The Sex Lives of KinkyMira and Friends

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

Tag: Groping (Page 4 of 4)

The Waifs and Strays Club (Part One)

28 December 2025 /

I was lying awake. It was Christmas morning and still dark. Someone’s hand was holding my right tit. No idea whose. Could be any number of people. But it was dark, and that firm grip felt good. I was ready for my early morning sodomy session, but I had no idea where in amongst all these bodies my husband was.

My asshole was still a bit sore from last night. I had quite a long session on Carla’s fucking machine. Like the first time she used it on me, it was set up vertically, with two dildos, one in my cunt and one in my ass, and I was held down on it whilst it fucked me, supported, but fully impaled on the dildos, with my hands tied behind my back, emphasising my tits for groping and pawing, my hair being stroked whilst the relentless machine made me cum and cum, sapped all my willpower and then sapped all my strength. I had to be helped off it and collapsed in a chair, in Carla’s arms, with her, even after all that, an ordeal is a good word for it, even after that ordeal, she was still gently finger fucking me. I was broken, so there I stayed, letting her finger my now delicate cunt, whilst the fucking machine’s next victim received the same treatment as I did when I was riding it.

That next victim was Sara, our spit-roast loving friend from down south. Her husband was in Australia for Christmas working, but we streamed her machine fuck live to him so he could enjoy it from afar. She, like everyone else here (apart from me and my husband), would otherwise have been alone for Christmas. I had hoped he would be close to Kiara for Christmas, but he was the other side of the country. So Sara was being strapped onto the fucking machine by the barman from our local (who was single and had no chance to visit family this Christmas). This man who Sara hadn’t met until mid afternoon Christmas Eve, was tightening the restraints round her legs, keeping her impaled on the fucking machine, binding her wrists together behind her back, which had the effect of pushing her marvellous 30GG tits forwards, and grabbing a few handfuls of those amazing tits as he did it. She loved it. From afar, her husband loved it too.

Everyone in the room was a waif or stray. Indeed, my husband and I have no family we want to spend Christmas with, so we were too really.

Anna was here, her husband was off spending Christmas with his mother – Anna had no idea why. I still think there is something not quite right about their relationship.

Paula was here. Her daughter was off staying with friends. And getting herself fucked. Like mother like daughter. Apparently, there would be nine men and three women where she was, and the women were going to be human pass the parcels. When the music stops, a man takes an item of clothing off the parcel, and the man that removes the last piece of clothing gets to fuck her, in front of everyone. All three women were going to be parcels over and over, would be getting dressed and then stripped over and over. Paula was slightly jealous, but she would be destroyed by the fucking machine too at some point, and she’d been fucked already both by a man and some women, so she will get her share of fucking over these few days.

In a blast from the past, Nikki was there. The last time Nikki was mentioned on this blog, she was with a vanilla guy, and so she withdrew from our fucking scene. Well, he turned out to not be so vanilla. It turned out he was fucking anyone and everyone at work. I know I do that, but we have consent. Nikki didn’t know, and thus threw him out. So Nikki was here, to get some well-needed cock and to get back on that sex with an audience horse. She missed it. I knew she would, but she loved him, well, she loved the him she thought she knew, she loved a mirage.

And there’s nothing quite like being made to cum within ten minutes of arriving by the hand of a slut you’ve never met with a crowd around you, egging you on. She loved it. Welcome back Nikki.

Also from the past was Laura’s ex-husband. He was one of those at my gang-bang and he’s another one on his own this year, and he was a well needed extra cock, as there wasn’t enough cock in the waifs and strays club. He had seen Nikki’s previous husband fuck her loads of times in our early sex parties, and now he had his chance to enjoy fucking Nikki. It was pleasantly reassuring for her. And he remembered how to really make her cum.

I knew my husband was going to enjoy finally getting to fuck Nikki, but his first fuck of Christmas Eve was Ella, the final waif here. She is 19 year old, born and raised in the village, a busy hard working student who wants a good grade, loves sex, but not all that relationship or even pulling nonsense. She offered to waitress for us when Carla mentioned the event, and obviously was there to be fucked. I had enough warning to make her a tiny slutty waitress outfit, tiny skirt, apron, and one of my tops with a big hole for her enormous 30HH tits to hang out of. She loved it.

So when we all arrived, we were all clothed (barely, but just about covered up in some cases), apart from Ella, who was here first and already in her waitress outfit with her tits out. And once everyone had arrived, Carla called upon my husband to open proceedings and to explain about the waifs and strays club. Not to put too fine a point on it, we’re all here to not be lonely over Christmas, and we’re all here to fuck.

He welcomed everyone, introduced everyone and laid out the rules. This wasn’t quite free-use, but wasn’t far off. Anyone could do anything to anyone without asking. If you wanted it to stop, you just said our party safeword. No amount of stops and nos will stop anything, only the safeword. The only other rule was that no one cleaned up their bodies. If a woman had cum dripping out of her cunt, unless someone licked it with their tongue, it stayed there. Messy cunt, and cummy tits and assholes were to be admired and rewarded, not cleaned up. He got everyone to say the safeword to prove they knew it, and as acceptance of the rules and consent to the fucking.

Then he went over to Ella, took the tray of canapes off her and gave them to Carla, before pushing gently down on Ella’s head with one hand and undoing his trousers with the other. She got the idea, dropped to her knees, dropped his trousers to the floor and took his already hardening cock, pulled back the foreskin and took his cock into her mouth. Her blow job was quite sloppy, her tongue working the glans and her teeth occasionally running along his cock as she bobbed in and out. When he was hard enough, he withdrew from her mouth, pulled her up off her knees and bent her over the arm of the sofa. Whilst masturbating his cock with one hand, he started fingering her cunt with the other. Her body gave away how much she was enjoying it, as she was riding his fingers.

Once he felt she was ready to be impaled, he leant in, parted her cunt lips with his fingers, spat into her cunt a couple of times, then rubbed his spittle in using his glans before firmly pushing his cock all the way in, making her gasp as he filled her tight cunt. Once he had pushed all the way in, he leant forwards and lifted her head off the sofa, locking her arms straight and with her hands wide, he was positioning her to allow her tits to swing wildly. Once she was in the correct position, he stroked her hair and said “Perfect” and with all eyes on her, he put his hands onto her hips to ensure she was held in place, to ensure she’d feel every millimetre of his drive. He started slowly, building up to full speed full power slams over about fifteen seconds. He was pulling her onto his cock with the hands on her hips and with his powerful drive, there was no escape for her, and with her tits snapping backwards and forwards quite viciously, she knew her tits would feel that fuck for some time after it was over.

He had her orgasm building, but very slowly. She realised it was deliberate, she realised he was fucking her for as long as he wanted, she realised he’d be able to move her slightly and make her cum within seconds, but he didn’t want to yet. She realised why her uni friend fucked older more sexually experienced men, and she realised she should probably do the same. She settled in to a cock slamming tit snapping rhythm for ages and ages, feeling her orgasm coming, feeling his cock growing, and then feeling that tiny change of position that made her orgasm accelerate. In no time at all, she started to cum, clamping down on his enormous cock which finished that off too, and she felt his cum spray several times into her spasming cunt. She was on such a high, only enhanced by the sounds of approval for their orgasms and the ripple of applause.

He pulled her up off the sofa and groped at her tits with his arms under hers, as Carla handed her the canapes back. She winked at her and said “First of many” as she herself had a quick grope of Ella’s tits. She then turned round and told the women to get their tits out announcing that if anyone tried to cover up their tits at all, they’d have their hands bound behind their backs whilst their tits were mercilessly punished. My husband saw the look in my eye, he realised I might do it deliberately just to find out what she’d do, just to get my tits punished.

As soon as my tits were out, I felt someone grab at them. It was Sara who had my nipples in her mouth, my tits guided with one hand whilst she put her other hand up my skirt and started finger fucking me. Everyone was looking at me, apart from Laura’s ex, who was groping, pawing, squashing and tweaking Nikki’s tits and nipples. I knew where the next fuck was going to be.

Camel-Toe Crazy

5 August 2024 /

When I left for university, I was finally released from my mother’s rule. Those clothes she made me wear, the fear she instilled, everything that stopped me from developing into me, rather than a clone of her. At uni, I had a chance to find me.

Fucking men: that was me. Turns out fucking women was definitely me too. Melissa wasn’t the first woman I had lusted after, but she was the first one that I had kissed and we had paired up quickly after that first kiss. I continued fucking my uni guy (he knew and was turned on by the thoughts of me and Melissa fucking) and she fucked some guy too on and off, but we were both enjoying the lesbian sex more. Between them, I was getting the most sex I ever did until I met my now husband.

But the thing I was having real trouble with was style. I wasn’t exactly a slim girl, but I was shapely, with amazing tits (although I wasn’t best enamoured with them at the start) and a wardrobe full of clothes your granny would wear. Thanks Mum, I’m not you. My clothes were all loose, covering me up, lowering my self-esteem even more than what happened in the rest of my teenage years did.

But by this point, I had a whole posse at uni, not just Melissa, and they were determined to help me find and hone my style. I’m not one for clothes shopping, but with a group on hand, we sometimes went out, trying on various things, using their experience and styles to make progress.

After years of crawling under a rock to hide from everyone, I wanted to break free, to be noticed. I had started by wearing tighter clothes, ones that didn’t hide the fact I was slightly larger than ideal, but the clothes I selected all showed off my curves superbly. I got a kick out of the positive response I received. Being noticed was wild!

On one of those shopping trips, we found a bra that dramatically emphasised my cleavage, and I bought that and a dress that took advantage of it. The cup fabric of this deep-plunge bra was also very thin, as was the fabric of the dress, so my nipples showed perfectly. I was advised to use ice to make them bigger to make absolutely sure they were on display, and I started doing this every time I went out.

Figure hugging clothes with monster cleavage and on display nipples was definitely the way to go, and I got a mega kick from showing off my tits, something I still get to this day. It was the first time I really began to love my tits. I know some women get upset when men talk to their cleavage instead of their face, but I love it and it just makes me happy.

Now, I’m not usually one for trends, but there was one trend that it was suggested would get me noticed even more. It was about ten years since camel-toe had first made it into the Urban Dictionary. What for a few years was a fashion faux pas went to being the height of teenage fashion, then looked down on, and then back into fashion again.

One of the poshest girls in the group showed me a pair of shorts in one of the shops that were pretty obscene if I’m honest. The briefest of try-ons showed their potential, but the full obscenity only showed later; the fabric pulled tight into my ass crack and a long way up my cunt, and I could arrange my flaps to make a fabulous camel-toe. I couldn’t wear panties under them, as it obscured the camel-toe, and as I was doubting the purchase, my posh friend said that if I bought and wore a pair, she would too.

In that same trip, one of the others showed me a top that stretched tightly across my tits, and with my deep-plunge bra, the straining of the buttons across my cleavage meant that a column of enormous gapes ran right down between my tits and with my iced nipples showing, it was a fabulous view.

Pair that with the obscene shorts, I had a killer outfit that hid nothing. This was a new slutty out there me, and I was a hit in the club we went to every week. My body was totally on show, everything visible and I’m not going to lie; it got me groped quite a bit, but I didn’t mind. I was seen, noticed, I was me.

And I fucking enjoyed the groping. Interestingly, whilst I was groped by men, I was groped far more by women. I can’t recall how many women I snogged, full on tongues, many of them resulted in mutual masturbation sessions in the seating booths or even right there on the dance floor. I didn’t know their names, I didn’t much care, I just loved the connections, the kissing, the groping, the orgasms.

It always happened the same way. A handful of ass or tit was grabbed, you were hauled from the crowd and up to another woman’s body, tits got squashed against each other, faces got close and tongues got pushed into each other’s mouths. No subtlety or finesse. Just a long hard snog with tongues exploring each other’s mouths and hands exploring each other’s bodies.

With two whole-hearted participants, hands inevitably headed cunt-wards, initially rubbing on the outside of the shorts; the thin fabric was rough and therefore provided a little friction on the rubbing, which only added to the sensation.

Sometimes that was enough, and focussed rhythmic rubbing right there on the dance floor, the odd rough kiss added, was enough to make a girl cum. The fabric of the shorts didn’t react well to cunt juices, and so, for the rest of the evening, I’d have a damp patch at the front of my shorts. Well, so would the other girl, and that was fine. And then the second girl that started masturbating you put her fingers to some wet fabric and she knew. Although she was normally the same. And wet fabric only emphasised the camel-toe, stickiness making sure the fabric stayed up your cunt.

Of course, sometimes, it wasn’t a quick wank on the dance floor that you were after. Sometimes you wanted to feel hand touch your flesh, finger fuck you, and so, guiding each other, you left the dance floor and headed to what were knows as the cubicles, U-shaped benched seating populated by kissing couples, normally on the way to wanking or giving blow jobs. Sometimes you had to wait, such was the popularity, and the cubicles invariably smelled of cum.

So, there you’d be, sitting in this cubicle, legs spread wide, your buttons undone to show your heaving cleavage to your new friend, obscene shorts round an ankle, whilst your new friend works your cunt with her fingers, targeting your clit quite viciously, rubbing on your cunt flaps and finger fucking you with two or three fingers. You could always see the focus on her face as she looks down at your cunt and the joy she was bringing to it. The good ones made you cum several times and then dropped to their knees and got under the table to lick you clean, and then once clean, it was time to swap places and reciprocate, and you’d end up with hands smelling of cunt and mouths tasting of it. A final hard kiss, swapping tastes as we went, and we’d part in search of the next cunt to wank, frequently to never see each other again after that night.

And often, in the same cubicle was Melissa, who, having seen the success my outfits were, got some of her own. She too had monster cleavage and a fabulous camel-toe, and had similar success with the women at the club. And every time, we had a cubicle session too. After all, molesting Melissa was the reason I started going clubbing.

The club was a bit like a cattle market, only the cattle picked each other. You weren’t fussy. Pretty much any woman who grabbed you was fair game, any cunt to be cherished for that short while, and of course, when we got back to uni, Melissa and I licked each other’s cunts out, not only to taste our juices, but because we’d publicly pissed on the way back up the hill and never dried our cunts.

Because despite all the groping, all the cunts, I was still hers and she mine.

I instigated as much grabbing and groping as I was grabbed and groped. Let’s face it, if I saw a woman in that club that I wanted to kiss or to make cum, I went for it. It’s why most of us were there, on show at the cattle market. I was rarely rejected, and I virtually never rejected anyone. Why would I?

I remember those nights with great fondness. I have no idea how many women I made cum, or how many made me cum. But it was a lot. And more importantly, I felt alive, I felt free. What with the clothes, the kissing, the groping and the care-free orgasms, both in the club and with Melissa, I felt that I was finally being me.

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