed with their eyes, before being consumed in other ways. It adds to our subservient feelings, and is part of keeping us women on a sexual high.

I’m not allowed to adjust my clothes otherwise. If someone (for example) lifts my skirt up to display my ass, I’m not allowed to pull it down again, unless someone tells me to (or someone or gravity does it for me). If I’m clothed, I’m not allowed to get a tit out, but someone else can. My state of dress (or indeed undress) is totally controlled by others. It’s strangely freeing.

As well as not wearing panties, I haven’t covered my cunt for 8 1/4 years. So, no trousers / leggings / tights. I wear stockings and suspenders and skirts / dresses. (There are two exceptions, swimming (although we go to nudist swimming events as much as possible), and the odd sex act (like panty wetting, but that is as he requires and is for our mutual pleasure)).

Bras are a different matter. I have big tits. UK bra size 34H, US 34K. Until recently, I always insisted on wearing a bra to keep them in check. But I’m a sub now, and I’ve known for the longest time that he’d prefer I didn’t wear one most of the time. I wanted him to take ownership of me, and one of the consequences of that was to deal with bras. I now won’t wear one, unless he wants me to.

It feels a lot more sexual to me, going round without a bra, having them swing around and having my nipples show so much, visible and protruding under a blouse. On the odd occasions I do wear a bra, the bra will be one of the quarter cup ones I’ve had custom-made (as manufacturers don’t make them for my cup size), so even if I’m wearing a bra, my nipples are often visible. And my nipples react very strongly to rubbing on clothes, so they are now constantly enormous, hard and proud. It’s all a part of keeping me sexually aroused.

It’s a big change to not wear a bra at times, a massive change, like my massive tits, and being topless round the home and going out mostly not wearing a bra is new to me. And I very soon realised that attention I’d get with mammoth unleashed tits and nipples the size of bedknobs was plentiful and exciting. My husband has all my old bras locked away, like my remaining panties, and I have extremely large, slightly painful, very noticeable, massive nipples for my trouble. And my husband has been pointing out how magnificent a nipple piercing would look displayed on a massive nipple with a thin layer of fabric stretched over it.

I have done and continue to do exercises to strengthen my back, to allow me to maintain better posture with my tits unsupported for extended periods of time, and I wish I’d done them years ago. I used to believe locking up my tits was the right thing to do, but the free swinging and snapping of my tits, the slight pain in the flesh caused by a day of being unsupported, is wonderful. It sounds perverse, but I love it so much, and of course, I can’t hold on to them, can’t hide them, so gravity does its worst on them all day every day.

Honestly, I am truly happy when I go to bed with throbbing tits, a stinging ass, an aching jaw and a messy cunt where cum is sliding out of it. I am in total heaven when that happens, especially all that with him spooning me with a semi-hard cock residing in my ass crack and a hand firmly gripping a tit.

My friend Shae mentioned (on her blog slaveshae.wordpress.com) that our free-use is not a dom-sub arrangement, more of a free-use kind of polycule. It’s a fairly accurate description. When the penny first dropped about my being a full-time sub, I really struggled, precisely because it doesn’t fit within a standard dom-sub arrangement. I tried to crowbar it in, I went round and round in circles. Don’t get me wrong, my husband is a dom, he is gentle, steady sort of dom, born out of being a natural manager, but nevertheless, he has pulled all these little sub things I used to do into one, and he is very much in control of me, and that is exactly what I want, a warm hugging blanket, built on trust, with a man I would walk to the ends of the earth for, but a man who totally looks after me, a man who has my back, has my best interests at heart and a man totally comfortable with using his property however he wants. It feels pretty perfect right now.

But the rest of the free-use men are different. I liked Shae’s use of the word “culture”. The men have rights to us, to use us, to look, grope, fuck, whatever, one, two, however many at a time. I’m sure they are being a bit dommy when they take us, but I’ve talked to them, and they feel more like they are just taking what is theirs, usage by rule, and we have an expectation to be used that they have to live up to.

It’s the women that have been most affected. All four of us are very subby now, and that’s quite a surprise. We are all fairly strong women otherwise, businesswomen, entrepreneurs, good positive female role models. And yet, with the flick of a switch, we’re back being hugely subby, eager to sexually please. Switching between those roles is a bit of a head fuck to be honest. I have the journey home to switch into the correct mindset, and as soon as I get through the door, I have to switch into the correct clothing arrangement to finish the job.

And the other three women are on the same path, at some point along the journey. Even the one that was resistant to being subby has conceded that’s what she is and is embracing it. We didn’t expect that. That’s why I think this is permanent for all of us now. I really can’t see how any of us can back out of this.

We women are not lower in status because of the free-use. We are still equal partners, still equal friends, still valued, still important, still with the same status we always had. It’s just that certain things we’ve signed over to others. Doesn’t lower our status, just changes our mindset and behaviour.

The sex, the control, the masturbation, the display, the relentlessness, the orgasms, the clothes, the penetrations, the carrying on what we are doing is all a part of the free-use experience. The more we’ve done it, the more things like display and masturbation we’ve added in to something that at the start was mostly about penetration, the more overwhelming and all-encompassing it has become, the more intense our experience is. The men have completely sexualised normal.

And we are about to make our free-use bigger and more intense, more sexual. And every single one of the women can hardly wait.

Carla Finally Sees Me (Part One)

I first saw Carla not long after I arrived in the village. She was the chief barmaid in our new local, and she was just my type. Big tits that she liked showing off. Nice round ass. Sexily curvy with a gentle sway as she walked. Clothes style of her own that she wore with confidence. Sassy. Strong personality. Pretty face. Very kissable lips. About my age. Lesbian. And single.

I began to dream about fucking her, in fact I’m fairly sure I came unaided a number of nights during such dreams. Initially, me fucking her stayed firmly in my imagination, as we were infrequent visitors to the pub, but as we got more embedded in the community, we spent more time in there and I got to know her a bit. And the more I got to know her, the more I wanted to fuck her.

I didn’t think she’d even seen me, but I turned up one day late to the pub in a dress that was hard for her to ignore. The top part of the dress was fundamentally two pieces of fabric that started at the waistband at the front, went over the shoulders and ended up at the waistband at the back. It pulled tight on my 34H tits holding them in place, but I had significant side boob and the gully between my tits was all on display, and with the tits squashed together, it was a fabulous view. The bottom part of the dress was just as subtle! The dress was so short it showed my suspenders to the world. It barely covered my cunt (I was pantyless as always). It didn’t really cover the lower part of my ass.

To be honest, I don’t know why I wore it that night. It’s very much a sex outfit, in the privacy of our own (or other people’s) homes. I wore a long coat walking down to the pub, and if there had been youngsters around, I wouldn’t have taken the coat off, but in a room full of slightly drunk regulars at near closing time, it was fine, and it did a girl’s self-esteem a lot of good to get admiring and lingering looks.

When I went to the bar, Carla was very much checking me out with her eyes. I think I blushed, and I’m sure her nipples ended up more visible and larger under the thin cloth of her top and bra at the end of the conversation than when we started.

I think she got me slightly flustered because I forgot my husband’s crisps, having to go back to the bar to get them. She gave me his favourites from memory, without charging, then asked me to come back after I gave them to him, as she needed some help with something behind the bar. I didn’t realise. I’m innocent dontcha know. And I was slightly flustered.

She left the assistant barman to run both bars (as there were only a trickle of customers at this point) and ushered me out the back and into a stock room. She put a box of wine behind the door to keep it closed, then telling me she wanted to do this for some time, she just pulled me towards her and kissed me, firm, hard, straight to tongues. My mouth opened on instinct and my tongue joined in, kissing her back as hard as she was kissing me. My hands went to her leather clad ass to pull her in tight, and she reciprocated, putting her hands up my tiny skirt so that her palms rested on my bare ass cheeks. To have her hands on my ass and tongue in my mouth felt so good.

After a fairly long time, we broke, and with hope in her eyes, she told me she’d fancied me for ages and tonight’s outfit was so amazing, she decided she needed to fuck me that night, that she desperately wanted to fuck me. She had done for a while and she wondered if I wanted to fuck her, and if my husband could be persuaded to fuck someone else tonight, leaving me all for her. (She knew we regularly swapped partners, and she knew Rose’s husband had left for a work trip that day, so she knew there was a woman spare). I told her I was hers, so all she needed to do was go over and ask him.

Initially hesitant, but then emboldened by the thoughts of how often we swapped partners, and feeling both sassy and hopeful, she marched straight over, and as she picked up some glasses from the table, she casually asked, in a totally matter of fact way, “could my husband be persuaded to fuck someone else tonight, so she could fuck me?” Before he could answer, Anna’s husband announced that he had decided to fuck Rose that night, and Tanya’s husband said he’d been looking forward all week to make Tanya’s ass and asshole pay for what she did last weekend (no, I have no idea what that was either), and so they wouldn’t swap that night, so my husband was left having to fuck Anna. Now, Anna loves fucking my husband more than fucking her own anyway, and Rose was just happy to have someone to snuggle up to and to fuck that night. (Her husband would be away on the other side of the world for a few weeks, and she was feeling quite low.) So, even though free-use meant the women weren’t given a choice, both women were very happy.

My husband got up and took Carla aside, asking her in earshot of the rest of us what she was going to do to persuade him. There were smiles and giggles between them, and eventually they came back to the table. A deal had been done. Neither of them would say what the deal was, but knowing my husband, it involved him fucking her, all three holes, maybe even on different days. But whatever the deal, my husband and Carla were happy, and therefore, so was I.

They agreed that Carla would deliver me back home at 11am, when she came to open up for lunchtime, and the rest of the men all agreed to swap women back then too, and to suspend all free-use beyond their allocated woman for the night. (Not the first time we’d done that either).

It was all sorted in such a matter of fact way, in a normal volume pub conversation, not hushed tones in secret. It was like we were organising the village litter pick, not organising fucking people other than our partners. Carla left us to start the long process of closing and sorting the pub out for tomorrow.

I snuggled into my husband, but he still wouldn’t give up details of the deal. He just confirmed that he was very happy with the deal and that Anna’s cunt and asshole would have a particularly large and hard cock to take tonight, as he’d be thinking about me and Carla fucking too. He had a twinkle in his eye, a twinkle that left me worried for poor Anna’s asshole, but I left it, as I was too wrapped up in the fact that I was about to fuck this barmaid I’d been fantasising about and lusting after for months.

So, after Carla called time, the others left with their respective fucks for the night. Once they had gone, I flipped my skirt out of the way and sat with my cunt on display for Carla, teasing her, trailing what was to come. She briefly stopped to kiss me and put a hand to my cunt and masturbate it a bit, just a furtive little wank, unspoken but allowed, which enabled her to feel I was already quite slick with anticipation. It was a bit of wanking and teasing, in full view of the barman, whose grin showed his appreciation of my display.

At one point during their tidying, Carla bent over near me, and I took advantage of the leather skirt riding up her ass to put my hand up between her legs. To my delight, she was pantyless as well, and a quick finger or two in her cunt allowed me to feel her cunt was a slick as mine. Neither of us said anything, she just opened her legs slightly and let it happen, but she knew. An unspoken bond.

It was gone midnight before her and the barman had finished, and I spent most of the time with my cunt on display. The grin showed the barman didn’t mind, his regular lingering glances, not quick or furtive, and the bulge in his trousers, was giving away his enjoyment. But that bulge wasn’t for me tonight. Carla’s moist slippery cunt was, and it was clear Carla was enjoying the view too, revelling in the promise of what was to come, and putting on a display was keeping me aroused.

At one point, she whispered in my ear how I was a dirty little slut for wearing those clothes, for having such a slick cunt before she even started, for brazenly showing the barman my overused cunt and there’s only one way for dirty little sluts like me to be treated, and that was by milking orgasms out of them, relentlessly, harshly, with disdain. She pulled away from me, before leaning back to me and whispering one last thing. She’s a dirty little slut too, and needs to be treated accordingly. Oh, she will be.

Being Ill Is No Excuse (Part Two)

I awoke to a sharp chill, aware that the quilt had been removed. I opened my eyes enough to see Tanya’s husband looking up and down my body. He started asking how I felt, whilst inspecting my messy body, parting my legs to look at my cum trashed cunt, before closing them and parting my ass cheeks, which were near the edge of the bed. He only had to move my body a few inches to get my ass right to the edge again, and he began lubing my asshole up, drooling on it to really demean me. All the men knew how to properly lube an asshole, and in no time at all, he was pressing his glans against my ass pucker for some sideways sodomy, my pucker slowly opening and my asshole sucking his glans in. He was only partially hard whilst doing this, but quickly hardened up as I sucked him in.

Soon, he was all the way in, and he grabbed my hip and waist to get a good hold and to emphasise his drive. Tanya’s husband doesn’t last long with anal, he gets too excited. And as he slammed in with all the force he could muster, his cock grew to stretch my asshole with each stroke. I think the noise I made as he overfilled my asshole finally did him in, and he grew again (almost too big), and then spewed cum into my asshole, then pulling out so the rest was sprayed over my asshole and ass crack. I already had loads of dried cum over my cunt and ass crack, what’s the difference with adding a load more? He was tender and kind with me before he left and I drifted off again. I had repeatedly done this during the day, as I wasn’t well, but was the allocated free-use woman to fuck for that day, as I am every Friday, and I was the one who came up with the rule that minor illness wasn’t enough to stop free-use. As I drifted off, I resolved to keep my stupid ideas to myself in the future (which we all know won’t happen), but was happy as I figured more cock would penetrate me later, as it always does on a Friday.

I woke up a while later, almost disappointed there was no man waiting to fuck me. I just about got myself downstairs and into the kitchen, taking a glass of squash to quench my thirst. As I was drinking it, Rose’s husband let himself in and found me in this state. Dress down off my tits and up leaving my cunt visible, covered in cum (as was my ass crack and asshole), with more cum dripping out of my cunt.

I knew that he would love to say something about my state, but he wasn’t allowed to. So, we ended up talking about me feeling ill, while with no sympathy at all, he arranged me over the kitchen sink, my tits tantalisingly close to being dunked in the washing-up water. His glans was pushed to my cummy cunt lips, rubbing cum up and down my crack before the glans pushed into my cunt. His strokes were very long, very deliberate. With each thrusting movement, my tits did dunk in the water, something I enjoy enormously.

The dunking and the cummyness added to the sensations in my cunt to start building another orgasm quicker than I expected. That orgasm broke, yet he didn’t slow down, didn’t break rhythm, as he treated my orgasm with disdain. I had no respite, as my orgasm started to build again immediately, this time mirroring the hardness and size of his cock. As his cock got enormous, I felt him place a hand in the small of my back, pushing on my back and making my tits stay in the water as he came, and then I did a few moments later. His first cum spurt was in me, and then he had his glans in the base of my ass crack, cock aimed up the crack and he emptied the rest of his load all up my ass crack, totally obscuring my ass pucker from view.

I was aware of another man behind me, and realised Rose’s husband was about to hand me off to Anna’s husband, the two men manoeuvring me across the kitchen and bending me over the table, my dripping tits pressed into the table, and my feet so much further apart. The two men spat on my cummy asshole, before lubing it and Anna’s husband’s cock up. Rose’s husband held my ass cheeks open, giving Anna’s husband perfect access to my asshole, which was at perfect cock height and I felt once again a glans pressing against my very cummy pucker.

With hands still holding my cheeks open, he pushed his cock so it was balls deep in my asshole. He then grabbed onto the top of my thighs and braced against me to drive his cock into my asshole at pace. It was already hard and girthy, but he was showing no signs of stopping, no signs of cumming. My body moved with every slam, taking every bit of cock that it could. There was a lovely monotony to the feeling, really accentuating the free-use vibe.

When finally he came, I didn’t get to feel the throb, as he pulled out and deposited his whole load all over my ass, a circular covering of cum, coating my cheeks, crack and pucker.

And then as soon as they were there, they disappeared, just leaving me there in a cummy mess bent over the kitchen table, too tired to move, no chance to cover up, no dignity left.

Some time later, I awoke, still bent over the table, to the sound of two voices, my husband’s and Anna’s. I heard a squelching noise, which sounded like lube and I then felt two more hands opening my ass cheeks and yet another glans pressing at my pucker.

As the cock pushed in, the two hands (which were Anna’s) kneaded at my ass cheeks, and soon, my husband was the latest man that day to fuck my asshole with all he could manage, his cock getting almost frighteningly large and hard. I heard kissing, him and Anna kissing, proper frenzied kissing like those first young love snogs, all the while he drove into my asshole, with a metronomic rhythm. I felt like I was in an almost trance-like state as the rhythmic penetration almost made me zone out. I came out of the trace to feel his cock get really hard, ready to cum hard, but I only felt one single pulse, as the rest of his cum was deposited on my ass.

I hadn’t cum, and I had barely felt him cum. It felt like free-use at its best.

As I lay there an even less dignified cummy mess, I heard Anna slurping on his cock, cleaning his cock up. I couldn’t be arsed to look – I just lay there in my messy cum covered glory.

I then heard them take pictures, Anna’s hands opening my ass cheeks or cunt and moving me to get a good view. He said I needed to see, and when I wasn’t ill and was horny, I looked. Wow, it was amazing. I was splattered with cum, strings of creamy cum decorating my cunt and ass. And the disconnect, the disregard, the use, the undignified way I ended up was delicious. It felt like it wasn’t me, even though I knew it was. It was unreal. It was marvellous.

After they took their pictures, Anna started cleaning me with her tongue, taking her time and cleaning every drop of cum from my body, getting her tongue right into my asshole and cunt to clear as much from there as possible (and giving my clit a workover and making me cum “by accident” in the process). Once I was externally cleared of cum, they carried me upstairs and tucked me into bed.

I later found out a few things about that day. Firstly, he had a discussion with me in the morning about me being free-used that day, and I had said, almost nonchalantly, that I’d take whatever they gave me. So he put that message on the group chat and that is what they did. When he finally tucked me into bed, he put a black heart on the chat, meaning I was out of bounds for the night. He fucked Anna that night, and he and Anna’s husband double penetrated her as well – cunt and ass swapping half way through. I slept. I’d been fucked enough.

To me, this was one of the best free-use sessions I’ve had to date. So much cock, so much cum, so much ignoring of my situation, so much indignity. I mean, I was plastered in cum and just fucked anyway by the next cock in line, each just adding more cum to the mess. The coordinated splattering with cum was just divine, I was fucked so much, I was used without regard, my situation ignored, my dignity ignored and I absolutely adored it.

Being Ill Is No Excuse (Part One)

I slowly drifted to consciousness to the feeling of my husband lubing up my asshole. It was dark outside and he was going to be leaving for work early. And he clearly wanted to fuck my ass.

This is not an unusual scene. Me waking (or sometimes not really getting beyond a dream-like state) as he pounds my asshole with a sizeable, hard, unforgiving cock. In this case, he wasn’t even in when I stirred, but after spitting on my asshole, with a light touch, he pressed his glans through my sphincter and, all the time keeping all his weight off me, he began to push in and out, gentle at first, speeding up and getting more vigorous.

As I moaned, he said “Morning gorgeous” and took my waking as reason to get more forceful. I had no idea how long he was fucking me for, but it felt so good, and eventually, his cock got harder and spurted cum deep into my ass.

I hadn’t cum. I never do in this partially awake state, but it feels so lovely, so dreamy, that I adore him doing it anyway. I feel so loved before he fucks off to work. Starts my day the perfect way.

As he pulled his cock out, he wiped it down my ass crack, in a very demeaning action, and then left me, body exposed with a cummy ass crack and disappeared to get ready for work.

I didn’t move as I drifted off again. I needed the sleep. I felt like crap. I just had a cold, and didn’t want to move. Although I did feel better after my ass being invaded by his cock.

But, I had to get up. It was Friday. It was the day I had to be available for fucking. Friday is the day that Anna and Rose are both working, and Tanya is out of the village visiting her mum, so I was the only one of the free-use women available to get fucked. We’d made it clear that minor illness was no reason to not be available for free-use, and I was starting to regret coming up with that rule now. As I hauled my sorry corpse off the bed, I sorted my hair and then selected my dress, a 50s style number in blue and white, with shoulder straps, a top that supported my tits without needing a bra, and a mid-thigh length flared skirt. I was going to leave it there, but I couldn’t resist white stockings and suspenders. Even though I was feeling like crap with a cold, I wanted to look good, it made me feel great to look good.

It wasn’t long before my first knock on the door. Rose’s husband. I’m his favourite fuck, quite possibly including his own wife. He pointed out how unwell I looked, but that was where his sympathy stopped. He bent me over the back of the sofa, nudged my legs apart with his foot, flipped my dress up to reveal my cunt and ass and then just pressed his glans into my cunt’s opening, with no ceremony. My cunt enveloped it, quickly swallowing his whole length as he pushed in.

It did feel good having my cunt filled with hardening cock, and as he got harder, his cock started rubbing along the bottom of my cunt. He was relentless, rubbing and re-rubbing the same spots, knowing all too well, I would cum if he didn’t stop.

He had no intention of stopping, and even though I felt like shit, I felt an orgasm starting to build. As I got close, to the point that he knew I was on the verge of cumming and he knew he wasn’t, he just flicked at my clit with his index finger, his nail contacting with my poor unsuspecting clit. The jolt of the flick knocked my orgasm back, before almost immediately starting to build again. He was so cruel, but his cock was growing, and I knew he wanted me to cum at the same time as he did.

He flicked my clit for a second time, his own orgasm building, but still annoyingly far away. His relentless rhythm did eventually pay off, as he finally brought me to orgasm, and my cunt squeezing down on his cock as I came was the last straw for his cock, forcing him to cum, the first load deep in my cunt, but he then pulled mostly out, so that all the rest was just inside my cunt, waiting to slide out. He was setting me up to have a messy cunt all day, like my messy ass crack, which he had done nothing to resolve. He just left me still bent over the sofa, as he went on his way, leaving the door unlocked for the next fuck to come in.

I just lay there for a bit, mustering up the energy and enthusiasm to move. Just as I was going to, Tanya’s husband arrived. He didn’t seem to notice I was ill (or didn’t care as he knew he would fuck me anyway), instead just focussing on my visible, gaping, messy cunt and equally messy ass crack.

He didn’t even move me, just pushing his ever hardening cock straight into my cum filled cunt. Now, I do love that sloppy seconds scenario, just ignoring a clearly messy cunt and fucking it anyway, and even in my unwell state, I got off on it.

I can’t say I was the most responsive, but I did moan as he started getting the rubbing right. He put one hand on each ass cheek, as he used them to increase his drive. He was slamming hard, and the thoughts of a second load of cum in my messy cunt meant that I wasn’t far from another orgasm. This time, there was no waiting, as his powerful strokes brought us straight to orgasm within seconds of each other, and his glans was barely in my cunt as he came, meaning yet more mess just inside my cunt. I could really do without it today, but they clearly had other ideas and I had no say in the matter.

After he left, I eventually moved and crawled back up to bed, still wearing my dress and stockings. The door was still unlocked, meaning the next fuck could just let themselves in as well. There would be a next fuck. I mean Anna’s husband hadn’t fucked me yet today, and then I would normally have another round of all of them, this being a work from home Friday.

I must had drifted off to sleep, as the first I was aware was my body being turned over and dragged to the edge of the bed, my dress ruckling up under my ass to reveal my cunt as I was moved. Anna’s husband pulled my legs into a vertical position, my ass at the edge of the bed. I felt his cock push between my fleshy thighs and nudge at my clit, pushing under it and into my cunt. He smiled at me as he started fucking. It was the ultimate in take what you want – he hadn’t even said a word to me, just moved my body onto his cock.

It felt so good, but I knew I wouldn’t be cumming quickly this time. He settled into a rhythm where neither of us were being massively stimulated, but nevertheless, he was being kept hard and I was being kept filled.

I lost track of time, possibly even drifted off, his cock sliding in and out of my well lubricated cunt being very comforting, and feeling like an all encompassing cuddle to ward off my cold. I felt a subtle change in his position, as the cock that had been getting harder for however long he was fucking me started rubbing, started building towards my orgasm. He loves a long fuck, but the fact he was rubbing showed he was near, and needed me to get there.

He had my legs pinned to his shoulders (one on each) for the entire time, and the long regular motion had made my tits come loose from the top of my dress, and made them snap up and down with each stroke after that. You could see in his face, and feel in his cock, that he was mesmerised by my snapping tits, and I love it so much that within a couple of dozen snaps. I started to cum, my cunt clamping down on his cock was the signal for him to finally stop fighting his orgasm and to start spraying.

He deposited one big shot of cum deep in my cunt, but then withdrew and deposited the rest just inside my cunt with a load on the outside. This had to be planned – all four of them making my cunt and ass a mess wasn’t a coincidence, and I guessed any more fucks I’d have would continue the trend. I liked it, I admit, but it was their choice and I had no say.

Once he had finished, he put my legs together and rotated my whole body, so that I was lying on the bed. He helped me to shuffle up the bed into a more comfortable position and put the quilt over me to keep me warm, and I drifted off again, content with another fuck and revelling in my messy cunt.

Free-Use Rules (Part Two)

Having already seen about the scope of our free-use, the quirk of our community and the punishments for rules violations, this post describes how the group actually operates on a daily basis.

The women have to signal their availability, and do so in one of two ways, by a chat group and by optional flowers in our hair. All 8 of us are in the chat control group, and we women have to put our availability in the chat group (and our location, so we can be found and fucked), and we can use flowers as well if we want to. (It is only the women that have to signal our availability, as it is the men that start the free-use and just take us.)

If a woman puts a white heart in the chat group, it means she is available for free-use (and can do it there or elsewhere as the man wants). A red heart is the same as a white one, but the woman is on her period: Anna and I both have Mirenas, so only Rose and Tanya can use that heart. A black heart means she’s not available for free-use. Any other coloured heart means that she is available for free-use, but must go elsewhere to do it. The heart is valid until the next one is posted, and she can put timed hearts on the group, (e.g. white heart until 6am, then black heart).

I’m particularly pleased for my husband. He loves period fucks, and hasn’t had many since I got my first Mirena, so you can guarantee a red flower or heart will see him repeatedly using the menstruating woman, with him arranging his working from home around their heaviest days, and both Rose and Tanya seem to love it.

In addition to the hearts, wearing flowers of the same colour in our hair means the same thing. It is basically so the men don’t have to consult the chat to see if we are available while we are out and about in the village. If there is a conflict between the flower and the heart, the most free meaning colour is assumed, and at some point the woman will be punished in the usual manner.

Availability can be changed at any time, but if she is being used, that usage will complete and if there is a queue, those in the queue will complete their use before the new availability status is valid.

Inside the village, but not in our own properties, a white flower is more likely to be a good grope, a tonguey snog or being taken somewhere to fuck, although full sex out in the village is permitted and has happened (subject to all the usual caveats about such things). Most fucking happens in our own homes or gardens though.

There are three other chat groups. One administered by the women, but visible to the men, where we track who has done what to whom. One is solely for the women, where we discuss plans and scenarios for parties etc. One is solely for the men – no idea what they discuss, but we’re fairly certain, amongst other things, they coordinate our fuckings, because at times, there are certain similarities with consecutive fucks (where the other men are not present to see what went on before).

If multiple men are present, the free-use is first come first served, although the woman’s husband is the lowest priority and must wait until last, even stopping mid-fuck if another man wants to take over. In practice, this often means the husband moves on to another woman if there is one available. If it isn’t the husband doing the fucking, the second man must wait until the first is finished (but often, they will give way repeatedly in a sort of tag team prolonging the fuck for all involved).

We’ve decided that each woman must be available for free-use for a minimum of a half of the hours they are in the village each day (averaged across the week), rising to two thirds of the hours whilst they are menstruating, and that at least one woman must be available for the bulk of each day: others can and do make themselves available, but the nominated women are as follows: Mon & Tue is Rose and Tanya, Wed is Tanya, Thu is Anna, Fri is me, Sat is Rose, Sun is Anna and me. Friday is a particular challenge, as Anna and Rose are both working, and Tanya is out of the village with her mum, so I’m normally the only one available, and often all four men are working from home winding down their weeks, so I get fucked a lot on a Friday. It is often the case that I get fucked 8 times (2 each) before teatime on a Friday. I’m working from home too, so I have to mix fucks in between video conferences, sometimes quite a challenge. My husband also tries to work at home on a Thursday, so he can make the most of Anna being the nominated woman. The third of the week rule is relaxed at holiday times like Christmas (as this will be difficult to manage), but the women do all need to be available as much as possible, and any missing hours must be made up in January and February. If Rose or Tanya’s period is over Christmas, they must make themselves available within 1 hour for the man to enjoy their chosen level of menstruation, and illness or visitors at other times don’t change the time requirements, they just make it much more of a challenge.

Another rule that applies to our properties is that us women aren’t allowed to clean ourselves up or rearrange our clothes without permission. If he gets cum on our face, he has to clean it up, but only our faces (unless he wants to clean up more of course). If we are dripping, or have cum somewhere, it has to stay there until a man tells us we can sort ourselves out or one does it for us. If our skirts (say) are round our waists, they have to stay there until gravity intervenes or a man tell us we can change their positions (or again, do it for us). If we need to go out or have a video conference, we can adjust only our clothes that will be visible and clean away any visible cum or evidence of sex, but if it isn’t visible, it has to stay. The reason for that is that it keeps us on heat and craving sex, craving use. And it fucking works. The men used to clean us up at the beginning, but now, the men don’t want us cleaned up, as they all like seeing the cummy evidence of us being used before. Thus, these days, we are often in a hell of a state.

We are all fucking so much more than we did before free-use, and we women crave even more cock, even to the point of trying to work out how to get more men into the group, and who in the village to invite. I think we all realise this won’t go on for ever, but we are all thoroughly enjoying it whilst it does, and long may that continue!

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