Poppy’s asshole was being thoroughly lubed by my husband, spending longer on the task than he often did. I mean, sometimes for submissive sodomy, he deliberately under-lubes to really emphasise our submission. But not this time, he was deliberate, methodical, precise, thorough, and Rose stepped forward to lube his cock whilst he was paying minute attention to Poppy’s asshole.
And with his cock reasonably hard, he nudged his glans at her asshole, briefly pushing at it, then releasing. Rose stroked her hair and told her to take his cock in her asshole like the slut she really is, and in that moment, his glans popped through Poppy’s pucker. She sucked air in as if in shock, her sucking in as much air as her asshole sucked in his cock, but Rose told her she was a Good Girl and Good Girls get their assholes properly skewered, properly penetrated. Still stroking Poppy’s hair, Rose watched as my husband pushed in little by little, Poppy gasping as he pushed in and gasping as he grew.
And as my husband’s cock grew, Rose reminded Poppy just how many cocks would fuck her asshole over this weekend, just how many growing throbbing cumming cocks would fill and stretch her asshole. Poppy was still gasping, scared at the prospect of all those ass fucks, yet still reassured by her friend’s stroking, her asshole still filled by a rapidly hardening cock, and then she felt his balls on her ass cheeks. He was all the way in, and my god she felt full. Her asshole had never been so full. She was almost sobbing, yet did nothing to stop the ass fuck. She knew if she didn’t take it, this would all be over, her taking Rose’s place over the summer would be all over, and she couldn’t have that.
And then he drew out a little and pushed back in. Still deliberate, still slow, still careful. Poppy had seen Rose and Helen earlier have proper full speed hard slamming ass fucks, and that is why she was a tad scared, why she was almost sobbing. She knew he’d get to that with her asshole. Gentle would only get her so far. But she was that Good Girl they spoke about. She’d take it. Even if she was a crying wreck, even if it hurt, she’d take it.
Of course, she was already past the worst part, the entry, and that only stung just a little. That was fine. He pushed against her body, lifting her body off the work surface to ensure he was all the way in. Her eyes got a little moist, she gritted her teeth and started accepting more regular strokes, firm strokes, even slams as he drove in and then pulled out.
Rose never stopped stroking her hair, never stopped reassuring her, as my husband speeded up strokes and slammed in more and more. Her mascara was starting to run now, but we all knew that meant it was a good ass fuck. Her make-up would be wrecked at the end of this, just like her asshole. At least that’s what we told her, and with moist eyes, she looked over her shoulder at my husband and told him to slam harder, to get bigger, to go faster, to fuck her asshole like it was his last, to give her a chance to prove she was a Good Girl.
Rose stepped away from her hair to re-lube my husband’s cock whilst still fucking, as he grabbed a couple of handfuls of Poppy’s long blonde hair and almost used it to pull her asshole onto his cock. Poppy was a little teary now, but egging him on and he slammed hard, fast, long, deep.
And then, in an instant, all signs of tears disappeared, and her face was one of shock, one of amazement, and we all guessed what it meant, she could feel an orgasm start to build. With nothing touching her cunt, an orgasm was swelling. On reflex, I said she was about to cum, and my husband, with a big grin on his face, kept an impeccable rhythm, rubbing the inside of her asshole with his glans until she came, a hard, long, loud orgasm, which made no difference to him at all.
He didn’t slow pace, didn’t even acknowledge her orgasm at all. For the first time, she felt strangely both irrelevant and the centre of things. She’d get used to that eventually. Once she had finished shuddering with that orgasm, he lifted her body off the work surface by her tits, and twisting them, using them to ensure each plough was as deep as possible. For she knew, like he did, that he was struggling to hold on, and her trash-talking mouth only reduced the time he could fend off the inevitable.
And with her squeezing down on his cock with her asshole, he didn’t last much longer, her suddenly feeling squirt after squirt of liquid deposited in her asshole. She’d done it. She’d taken a long hard ass fuck, and Poppy knew it was the first of many, but she felt she showed she was the girl for the job.
With her asshole emptied of cock, she sat down, not clearing her asshole of the mess it was externally, not tidying her mascara up. I went over to her, and told her how beautiful she looked with streaming mascara and I kissed her hard, with tongues, and she kissed hard back. I groped her tits whilst I kissed her and she masturbated me a bit, three fingers penetrating my cunt with each stroke. She really was a Good Girl, she really was getting into this.
As my husband sat down, dirty cock still partly hard, the women started on round three. Nothing for me for a while, as us old hands weren’t to be fucked that much, and my husband drew first in round four, and that was Ella. He’d fucked her before, both cunt and ass, but was looking forward to it again.
Ella was great, so energetic, and so completely uncaring about minor details like his cock was dirty and had just spent ages up Poppy’s ass. She begged for it, her cunt took it, he rode her hard, and given it was his second fuck, he rode her for a long time. She came once, and after milking every drop of cum out of her, he carried on and forced her to cum again, after a long, long dirty cunt fuck, only this time, her clamping down on his cock finished him off.
Poppy was in awe of all the women, just how hard and how long they fucked for, but she was particularly in awe of Rose, her best friend who has become a fuck toy to a whole gaggle of men, and Ella, who fucked like a possessed demon. But Rose pointed out to her that she’d soon enough be a fuck toy too, soon enough be happy to take a dirty cock like Ella, soon enough be used by every man there, and more than once too.
Ella had experience of their fucking, Poppy had none, and yet she was so quickly learning. Helen sat talking to her about it as Tanya licked Poppy’s cunt out and I licked Helen’s. That was learning for Poppy too.
My husband fed Poppy his cock, still dirty from her own asshole, still sticky from Ella’s cum, and Poppy could taste both. Such a head fuck for her.
And then, for her next fuck, Rose’s husband fucked Poppy’s cunt with his dirty cock, dirty from Helen’s asshole. Poppy felt so dirty, so debased, so demeaned, and yet so alive, so sexy, so thoroughly and deservedly fucked.
And for her next fuck, she drew the farm hand, she had her first breeding, and she had nothing like it before. She was feeling quebased and demeaned before that, but he so added to those feelings with his hard yet matter of fact fuck, his milking of her hanging tits, his ignoring of her orgasms, his commentary about her breeding, and his unfeeling, professional manner. She was addicted to being bred, just like I was, and that was a good job, as there was a lot of breeding in her near future, as there was in mine.
These were the first head fucks of many. These were the first ass fucks of many. These were the first dirty cunt fucks of many. Poppy had arrived, and was loving it. Free-use 2.0 was in full swing, and Rose was heading off in a few weeks, so Poppy would be a full time slut then. She couldn’t wait. Neither could we all.
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