The Sex Lives of KinkyMira and Friends

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

Tag: Touching

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.

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

1 May 2026 / / 2 Comments

Here we were, five free-use couples loaded in a mini-van, for a three hour trip to a remote cottage. As yet, Helen and her husband had not taken part in any free-use. This trip was the start, this trip would change them forever, particularly Helen. Free-use has fundamentally changed all of us women, and the men to some degree. She was next.

Her life had already changed a little. Ever since the day after they agreed to join, Helen’s husband has been giving her Submissive Sodomy, that deep penetrating anal where the woman is not allowed to cum. In fact, on a few days, he’s given it to her twice, one first thing, one mid-afternoon. “Because she needed it.” Whilst she disagreed at the time, she later accepted that he was probably right, and she vowed to take as much Submissive Sodomy as any of the men wanted to give her. She might regret saying that.

She had also lost her panties, her husband distributing them between the free-use men, to get the men hyped up and wanting to fuck her, and to make sure she wasn’t able to wear them again. Like the four existing women, pantyless was expected, was required, was normal. Like the four existing women, her panties would end up being mostly sold.

In the mini-van on the way, the women got all handsy and kissy with the other women, each one of us taking the opportunity to get a first passionate snog with Helen, to grope those magnificent tits and to tease by touching her cunt, aided by her pantyless state. She was enjoying the attention, and she knew, when we got to the cottage, that she’d have all five cocks soon enough.

We all knew this weekend would be hard for her. She would be going from a fuck or two a day from her husband, to a load of cock over and over. As she was the new girl, she’d be centre of attention for everybody, and so whilst the rest of us would get ourselves fucked, she would have by far the most, she would have to endure more sex than she’d ever had over a short period. And she was so up for it. I was first to touch her cunt and it was dripping already. She would so fit right in!

The cottage was wonderful, beautiful both inside and out, remote with no other property in sight, with the nearest road so far away you could barely see the building from it, let alone that there may be naked people fucking outside it, isolated enough we could fuck outside without care or worry, and we would be fucking outside it, we women would be mostly naked when we were there, we would absolutely make the most of the isolation, and as there were five couples and only two double beds, we’d be sharing beds as well as husbands and wives.

When we arrived, we unloaded the van and then took Helen straight onto the patio. We stripped her of her sun dress and had first sight of her wonderful dripping cunt. She was immaculately waxed, freshly done the night before, and after this weekend, my husband would take over waxing duties for her, the lady she has waxing her now is about to leave the area, so the timing was perfect for her.

Her bra was removed, revealing those gorgeous swinging 38H tits, increased in size over the years by having two children, and she was rotated to allow a good view of her ass, she was bent over to accentuate her ass and open her cunt a little between her legs, there for long enough for everyone to take a look. She was then arranged face up on a padded wicker chair, with her legs spread over the arms, bringing her cunt to the fore and even opening it a little for the crowd. She was in this position when my husband formally welcomed them to the free-use lifestyle and asked, for the record, whether they each gave consent for what was about to happen, both now and into the future. They did, eagerly did, and with that, each of the men, including her husband, inspected her cunt, ass and tits, a close precise gentle examination of the new piece of meat they had acquired. All of us women had such an examination, and periodically do again, but the men (including her husband) discussing her cunt, ass and tits as if she wasn’t there, was quite demeaning, and quite exciting for her.

They noted how wet her cunt was already, and it had barely been touched, and her husband said her clit was quite swollen, unusually so.

And with that, without moving Helen from her exposed position, her second husband, Tanya’s husband, got his cock out and fed it into her mouth, where she eagerly put her hands to it, one round his shaft, one squeezing his balls, her mouth being mega slurpy as she eagerly got him hard.

He withdrew when he was hard enough, her mouth briefly staying an empty O shape, but he soon lined up with her cunt (with the aid of a chair cushion or two) and just drove his cock into her slick cunt. She reared up, returning back to position to find another cock by her mouth. She opened wide and eagerly took that, and Anna and I roughly grabbed a tit each and started working it, whilst I looked Helen right in the eyes (when she wasn’t doing eye contact with Rose’s husband, whose cock she was sucking), and with a smile, I just said “Welcome to free-use, you slut”. She sort of smiled, best she could do with a mouth still full of cock.

Rose’s husband eventually removed his hard cock from her mouth, and he came and grabbed me, spun me round and bent me over, opening my legs just enough to put his hard cock between them and into my cunt and started slowly fucking, just as Tanya’s husband was, and one by one, the rest of the men’s cocks were made hard by Helen’s mouth, and then penetrated the cunts of their second wives.

After about twenty minutes of slow penetration, the men, talking to each other to synchronise their efforts, all changed position and accelerated, making sure each of us women were brought to orgasm at roughly the same time, and because they made us wait, because they edged us all, the orgasms were massive each time, a combination of fucking outdoors, the visuals of group fucking and of Helen’s examination, the new couple taking part in the fucking, and the excitement in the air.

And after the women came, and came again, the men came, each one nearly pulling out to deposit their loads of sticky cum just inside their cunts and then each actual wife was fed the cock of their husband, each wife tasting the cunt of the second wife on the cocks in their mouths. (I think we all knew that would be a regular occurrence from now on.) Helen got her first taste of Rose’s cunt. Off her husband’s cock. And it tasted divine, she couldn’t wait to taste it herself.

And Helen knew what cum being so shallow in her cunt meant, that she, like the rest of us, would be having cum sliding out of her cunt all through dinner. The restaurant was booked, Helen just threw her outer clothes on (the rest of us were fucked in our clothes), and smelling of sex, with dripping sloppy cunts, we left for food.

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.

Changing Thoughts On Consent

14 July 2019 /

Prior to being with my now husband, I very much believed in the strict implementation of consent. You know, fresh consent every time, no blanket, long-term, advance, or enduring consents can be given, you can’t consent when you are drunk (by definition), all that.

So, the night we got together, on about the fourth time he snogged me, he cupped my clothed breast as he leant in. In other circumstances, I might have objected, but I was so desperate for his touch. I had realised I wanted him a few months before, and I was so glad that he finally touched me even slightly sexually, and I was keen to encourage him. I had known him for a number of years before we got together, and in that time, he was the perfect gentleman. Never an inappropriate touch or word.

I also know from discussions before we got together that he was very aware of consent issues and was normally over cautious. I didn’t want him to be over cautious, I wanted him to touch me sexually without concern for whether I wanted it. I did want it. Whatever he wanted, I’d do it. Five seconds after our first kiss I’d have fucked him if he had wanted.

He left his hand on my breast for a couple of long snogs and a bit of conversation, and then he moved it off, and I was a little disappointed. So, after a short period, I moved his hand back onto my breast, the clearest signal I could give that I wanted it.

And he took the hint and touched my clothed tits and ass regularly over the course of the evening, as well as my hair and face as I looked adoringly at him. It felt so good. From that day to this (with some encouragement in the early days), he touches me a lot, mostly my tits and ass, but he also strokes me, my arms, my hair, my back. And my cunt, oh how he touches my cunt. To this day, his touch is electric and fabulous, and I crave it and miss it when he doesn’t touch me up for some reason. I used to see women getting groped by their men in shops, and I used to think they needed to get some self-respect and claim their bodies back, and now here I was desperate for him to do that to me (and he now often does). I feel like when he touches me publicly, he’s saying, “she’s mine, hands off” and that makes me feel very happy. My views on touching me up have definitely changed.

On the third day we were together, he kept popping round to my place during the day between appointments, and every time he did, I got my tits out for him to play with. (I think the last time I was a little too quick, and therefore would have flashed them at anyone in the street.) I was again encouraging him, making him want me more and feeling his mouth round my nipples and his tongue flicking across them was amazing. I knew he loved my tits from long before we got together, so I knew he would be only too eager to play with them and finally to get to suck on them.

Over the coming weeks, I consistently gave him the blanket consent message to touch me however he pleased and to do whatever he wanted with me. Now obviously on any given occasion, I could have withdrawn consent (even though I never did), but from a consent perspective, I was uneasy. I didn’t believe in blanket and enduring consent, even to someone you are married to, and yet that is exactly what I was doing: not just long-term non-specific consent but encouraging him to take me as he wanted. I was conflicted because I fucking loved the results, and I knew I should have been horrified.

As our relationship blossomed, he started to get more adventurous with me (and all without me explicitly giving consent). When he started putting his hand under my clothes and touching my tits or cunt, far from objecting and as an automatic reaction without giving it a thought, I opened my legs to give him better cunt access or leant forward to allow him to pull up my top and unhook my bra. When he started moving my panties aside to gain better access to my cunt, I encouraged him to work my clit hard. When he started removing my panties all together without asking or checking, I loved how owned it made me feel.

I’m not really sure he realised what he was doing, but he kept gently pushing the blanket consent boundaries, fucking me, and getting kinky with me as he wanted. I should probably have been horrified, but instead, I basked in the warm glow that blanket and enduring consent with him was the best decision I had ever made (often a short-lived feeling that was replaced with the bow wave of an orgasm).

I even told him that I expected him to fuck me when I was ill or drunk. I often want a fuck if I’m drunk, and because the consent situation is difficult if you are drunk, I made sure he knew he was to fuck me if either he or I wanted it. I’m not a very good patient (I get very down), so fucking me when I’m ill is important as it improves my mood and therefore improves my recovery. We sometimes jokingly call a fuck “my medicine” and him cumming in me “an injection”.

It’s not all one way either. I do similar things to him too. I regularly masturbate him to wake him up (before riding him to get his large cock cumming in my cunt). Luckily his cock seems to have a mind of its own, so I get to ride him when he’s ill, and he’s still able to be ridden when he’s a bit drunk (not massively drunk, but given how much he needs his car, he never gets that drunk). I quite often play with his cock and balls when we are cuddling up, or when he’s doing something in the kitchen.

You see, he had no such qualms about consent. For him, from the first time I played with his cock and balls, he made it very clear that I could do whatever I wanted, and we’ve proved that over and over again.

So, my thoughts on consent have definitely changed since being with him. I don’t believe you should hand permanent consent out to just anyone, but where your partner clearly demonstrates over and over again that they look after you and adore you, I have come to the conclusion that blanket and enduring consent is a good thing. I know if I say stop to him, he’ll stop. That’s all I need.

So, in short, I have broken my own rule and given him blanket long-term permission to fuck me whenever, wherever, and however he likes. I love being his plaything, I love not knowing what he’s going to do to me, I love just being used like a slut, often with him taking charge and just doing what he wants.

So, if I’m lying there and he wants to lick my cunt, he’s going to lick my cunt. If he wants to bend me over the arm of the settee and fuck me, he’s going to bend me over the arm of the sofa and fuck me, and I consent to it all, every last touch.

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