The Sex Lives of KinkyMira and Friends

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

Tag: #Mira (Page 11 of 26)

Centenary Orgy

6 November 2022 /

I was starting to get really excited. I had been planning this for months, especially to celebrate my blogging centenary. I always planned to have a massive sex party to celebrate the half-centenary, but fate intervened and that didn’t happen. So, many months ago, I decided that we had to have a party this time.

But, as we got nearer to the hundredth post, my thoughts began to change a little. I realised that what I really wanted to do was to celebrate the amazing women that have appeared in this blog, women who all love sex, who embrace orgasms, who really go for it sexually (even if they aren’t really sure how things might work out), and who defy the stereotypes or societal norms meant to keep women in their place (sexually or otherwise).

In this blog so far, we’ve named twelve women, some I don’t know, many I do, some from recent times, some longer ago. But all the women mentioned here are amazing, because of their attitudes, because of their love of sex and sexual adventure, and because they are, for the most part, up for giving things a try. This blog is fundamentally about women, and so it does seem fitting that the centenary post is about women too.

For the most-part, the men referred to here are part of the women’s stories, and in making the posts about the women, I somewhat (and a little deliberately) downplay the men. I wanted to maintain this female focus, as so much of what is out there is about and aimed at men; I wanted something to be about us.

That having been said, there is one man whose story is intricately woven into this blog. I never intended to have stories of women my husband fucked, women I’ve never met, but a lot of the stories seemed to fit my female viewpoint of the blog. So, you are reading more of my husband’s story than I ever intended, and therefore, I think it wouldn’t be appropriate to exclude him from the centenary celebration altogether.

Over a few weeks, a plan coalesced into view, a plan centred around and staring the women, but with a small, sustained part for my husband, a part that he would never forget.

This very special party happened a couple of weekends ago. It was an all-girl party (apart from the cameo from my husband), where anything between the women went; masturbation, oral, strap-ons, tits, asses, cunt, whatever. The only request I made of each and every woman was that if they came, they wouldn’t hold back. They’d just take full advantage of the other wonderful women in attendance, all willingly, all in fun, all with love, all for the O. I guess I was thinking orgy, where anyone was game for anything with anyone.

And this is where it was quite an ask, because a number of the women didn’t actually know anyone else there in reality, only from the pages of the blog (although I can tell you now that some people there haven’t even been published in the blog yet).

If I’m honest, I’m amazed some of these wonderful women accepted the invitation, given what was expected of them. They are kinky bitches the lot of them, getting kinkier all the time. All the women were naked below the waist for the entire evening, and then totally naked for the second half. Nakedness in front of women in a social setting was a freedom that some were enjoying for the first time. I loved seeing so many beautiful cunts all on display, totally without shame and not a single attempt to hide anything. It was a beautiful liberating expression of womanhood, and one I will remember for a long time.

And I loved what we got up to, the sheer joy of sharing our sexual voyages with other women, of women (one had never been with another woman) allowing themselves to be taken to sexual crescendo with enthusiasm and without doubt or shame. There was so much bodily contact, including groping and pawing of tits and intimate and intrusive examinations of cunts and assholes. There was an abundance of masturbation, either solo or each other, singly and in groups. There were even a number of strap-ons deployed for use on cunt and asshole, with an astonishing amount of lube consumed in the process. Amazing women doing amazing things in the pursuit of amazing orgasms.

Not one of the women shied away from any of this: every single one joining in with making others cum as well as themselves. It was a delight, a visual feast. We even shared my husband’s cum loads directly from the cunt involved. That was a total joy too.

But of course, this wasn’t all about him. We had a chart to ensure that all the women got a fair share and to sample everyone, but that wasn’t really needed. The action came thick and fast, and the visual feat of all these orgasms from all these cunts kept everyone near the edge all the time. Without needing to resort to the chart, each woman masturbated and masturbated others, their cunts were licked out and they licked out others, their ass cracks were licked down and assholes teased, and returning the favour, and their tits were sucked on, pulled, squeezed and generally worked to maintain arousal.

All in all, it was an amazing night, and one totally suitable to celebrate one hundred posts on this blog. For one of the women there, it was her first lesbian experience, and given the enthusiasm of her tongue, the abandon with which she orgasmed and the eagerness with which she tried things with a woman, it certainly won’t be her last.

For some of the women involved, it was the first such party, and as such, their counts of connecting sexually with other females took a major increase.

What was particularly magnificent was those that had not met anyone else at the party (apart from my husband, but he was hardly in a position to help) came and just got their cunts out and joined in wholeheartedly. I could not have expected more, and yet they delivered. What totally wonderful, determined and up for anything women they are. I suspect it won’t be the last time I get to taste their cunts too; if the party is anything to go by, they seem to have acquired a taste for it. What a dream situation I’m in at the moment. I’m so lucky to have access to the magnificent cunts of so many wonderful women, and I really can’t get enough.

And then, there was my husband’s cameo. A small yet important part in proceedings for the women, and yet a fully immersive experience for him, crossing off one of the few items on his list that he has yet to do. When you read about his cameo in the next blog post, it is important to remember that some of the women in the room had never done anything like this before. Stage fright could have curtailed their involvement, but it didn’t happen, and all the women took a full part with him. And he’ll never forget it. The women probably won’t either, but a centenary party that introduces people to new things, that changes their lives forever and that creates memories that will never fade is a perfect way to celebrate.

Here’s to the next one hundred blog posts (and the next few cunts I get to taste!)

My Kinky Lass Gets Her Bright Red Ass

14 July 2022 /

So, there I was, bent over his lap, bearing my near white ass to the world in close proximity to his right hand. I could hardly believe it – I was craving being spanked, and I planned for that first proper spanking to be right now. With the framed Dish Duty in view, I was eagerly awaiting feeling his hand making contact with my ass.

But instead, I heard his soothing voice, telling me to stay as quiet as possible when being spanked; no words and ideally no groans or yelps either – just focus on the sounds of implement and ass, and the sensations within my ass. That would be hard – I’m pretty vocal usually, but I didn’t want to disappoint him.

After his words concluded, the wait seemed like hours. I’m sure it wasn’t long at all, and then it happened. A high velocity strike with his hand on my right buttock. It felt nice. A sharp sting followed by a warm sensation. I muffled a yelp. A second and third strike followed, before he switched to my left buttock for its three. He followed with another four to each side, each with similar power.

These were no play spanks; these were proper full-strength strokes with his hand. After seven on each cheek, he rubbed my ass with his right hand and stroked my hair with his left, as he asked me how I was feeling. Very happy. Slightly delirious. Ready for more. He obliged with a further three high powered strokes to each cheek, focussing on what was his favourite spanking location of up and under the lower part of the ass, the sweet spot he called it.

Then he picked up the paddle and rubbed the paddle backwards and forwards across my stinging cheeks. This seemed to distribute the warmth across my cheeks and was quite soothing. Whilst he did this, he told me I was doing well with my noise, but that it would be harder with the paddle and therefore I really needed to focus on my noise and on the paddle.

I felt the rubbing of the paddle stop and the paddle leave my cheeks and then make contact with my cheeks very quickly. It was the soft side, but it was a hard stroke and it did sting and I did make a muffled yelp.

Of course, the paddle strikes both cheeks at the same time, so there is an intensity shift from his hand. Intensity is also higher because the area hitting each cheek is smaller, but more even than his hand.

He used the soft side twice more across both cheeks, and he checked me again, before applying three more slightly lower down my ass. Then he paddled me twice with the hard side of the paddle up and under to the sweet spot before finishing off with two more with the soft side on the same spot.

My eyes filled with tears as the two hard strokes happened. They hurt, and it was a real fight not to scream out. There is something different about the sweet spot, and the strokes there were amazing. I could totally see why he focusses on it. Those two hard strokes were almost overwhelming.

With those hard strokes, I knew I could recreate Dish Duty, with some practice. I have a fairly high tolerance to pain, but the sharp stings of each stroke still gained my attention, and the throb of my ass was pleasurable, if not slightly serene.

He felt that was enough for my first time, and he suggested I admire my ass. As I did so, he took a photo if it (something I always did when I spanked his ass). I was very satisfied, but my ass was disappointingly only a little pink.

It was whilst I was standing there that I realised just how far from Dish Duty I really was. My poor ass would need to take quite a spanking and paddling before I got anywhere near to the picture. But I was determined to recreate it and fill that picture frame, so at that moment, I decided the fate of my poor defenceless ass.

Before I could get up, I felt his left hand on my lower back gently pinning me down and his right hand drifted down from my ass to my cunt, which was very slick with sticky juices. My cunt gave away just how much I enjoyed that. He started working my cunt with his fingers, running a fingernail across my clit, and I was bucking and braying in seconds. He did that twice more, including the last time holding me right on the edge of orgasm for a good couple of minutes. That last orgasm was huge, and I was exhausted at the end of it. As I sucked my juices off his fingers, I smiled at the thought of many spankings still to come, both him and me.

Over the next few months, I was spanked regularly, increasing both the number of strokes and the type. I soon learned that the quickest way to redden my ass was to use the hard side of the paddle, so I asked my husband to focus on that. A few warm up swats with his hands and the soft side, then focus on the hard side. As he got more practiced, he was able to improve his aim. Whilst for redness, strokes all over the ass are required, but his focus on my sweet spot is what really made me cum. He became quite adept at hitting my sweet spot over and over again, with alarming accuracy.

Of course, the joy of spanking is that I get to spank him too. He prefers to have a lot of softer strokes rather than fewer harder ones, yet on a practical level, I’m not really able to do that many strokes before my arm hurts. So, with a degree of inevitability, he had to progress onto harder strokes too. I almost exclusively focus on his sweet spot now, as he is less interested in the all over spankings and redness of his entire ass like I am.

Something else I have perfected is working on his cock with my left hand whilst spanking his ass with my right. He has very little control when I do this, and he seems to cum multiple times when I work on him in this way. I have also found that if we are fucking, and he starts to go soft, a few swift clips with the paddle (often whilst his cock is still in me) restores structural integrity for his cock and gets him going again. I call the paddle “my remote control”.

Spanking is a whole new world of kink, and one I’m massively enjoying. My ass has never been red enough to recreate the picture, and once my thighs have reduced in size a little, I will get there, I will recreate Dish Duty (only without the panties, as they really aren’t me) and he will have the picture on his office wall next to the original and my statement. This kinky lass does indeed crave a bright red ass and gets one quite often!

My Kinky Lass Craves A Bright Red Ass

28 June 2022 /

Some of the spankings I have described in the blog are a long way from where I started. I wouldn’t contemplate spanking at all until I got with my now-husband, a result of being terrorised by threats from my parents as a child.

During one of our late-night fantasy chats, my husband spoke about spanking. In his fantasy, he loved it (both giving and receiving). In his fantasy, he didn’t wield his paddle or hand for control, he did so for fun and love, and in his fantasy, so did I.

It was that night I opened up to him about why I hated spanking. He cuddled me as I sobbed in his arms. I had come a long way, but sometimes, my past still spikes the present. He didn’t want to upset me, so he said he’d leave it as a fantasy.

But I wasn’t prepared to leave it. If I left it, I let the ghosts of the past win. So, a few days later, we were cuddling in bed, and I brought spanking up. I had questions, but most of all, I wanted to know why he wanted to try it. He spoke about erotic stories he read online, that talked about a close connection that came out of spanking. Like with most kinks, these stories came with a good dose of control or punishment, but as we don’t do power, he thought our spanking would be another close connection filled with love. On top of this close connection, he liked the idea of a glowing red ass, radiating heat and very pleasing on the eye.

He also found the idea of someone not being tied up, just lying there and taking a hard spanking or paddling very erotic. The fact that they could choose to get up and leave but choose not to was a mega-turn-on.

He grabbed a tablet and showed me his favourite piece of erotic art. It is an animated image called Dish Duty and depicts a woman bent over a sink, with a bright red ass and cunt on display. I can instantly see why he loves the picture. As well as being exquisitely drawn, it is such a multi-faceted picture. It would be very easy to see control or abuse in that picture, but that isn’t what I saw. What I saw was love and contentment – a happy woman carrying on with daily life despite an extremely hard spanking. She seems content, she seems happy. Her panties are around her knees, indicating that she was spanked there, and has carried on with the washing up after. I think he could see some of me in her, including her mid-back length blonde hair, her happiness to display her cunt and I love being fucked bent over the sink with my tits dipping in the water. Yes, that is a very good choice for a favourite piece of erotic art.

After I had finished taking in the breath-taking image, I cuddled up to my husband, and as often did, I ended up kissing him with one of his hands on my ass. I whispered in his ear to slap my ass once. I was expecting a short crisp clip, but it was somewhat more than that. It was quite a high velocity impact with his hand. I kissed him and got out of bed to look at my ass in the mirrors. There was a faint but clear hand print on my ass, with fingers splayed apart. We were both admiring it and my husband photographed it, but I told my husband not to do that again unless I asked.

But I didn’t hate it. I didn’t recoil. The terror didn’t show up. As I went to sleep, my ass was still stinging. I felt happy. I had the first inkling of why people like spanking. I drifted off thinking of the woman in Dish Duty and imagining myself as her.

A few weeks later, we were playing around, and my husband ended lying across my lap with his ass in easy reach of my hand. I didn’t give it much thought; I just raised my hand and gave his ass a good crisp spank. He looked at me and smiled, wiggling his ass as he did. I spanked him a second, a third, a fourth time. I stopped at 24 spanks (according to his sex log). My hand was stinging, yet it was clear he was eager for more.

The following morning after he had gone to work, I ordered our purple satin paddle. I figured that I would be able to do more strokes with a paddle than with my hand. A couple of weeks later, I got him over my lap again, with his ass up, and then I produced the paddle. His eyes nearly popped out of his head. I only used the soft side for his first paddling and got up to about 30 before I called time. I was still nervous about overdoing things, but he clearly loved it. Over the following months, I quickly increased to 60 strokes, with a few of the hard side. It turns out he much prefers a high number of strokes from the soft side than fewer with the hard side. I did my best to oblige.

But amongst all this spanking fun, I couldn’t get Dish Duty out of my head. You see, over time, I realised that I really wanted to be her. I wanted to be someone who was spanked with love, with devotion. I wanted to be the person with the ass so red that it would take days for the stinging to wear off. I wasn’t sure if reality would be like my fantasy, but I was becoming more and more certain I wanted to find out.

So, I bought three picture frames to give to him. In one, I put a print of that picture, and in another identical frame, I wanted to put something about me. I left a third one to put an actual picture of me recreating Dish Duty, with a bright red spanked ass.

I knew my husband liked the phrase “a well-behaved lass has a bright red ass”, although he wasn’t keen on the behaviour and control bits. I started playing around with the words before lass, starting with “a kinky lass”, before realising that to be specifically about me, it should be “my kinky lass”. A good start, but “has” wasn’t appropriate, as at the time, I never had. I mused with “wants” and “needs” before settling on “craves”, a much stronger sentiment more in keeping with how I felt.

He opened Dish Duty first and loved it, he opened my words second, and you could see the excitement in his eyes. He opened the third frame, in which I had put a piece of paper that said “Reserved for my eventual recreation of Dish Duty.” He had a big smile on his face, but I didn’t say anything; I just produced our paddle (around which I had tied a bow), I rearranged him on the chaise and bent over his lap, bearing my near white ass to the world in close proximity to his right hand.

I could hardly believe it. I was craving being spanked, and here I was bearing my poor ass in the hope that I was about to receive my first proper spanking.

A Pair Of Tupperwhores (Part Two)

11 May 2022 /

It was the last fuck of the week, and one I knew would truly break my poor body. I had been feeling quite good ass-fucking Sara, but that motion always takes it out of me, and I end up exhausted and somewhat broken.

And it was in that already broken state that I began being prepared for my first airtight experience. I had stupidly decided to have Sara’s husband do a brutal face fuck on me, as well as have my husband’s cock in my asshole (where it seems to get unfeasibly large and hard) and then Sara (who was still fairly broken) wielding a strap-on into my cunt and forcing the wand on my clit. My clit was already fairly used up from the repeated orgasms and rubbing of the strap-on whilst I was fucking Sara, so I had no idea if it would cope. All in all, I had set this up in the most extreme way, and I knew I had to take whatever they unleashed on me. I would never forgive myself if I didn’t get to the end.

To give Sara a chance of being able to take an active part in this, I had her laying down on the bed, strap-on pointing straight up and wand in hand. After a little wand play, my cunt moistened, and I slid the strap-on all the way in. I felt so full, and it felt so close to my cervix.

My asshole was being lubed, and very soon, I felt the familiar feeling of my husband’s cock burrowing its way through my pucker and then start growing with comparatively small movements. Then I was presented with Sara’s husband’s only slightly hard cock. I eagerly inhaled it, using my tongue over the head and sucking as best as I could. I was already airtight, and my mouth action suddenly produced a hardening of his cock. I felt his hands grasp either side of my head and I knew the brutal face fuck was mere seconds away. Sara was pawing at my tits and had the wand on full power, my husband was increasing the speed of him ploughing into my asshole, his motions making the strap-on slide in and out of my cunt as well.

And then her husband began, his cock getting harder, the end hitting the back of my mouth as he grew. My mouth was salivating as he got up speed, the end of his cock driving its way into my top of my throat at each stage. Now I knew why she had a tear in her eye when he face-fucked her, and now, mere millimetres from her face, her husband’s cock was brutally penetrating my mouth, and I’d use the word brutal about the forceful application of the wand to my clit too, and you all know how big my husband’s cock gets in an asshole and how unrelenting he is.

Repeating what I liked from my earlier DP, the men managed to sync up their rhythms and Sara soon got the idea, so as well as all the other sensations, I got the fantastically full to frustratingly empty feeling with every stroke.

I have no idea how long this went on for. The feelings of rolling orgasm, degradation, general misuse, and the full knowledge that this was far from over quickly got too much. I started drifting off into a trance-like state, aware of what was going on, but totally overwhelmed and overwashed with emotion and feelings, as yet again, my husband’s cock stretched the width of my asshole, Sara’s husband’s cock ploughed into my throat and Sara roughly kneaded my tits, moved the dildo in my cunt and held the wand to my much-abused clit, I knew that I needed to hang on. I wanted this. I’d set it up to be this hard. My body needed to cash the cheques my mouth wrote.

And then I remembered this was their second airtight of the day, so the men would have a lot more stamina, and they managed to use up Sara, so I stood no chance.

My appreciation of time drifted away under the relenting rhythm of their respective motions. I felt like I couldn’t cum any more, and yet again and again, Sara got orgasm after orgasm out of my rapidly emptying shell.

I think my brain had trouble keeping up with what was happening to my body, the sensations, the things happening to multiple parts of my body all at the same time; the stretching, the rhythm, the power, the drive, the rubbing simultaneously completely overwhelmed my senses, and I spent most of the time in a blurry daze of stimulation, lust and orgasm, none of which I had any control of.

The first I knew that this was heading towards the end was being awoken from my daze by the men talking to each other about holding back their orgasms. I had no control. I felt like my holes were being used by them and I was merely a passenger. That was the degradation and I’m so pleased to have felt it, and I definitely want to feel again.

It felt like as they were holding back, but Sara was accelerating her efforts, the dildo really fucking my cunt and the wand pressing into my abused clit harder than ever.

And then amongst shouts, the men came, my husband spewing cum into my well-used asshole and Sara’s husband pumping a ridiculously large amount of cum into my mouth. He carried on the motion, so some of the cum was in the front of my mouth and some was forced down my throat by him jamming his glans into my throat. It felt like just another indignity, another piece of degradation. He was good at this, and I loved it.

After his cock has stopped spurting and it shrunk out of my mouth, he pinched my nose, forcing me to swallow, before just walking away. I felt my husband pull out and lift me off Sara, and putting me down next to her, just leaving me in a heap, alone, sticky, sore in a number of places, exhausted and slightly delirious. I did feel abused and degraded, but in a good way, the total lack of control over the encounter, together with the overwhelming combination of individual elements that would make me cum, turned me into an orgasming jelly, my body doing what it was forced to do by those working on it.

I can totally understand why Sara likes the brutal face fuck. It is somewhat out of character for her husband, and the feelings of degradation only add to the experience. The face fuck made me feel quite owned and abused and add that to feeling full in all three holes, it is pretty amazing. I did realise that this was only so good because of the clear love of those involved. In other circumstances, this would be a nasty abusive situation, but because of the love and respect, it was a brilliant event.

But far from feeling bad, I felt content and satisfied by being a Tupperwhore, and I was left wondering what it would be like to be ploughed by three real cocks and to have a woman or two working my tits and clit. One day, we’ll find another couple and try it. One day.

A Pair Of Tupperwhores (Part One)

26 April 2022 /

It is interesting how some words affect the psyche, how some words can have a positive affect at some times and a negative one at others. For years, I hated the word whore. The judgement, the venom with which it is often said, not to mention the misogyny, all added to my very negative view of the word. A previous lover called it to me in the throes of passion and I literally leapt off him and ran for the hills. It was only some years later that I realised I should have had the same reaction for slut and bitch, but I didn’t, even though those terms are laced with the same venom and misogyny. In fact, I love Slut, I have a Slut necklace made of stainless steel that I wear out occasionally and I have custom temporary tattoos that say Slut (and Bitch as well).

My reaction to whore made no sense to me, and yet it persisted for a long time, even after working out about bitch and slut, whore didn’t exactly put me in a sexy mood. But over time, and with some persistence, my husband started making progress. I remember one time I was so close to yet another orgasm with Victoria’s brutal wand held hard against my clit, and he tried to make me say I was an “Orgasm-loving whore”. I wasn’t much inclined to do so, and so he got me so close to orgasm, then with a flourish, he took the wand away and clipped away at my clit with a riding crop. The effect was to just drop my orgasm away. Bastard – I needed that orgasm. But then he started again, unrelenting wand until I was close, and I still wouldn’t say it, so my clit had the riding crop again. By this point, I was angry because I knew he was only doing what I’d asked him to, and I was raging because I felt there was no way in hell I was going to give in to him, and a part of me also knew I would say it.

I don’t know why, but I resisted for another two cycles, but eventually, inevitably, I yelled that I was an orgasm-loving whore, that his little whore needed her orgasm and began begging, but the orgasm induced by the vicious wand took over and I was shaken all over with a massive orgasm.

The strange thing was that I felt just as good proclaiming I was an orgasm-loving whore, and I did with anything about being a slut or bitch. I did feel great.

My acceptance and use of the word whore has only been enhanced by the word Tupperwhore, which is a great word and amuses me no end.

It is used to describe a woman who enjoys being airtight, that is a woman that enjoys having all three orifices (ass, pussy and mouth) being filled at the same time by a combination of cocks and dildos.

After a few days of trying various combinations of men both penetrating us at the same time, Sara and I decided to finish the week with a two-cock one-dildo version of airtight. That’s right; we decided to become Tupperwhores.

And it was to be our last fucks of the week, so I decided (probably madly) that I wanted the degrading face fuck as part of my airtight session. Sara thought I was bonkers and wasn’t prepared to risk it.

But even without that, we thought airtight would be totally mind-blowing and overwhelming. We tossed a coin and she won, meaning she would be first through. In a lot of ways, I was pleased, as I expected to be totally trashed at the end of it. I had longer to anticipate that brutal face fuck combined with the double-sided fuck I first had, all whilst watching my friend and lover get airtight herself some hours before.

First, she had to choose who was fucking what, and she took a combination that I thought would be pretty overwhelming; namely my husband on the face fuck (he’d been getting tips but was nowhere near the intensity or degradation her husband achieved), my strap-on up her ass and her husband’s cock in her cunt, also with him wielding the wand against her clit.

As I was preparing her asshole, the two cocks and my strap-on, she was focussing on calming down from her overexcited state, with a load of deep breathing and relaxation techniques. She was all too aware of just what an ordeal her body was about to go through, but she was so looking forward to the mix of pleasure, endurance, degradation, misuse and above all, orgasm after orgasm.

She was ready. Everything was as lubed as it needed to be. And the three bees buzzed around their soon-to-be victim.

Sara’s husband lay on the bed, hard cock in one hand and wand in the other. She climbed on top of him and lowered her cunt on to his cock. As she slid all the way down, she felt the head of the wand nestled against her clit, awaiting it to be turned on. Next, I nudged the lubed strap-on against her ass pucker and gently rocked until she let it in. I gently slid it all the way in, then started tiny rocking movements the same as her husband was whilst they awaited my husband going into her mouth.

He put his glans to her lips, and she could immediately taste pre-cum. Being rather addicted to that taste, she opened her mouth and sucked him in, wrapping her tongue round his cock to clear his precum for her to swallow.

From that moment, she was a Tupperwhore, as the two real cocks in her cunt and mouth began moving more and more, and even I, with my body feeling quite good, began driving the strap-on deeply into her asshole. She was sucking on my husband’s cock, whilst it was fucking her mouth, as her husband and I alternated driving into and out of her lower body. I was orgasming pretty freely as the end of the strap-on rubbed on my uncovered clit, and she was cumming over and over, as the relentless pace, plus the unyielding buzz of the wand on her clit, brought her to climax repeatedly and mercilessly. I was zoning out in my orgasm-filled haze, concentrating solely on keeping the rhythm up into her asshole. I became aware that the men were struggling to stop themselves cumming again, and this is where I remembered I’d pay the price later, as they would have much more stamina. What had I done?!

But the men were back to talking each other out of cumming, as the poor ragdoll under us just kept taking the invasions and cumming herself to oblivion. Every stroke more felt to me like it was too much for her, and yet she kept hanging on, until in a howl of noise, the two men came in quick succession, with me and Sara cumming shortly afterwards. In a masterpiece of timing, we all came in a short period and then we collapsed into a drained and exhausted heap.

After a quiet few moments in that heap, my husband pulled me off her, pulled the strap-on out of her asshole, removed it and the harness and laid me on the bed and Sara’s husband carried her and put her next to me in her used up state. We both had to rest for a few hours, because it was soon to be my turn. Sara slept; she was that used up. I didn’t sleep. I was way too excited to sleep, but I did need to rest my body in preparation for the onslaught ahead.

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