The Sex Lives of KinkyMira and Friends

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

Tag: Masturbation (Page 1 of 10)

Truly Becoming Those Second Wives (Part One)

23 May 2026 / / 1 Comment

In her first evening of free-use, Helen had been fucked by all the free-use men, each man staked his claim to her body, using his rights over her body as he wished, leaving his cum inside her, as deep as he wished, in whatever hole he wished. It was a perfect introduction to free-use for her, with her starting to understand her irrelevance, their determination to make the most of their rights and finally feeling what genuine usage of her body feels like.

But now the focus turned away from her specifically to all the men taking ownership of their second wives. And these were particularly symbolic and stark acts. Our own husbands have always had extra rights over us. One such example is overnight. Whilst we aren’t available for the other men, our husbands have always had rights over us that we can’t turn off, and those rights are very regularly used. The second wives plan means that those extra rights are swapped from our husbands to our second husbands for specific periods, and this whole trip is one of those periods. And now Helen has been fucked by all, the rest of the night will exclusively use the men’s second wives’ rights, to establish our second husbands and wives dynamic. I am Rose’s husband’s second wife, and I’d already had a free-use fuck with him that night, so I knew his cock was on fine form. I was in for a treat.

The first act of our taking by our second husbands was a kind of a ceremonial group fucking. The seating on the patio was rearranged into a circle facing inwards, and the men were sat on the seats, their second wives sat naked on the floor between their second husband’s legs. They each gave their new man a nice sloppy blow job to get him nice and hard, and then got up, turned to face away from him (and towards the centre) and lowered her cunt onto his hard cock for a bit of Reverse Cowgirl. The man then grabbed her tits and held them firm as the women moved just a little bit to keep the cock inside them hard.

Once everyone was in place and doing the tiny fucking movements, the women talked about their penetrations, their free-use and the whole second husband thing, all whilst just gently sliding up and down their respective cocks. Anna was being particularly filthy as my husband’s cock hadn’t been washed since being in Helen’s ass, so Anna’s mouth tasted of Helen’s ass and Anna’s cunt was now filled with a dirty cock. She loved it. Filthy in all senses. A woman after my own heart.

We talked for quite a while. It was lovely actually, some heart-felt feelings and some filth, and when the conversation naturally drew to a close, the men each got up, twisted their respective woman round, buried our faces in the warm seat where his ass was moments before, and then just ploughed a hard cock right into the moist cunt in front of him, accelerating, hardening and fucking us relentlessly. None of the women could see anything, but we could all hear, hear the cries, hear the squelching, hear the filth being spoken by the men, some of it demeaning, some disgusting, some degrading, some just pure lust, hear the begging of the women, begging to cum again, and slowly one by one, hear the women cumming, and then hearing the men carry on, as none of them had cum yet.

And then, in a surreal moment, when all the women had cum, but the men hadn’t, the men started talking about the sleeping arrangements, all whilst carrying on hard fucking. A free-use example of when logistics are more important than us fucktoys.

Five couples, two double beds. Helen’s husband suggested him and his second wife Rose should take the sofa, as neither of them was particularly tall, which left two couples for each bed.

And some of the women were crying out, about to cum again, but were being ignored for logistics, the men ploughing through their second wives’ orgasms without even acknowledging them, as they did with their first orgasms. The men decided to go with the pairings that meant no woman was in the same room as her husband. This meant that me and Rose’s husband would share a bed with Tanya and Anna’s husband, whilst Anna and my husband shared a bed with Helen and Tanya’s husband. It was perfect, emphasising the isolation of our real husband’s and the importance of our second husbands.

Some of us came three times before, one by one, our second husbands came in us, spurt after spurt in our cunts, symbolically filling us with their ownership. And when we had finished, they kept us all pinned in place, not being able to see the fucking still going on, our cunts dripping with cum and still plugged by softening cocks.

This whole session was emotionally charged, and very symbolic, symbolic of the future of our free-use, and I think we all felt it. Helen’s husband in particular was so proud of his wife, so proud her inner slut had escaped so easily, so proud of how she’d handled all those cocks, and so proud that Tanya’s husband had been so tantalised by her in real life, that he wanted her so badly that they brought Helen and her husband into our free-use family. And Helen’s husband would get to fuck that a submissive stick of dynamite that is Rose, him attracted to her long before now by the same things that Rose’s husband saw in her.

And so, at nearly eleven at night, it was time to split, time for each woman to become the exclusive property of our second husbands. Until the morning. For the next eight hours, we belonged to our second husbands. We could not interact with the couple we shared the bed with (although we could look, we probably would look and we would definitely hear). Then at seven, we would emerge into the light, already sodomised without cumming, submissive and ready for our day of fucking, orgasms and free-use ahead.

Rose’s husband was rampant and yet tender and loving. We began with a prolonged kissing and tongues session, and I kissed him back with all the strength and eagerness I could manage, the energy and passion I used with my now husband those first times fourteen years ago, firstly as we kissed, he held my body with his left hand and groped my naked ass with his right, and then, moving his body a little, still holding my body with his left hand and used his right hand to work my cunt, finger fucking and masturbating me, four finger fucking, a bit of clitoral abuse, making me cum and cum all whilst kissing me, my mouth stopping kissing to cry out, but he didn’t and dragged it back into the kissing whether any sound had left me or not. Each time I came, he carried on kissing, as I bend double, his face followed mine down, his lips kissing mine, his tongue jousting with mine all through my orgasms. I was desperately wanting to cum in peace, but he wouldn’t let me, his kissing and tongue jousting made each and every orgasm intense. That intensity, that not letting me cum in peace, that controlling of my orgasm, not only when I had it, but how I experienced it, all emphasised that I was his second wife, that he was in charge, that everything about my body, my orgasms and my sex, in these moments, belonged to him.

I have no idea how long this went on for. I had no idea what was being done to Tanya, although I could hear her cries and her cumming. I even hear the odd cry of a woman not in our room. I think that added to the intensity, that we were each being worked on to a similar effect.

I think his fingers got tired. I certainly was, from all the cumming, but I knew we were far from done. As soon as his fingers left my cunt and his kiss broke, he bent me over the bed, legs apart, feet on the floor, head against the mattress, and he did a long, deep pounding cunt fuck, deliberately missing my perfect rub to make me wait, to make me fuck for longer. For the first time in ages, I could see Tanya and Anna’s husband was doing some deep anal, pillow under Tanya’s ass, driving home like his life depended on it. Tanya came hard again and again, and then he finger fucked her cunt over and over, as Rose’s husband had done to me.

I did wonder if the visuals would make Rose’s husband finish sooner than he wanted, but no, he lasted the course, not rubbing inside my cunt for ages, just endless cock pounding, but when he did shift, he started me cumming again, him holding onto my ass cheeks as leverage and driving hard each and every time. He was relentless and I came loads, as did he when he could hang on no more. And of course he deposited those massive loads very shallowly in my cunt. I’d be dripping all night. I’d expected nothing less.

We had more cuddling and kissing, and he spent a long time sucking on my tits, licking and lightly chewing on my nipples. It felt like a proper, planned, long tit worship session, and with my heightened emotions, it really reinforced the bond between us, my tits once again making a man obsessed with them. After a long time of that, with Tanya and the others still screaming away in the background, with Tanya being bent double and cunt fucked with her second husband’s weight pinning her feet by her ears, I gave my second husband a long, sloppy blow job to bring his cock back to life.

I was so tired, I was so emotional, but I knew there was so much more to come before seven the following morning. We women knew this would be a night for endurance, but none of us would want it any other way.

How Quickly Helen Took To Free-Use (Part Two)

6 May 2026 / / 3 Comments

It was Helen and her husband’s first day of free-use, but it was also our first day officially with our second husbands and their new rights over us women. It was decided that the first evening would be about us being claimed as second wives, as well as every man getting to their first fucks with Helen before the evening was out. It was her baptism of fire. It would be a lot of fucking for her, and then we would retire with our second husbands, for their overnight ownership and use.

But before then, we had to eat and we were seated in a restaurant, at a circular table only just big enough to seat the ten of us. Each man had his wife on his right, and his second wife on his left. And the restaurant was busy, so we couldn’t be outrageous. However, the women each made out with each of the men either side of them, alternating as and when, kissing, tongues, and getting covered tits squeezed and played with, and whilst they were making out with one man, the other was masturbating them whilst kissing the woman the other side of him. The women came, god did we cum, but we had to be quiet and discreet, not wanting to draw attention, although the overwhelming smell of female orgasms emanating from our corner of the room was a bit of a giveaway. Silent cumming is hard, and I think all our bodies shook more because we were holding the sound in.

And so, with the men having cummy hands, and the women leaking cum from their slick cunts, we ate, and the food was good. More masturbation and making out before dessert, and we left before coffee, so desperate were the women for cock, and we were so messy between our legs that dignity was holding on by a thread.

The van hadn’t been moving long, heading back to the cottage, and Anna’s husband couldn’t wait any more, so he bent Helen over, her head resting on Tanya’s lap, her tits dragging across Rose’s lap, and I wanked his cock a little to get him hard, before he ploughed in. I viewed it as her first proper unorchestrated free-use. And it was a hard fuck. He wasn’t hitting the spot for her, wasn’t building her orgasm, but Tanya told her whilst he was doing it that it was entirely deliberate, and she would cum when he was good and ready. This was free-use as its best, and he wanted a long fuck. What she wanted didn’t count. She started to understand. This was about him. She was inconsequential. She was used. She was nothing, and the centre of attention at the same time. Free-use is a head fuck at times.

To make it even more of a head fuck, her tits were soon being pawed and groped (by me and Tanya) and Rose’s husband put a drool gag on her, my drool gag, her husband’s idea to emphasise who is in control, as Helen doesn’t like drool and slobber. The poor girl was clearly overwhelmed, but Anna’s husband kept ploughing on, and Tanya and I kept working her tits, as the men’s plan to break her in to free-use was going well.

As we pulled into the village the cottage was near, Anna’s husband adjusted his position to make her start building to orgasm, to make that rubbing count. Just as we pulled on to the drive, Helen started to scream, her cries muffled by the gag, which was already making her drool all over herself and Tanya’s lap.

The van stopped and my husband, who was driving turned round just in time to see her cum really hard, milked by Anna’s husband’s cock and a hand on her clit.

She had no time to recover from that hard orgasm before we unloaded her from the van, her cunt and ass still revealed by her skirt being over her waist, and only once we got her inside did we remove the drool gag. Her husband was right, she didn’t like it, but she realised, once again, that her opinion didn’t matter and the men would do what they wanted. She knew the drool gag would make a reappearance, and she knew she’d have to endure it. It was a good life lesson in free-use. And later, she secretly admitted to me that although she hated it, she was thoroughly turned on by it. Betrayed by her body. And it won’t be the last time.

Rose’s husband, my second husband, was next to fuck Helen, next to claim her body with free-use. He lay her face up on the patio table, had Tanya and Anna hold her feet up over her head, ankles wide apart to reveal her cunt, and then he wanked her for a bit, fucked her with a dildo for a bit and then, after I hardened his cock up in my mouth, he ploughed into her cunt and fucked her hard, her tits snapping back and forth as he drove in, her feet held in place to keep her bent double and opened up for his cock. She was very exposed and the centre of attention as my second husband made her cum three times before he did. After her second cumming, he ushered me across, put a hand to the back of my head and pulled me in to his face, kissing me hard, and then telling me I was next, and he wouldn’t be so gentle. I told him to bring it on. He smiled and called me a Good Girl, before slamming into poor Helen’s cunt harder. I wished he was fucking me then, not her, but I knew I was next for that wonderful cock of his.

When she came for the third time, and her cunt clamping made him cum, over and over, there was one man left to claim her, my husband, and he announced he was planning to do exactly what I expected him to do. He’s got a thing about his first fuck with a woman being her asshole rather than her cunt, and here was a perfect opportunity.

But before he could get started, Anna’s and Helen’s husbands had a surprise for my husband. Helen’s husband presented his wife with her tiniest pair of panties, a miniscule black lacy thong which happened to be her favourite pair she ever owned. Anna’s husband told her to put them on, so that my husband can fuck her whilst she is wearing them. Helen had commented to Anna’s husband about how she didn’t want to be the only woman in the free-use group without her signed panties from the first time they fucked in my husband’s collection. This solved the issue, he’d get his signed panties.

Once Helen put the panties on, everyone (men and women) took turns to masturbate her, making her cum a number of times into those panties, Tanya’s husband even made her squirt a bit, something she previously hasn’t done much of, all into her tiny panties. Once they were sopping enough, my husband got Tanya and Anna to pull Helen’s feet further over and wider apart than they had been for Rose’s husband, lifting her ass off the table and exposing it more.

My husband moved her panties aside to expose her ass pucker and beautiful dripping cunt (although the panties weren’t really big enough to cover anything), he put a small pillow under her lower back to make her comfortable, and then spent a while just looking, drinking in her exposure, really emphasising the exposure in her head, her tiny panties moved aside, and trash talking to her about how pretty her starfish was and how he was going to destroy it. You could see her nipples get even bigger, you could see her clit break cover from its hood, the signs her body was turned on, and as he started lubing her asshole, Rose started wanking and lubing his cock. The lubing seemed to take for ever, making her wait, making her asshole wait, until she felt his glans press against her asshole.

Helen was a seasoned anal slut, so in no time, her asshole sucked his glans in, welcoming its invader with some moans from Helen. Rose applied a bit more lube and my husband pushed in, steady but firm, and in no time was balls deep in her asshole. And then he started a firm, steady rhythm, fully in, to out up to the glans, then fully in again, firm slowly turning into slams. He got huge, she got loud, neither of them showed any signs of cumming. Rose relubed over and over, as Helen’s anal ordeal lasted nearly an hour, nearly an hour of rhythmic pounds, until they both came, Helen from anal penetration alone.

My husband removed Helen’s panties, roughly and demeaningly wiping her cunt with her tiny panties, and then pocketed them. He’d get her to sign them later, but for now, they were both happy that Helen’s panties would be up there with the rest of them.

Helen was exhausted, happy, claimed by all four men. She’d been cunt fucked and ass fucked, Carla’s big dildo and my drool gag was used on her too. It was quite a night, and it was not yet over, as the men all had to claim their second wives for the night, with each of us being the exclusive property of our second husbands, to be used as they wanted. Even though we were exhausted, and pretty cummed out, we knew we’d get used, we knew we’d be made to cum yet again. Helen’s free-use education continues.

The Sexualisation of Normal

14 March 2026 / / 4 Comments

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.

One For Each Year

4 March 2026 / / 4 Comments

I can’t quite believe my husband and I have been together for 14 years. And in those very early days, he groped my tits as if he owned them, he groped my ass like he’d never groped another, he filled my cunt over and over with hard, girthy cock and thick, sticky cum. And I loved it. I was his. I wanted him to take me over and over. And he did. Two and three times a day he fucked me, my cunt got very used to being filled very quickly.

My first period came, and far from slowing down or stopping fucking me because of it, he fucked me more. I always craved sex during my period and he was the first man to oblige. And we barely cleaned up from one lot before he was in me again, my bloody cunt being a magnet for his hard cock. And each time he did it, it felt that he took me again. His blood-soaked cock was in me, no matter what, taking me no matter what. I loved it. I was still his.

And then my cunt got a little uncomfortable. It needed some rest. And so, desperate for him to continue taking me over and over, I offered him my asshole. And he was kind and gentle and understanding, and well versed with fucking assholes, so even the first time, he started slow, but grew to be huge and strong with his thrusts. I didn’t like anal before, but with him, my asshole wanted to be taken, just as much as my cunt did, and I loved it. I was even more his.

Around the same time as the fourteenth anniversary of us being together, it was also the eighth anniversary of this blog. I thought I’d get bored of blogging by now. I thought no one would read it. I thought no one would like it. None of those turned out to be true. All the writing, all the memories. I’m incredibly horny all the time. My cunt is excited all the time. It wants to be filled all the time. Memory is powerful. My cunt is needy.

Also around the same time, it is the second anniversary of our free-use. I thought we’d get bored of that too, bored of being interrupted, tired of being used. I thought our cunts and asses would be worse for wear for all the sex. I thought someone would drop out or it would fold. None of those turned out to be true either. Over time, we grew to need more cock, we grew to need more use. My cunt is needier than ever.

Even an eight person gang bang didn’t sate it. It’s lust to be taken, it’s lust to be filled was growing more and more, and my asshole wasn’t far behind.

Ever since my husband and I got together, he liked marking and celebrating anniversaries, even sexualising anniversaries that weren’t sexual in themselves. He liked doing things to take me over and over again. I had a lust for a filled cunt, for a stretched asshole. And he always made anniversaries count.

The anniversary of us getting together is always celebrated on our own, just the two of us, emphasising our closeness and bond. But since our tenth anniversary of being together, he’s required me to orgasm the same number of times as the anniversary. This year, fourteen. He’s got 24 hours, but there’s just him. We both have to take the day off work. It is so tiring. Satisfying, but tiring.

He uses a spreader bar to keep my legs spread, to keep my cunt available to his hand, to his mouth, to his cock. My cunt barely has time to recover from cumming before he starts again. It gets so sensitive. My cunt needs him to stop, is crying out for him to stop. He knows the fight I have between cunt and brain. And he knows the brain will win. The cunt will have to put up with it. The cunt craves it really. I have orgasms to have. It has no choice.

And those orgasms arrive, as sure as night follows day. He forces my cunt through its refusal, til that orgasm builds again, til my cunt spasms again, gets wet again, sometimes even squirts. It gets milked again for every drop of girl cum, every drop of squirt.

It’s relentless. He’s relentless. I love relentless. My cunt loves it somewhat less. Still, it doesn’t have much choice.

And this year, we mirrored that first evening when we got together. We went out for an Indian (although this time, I had his cum dripping out of my cunt all the time we were eating). We watched a comedy DVD (the same one as fourteen years ago, although this time, he played with my cunt, he wanked me the entire time we were watching it).

Then we kissed, properly snogged. Although this time, the snogs were accompanied by hard wanking. I came mid snog. One of the fourteen. He didn’t stop snogging me. Or wanking me. I was his. He was doing as he wanted. And my body loved it. My cunt loved it.

Right throughout the day, more often than not, my cunt was filled. Cock when it was able, fingers or dildos when it wasn’t. I couldn’t concentrate. I couldn’t think. I was just a creator of wetness in his hands. I had no will. I just did as he wanted. My cunt just did what it was told.

I can’t explain how overwhelming it was, how much he just played my body like an instrument, over and over on a whim. It’s almost like he was reminding me every second that I used to think I was a one and done girl, reminding me that he made me this way, made me crave his cock, made me cum over and over. I felt like I was just about hanging on, doing what he wanted, proving again that I was his.

I had lost track of where I was, what my cumming tally was. I didn’t have to worry. I knew he’d get me the fourteen. But today was all consuming, today was wanking for wanking’s sake, today was planned to keep me sexually on the edge for the entire day. And my body had no choice. My brain wasn’t going to make him stop, he wasn’t going to stop.

As my cunt came again, just by his fingers this time, he shot me a loving smile, before ploughing four fingers into my cunt again, vigorous, powerful. I threw my head back and closed my eyes, crying out as he milked my tired and overused cunt. I heard a “Just one more, slut” from his soothing voice, my cunt’s ordeal was nearly over.

He briefly stopped whilst he pulled me onto his lap, his erect cock impaling my already lubed asshole as I sat, his hands reaching round my body to both continue the four finger cunt fuck and grope and paw at my already tender tits.

The filth being spoken into my ear, the aching and throbbing of my tits, my asshole being stretched by his still enormous cock, his four fingers filling my cunt and abusing my clit as they fucked it. It overwhelmed me yet again, and I came, hard, extended, not even allowed to finish that orgasm until his fingers decided. He dragged it out. As I stopped cumming, I came up for air.

It wasn’t just fourteen orgasms, it was almost the entire day of being masturbated, groped, tits manhandled, cock in all three holes (often with neither of us cumming, just for the penetration). I couldn’t settle, couldn’t relax even for a second. I was kept on that sexual high all day, I was kept on a submissive high all day (even in the restaurant, he managed it, not least through the cum trickling out of my cunt all the time I was there, my blouse being slightly more open than I’d ideally have liked and the fact that I had a sizeable, slightly uncomfortable butt plug in). I was even penetrated whilst I prepared the other meals of the day. There was literally no rest.

And my poor nipples were punished early on. Manuscript clips, foldback clips, squashing each nipple, the pain of them being applied, fading to a dull throbbing pain, and then the pain of them being removed and the blood rushing back into them. And all the time I endured that, he was masturbating me, almost trying to wipe away the pain with ecstasy from my cunt. Meticulous. Loving. Endurance.

I lost track of time right throughout the day. I lost track of orgasms after the first couple too. The intensity was like nothing he’s ever done. So completely overwhelming. I felt I was fighting just to remain present in the moment, and sometimes I didn’t succeed. Sometimes I drifted away, only to be brought back by an orgasm.

And once I’d had fourteen, and they were fourteen hard orgasms too, once the time slipped past midnight, he put me to bed, intending me to be alone to recover. I cried. I didn’t want him to leave me. So intense had the day been that I wasn’t emotionally able to be alone.

So instead, he spooned me, gripping on to a tit as he often does. It was familiar. It was comforting. It was what I needed. I finally slept, happy, sated, owned, his.

His Late Night Panties Girl (Part Two)

21 February 2026 / / 4 Comments

Standing in front of my now husband, gently rubbing his cock, the cock Louise cleared of Kate’s cunt juices with her mouth only a few moments before, Louise’s tits were still on display, held up on the top edge of the bra and poking out of the top of her dress.

He was staring adoringly at her tits, at her nipples, which were getting harder by the moment. After a suitable time enjoying the display, he squatted slightly, grabbing the lower hem of her dress, and in one swift movement, he pulled her dress up and off over her head, revealing the bra, the tits being held up by it, unmatching panties and her stockings and suspenders. She lifted her arms above her head and posed for him, her immaculate hair free armpits in full view. He thought she looked radiant. She felt empowered, she felt amazing.

After admiring her for a few moments, he ordered her to strip. Playful, yet commanding.

She took her bra off and waggled her 30GG tits at him. He put his hands out and manhandled them for a good few minutes, in particular squeezing their full flesh and pulling at her already enlarged nipples. Just a little rough, he once again showed he owned them. She made those cooing noises again as he manhandled them. She liked it. Perhaps not strong enough, he decided to see if she really liked it.

She continued stripping, by slipping the white panties off and, because she wanted him breathing her smell, she scrunched the panties up again, pressing them against his nose (whilst having a hand behind his head). He was inhaling her fragrance, becoming intoxicated with the smell of her cunt. He was under her spell, under the spell of the intoxicating smell of her used panties. Once she’d had enough of that, she tossed those panties onto his floor with the others and pushed him back onto the bed.

She knelt either side of his head, facing down his body and pushed her cunt over his nose. He could smell how much she had been masturbating today, and he was really looking forward to tasting her cunt. But it was out of reach of his tongue, so all he could do was breathe in her smell. It was much more pungent than the white panties. She was really up for it. Ready to fuck. Slick with juices. And he was breathing them in.

With all her weight on his face, she reached forwards and took hold of his cock again, starting to masturbate it with a firm hand. Given he was already somewhat hard, she went fairly slowly, just moving enough to keep him hard and attentive, edging his cock whilst filling his nose with her smell. She was totally in control, and she had no plan for what happened next. She was so far out of her comfort zone.

He put his hands up and started working her out of sight tits again, pulling them, twisting her nipples, and then one hand went down to her clit, doing the same. All he could see was her back, he was working her by feel alone. Manhandling her tits made her coo. Manhandling her clit made her cunt moisten almost instantly. He held on to a tit to stop her moving away and furiously, viciously worked her clit, making her hips start to move quite quickly.

It wasn’t long before she came, caused by a particularly nasty twist of her clit, her pussy juice plastering his face. Finally leaving her clit alone, he took grasp of both tits again and squeezed and twisted them. Being rough with her tits felt so good to her. It disturbed her a bit that it did, and she didn’t know why.

Louise hadn’t really liked her tits until that point. Too big, too heavy, too hard to control. Now, that size, that heft was being controlled by him, twists, pulls and squeezes that were making her make noises she never had before, making her cunt moist with arousal.

He finally let go of her tits, putting his hands on her hips instead, and using them to move her body just a tiny amount down his face. Now, her cunt was within easy reach of his tongue, and he started feverishly licking at her outer folds, one hand on her ass holding her in position, one on her flaps holding her cunt open for his tongue examination.

As his tongue got deeper and deeper, it felt like his tongue was boring into her soul. She felt like a puppet, only instead of being on the end of a hand, she was on the end of his tongue. Her breathing got heavier and her cries louder as his licking intensified, all that only spurring him on to bore deeper into her cunt.

And when she was close, all it took was a few carefully chosen flicks of his tongue across her clit, and she came again, a shuddering, whole body shaking orgasm that left his face covered in her juices again. After cleaning her cunt up (and giving her body a chance to recover), she got up and saw his face absolutely painted in her cunt juices. She bent over him, tits hanging and wobbling, as she cleaned her juices off his face, sometimes kissing him and transferring the juices to his mouth with her tongue, and sometimes just swallowing them herself. Her mind went to doing that with Kate’s juices too, a lovely thought that almost immediately got her excited again.

Rubbing on his cock with her hands made her realise that now was the time, time for that cock to fill her cunt. She wanted to look at him really, but where he was on the bed was impractical for that. So, she turned round to face away from him, waggled her ass at him, and then lowered her cunt onto his cock. She felt his hands grab onto her hips and guide her down, her hand making sure his hard cock aligned with her dripping cunt. It felt so good to have his cock inside her again, and in this position, it was very deep.

She put her hands onto the bed either side of him and started using her arm and leg muscles to slide her cunt up and down his cock. He let go of her hips and pulled apart her ass cheeks, just watching her asshole as she fucked his cock.

All too soon, her pace started to slow, neither of them was anywhere near an orgasm. She was becoming more desperate trying to work out how to carry on, but it was taken out of her hands. As she slid up his cock, she felt his hands on her ass, providing gentle pressure to carry her cunt off his cock. Then, those same hands locked onto her hips and rotated her to face his desk. She got the idea, and bent over, folding her arms and resting them on the desk. She felt him nudge her legs apart and then felt his glans rub against the damp folds of her cunt.

He was still rock hard and drove straight in, filling her cunt and making her coo with pleasure. She glanced to her right and saw a mirror with her 30GG tits swinging in response to his drive, then starting to sway backwards and forwards in response to his rhythm. She could see him looking too, and she smiled, the view of her swinging tits probably being responsible for his enormously hard cock.

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