I was looking for work when i stepped into a small used/ vintage book store owned by Mr. Davis. He let me work there a few hours a day. We became lovers and did every kind of sex act you could think of. This is my story.
Chapter one – My beginning
I now call myself Sarah, and I am about 18 years old. I say I am called Sarah “now” because I spent most of my years bouncing around from foster home to foster home being called another name. That life is behind me, so I needed a new name. My drug addled mother ended up killing herself by accidentally burning our house down when I was a preschooler, as I have been told. All our family information was lost in the house fire, and I was rescued by firemen just before the flames got to the room where I was sleeping. Thank God for firemen.
So, all the information about me, my birth records, and any items my worthless mother had kept, was lost in the fire. I then went through a dozen or so foster families, who tried to keep me. I was a problem child, to say the least. Since my mother was a druggie, I probably was not conceived with the best genes. No one knows who the father was, since he apparently split the scene right after my mother knew she was pregnant. I am sure we lived in squalid conditions when I was young. But there are no surviving photos or evidence of our lives or that she even existed, except for me. I heard she tried to give me away many times when I was an infant and a toddler, but I really don’t know. It doesn’t matter now anyway. I am supposedly an adult and have started my own life, despite my dubious beginning.
I have lived in women’s shelters, vacant buildings, and with street friends. I am a bit unusual for a street person in the fact that I am a cleanliness nut. I am constantly needing to wash myself, even though I don’t usually have a place to do that. I have learned to use public restrooms, or facilities in stores or businesses that have walk-in traffic. I can wash my hair and entire body in just a few moments in some of those restrooms and can even wash my shirt or pants too if I am lucky. And I know that by current standards, I am an attractive girl. I can tell by the way men look at me that they want me, if only for sex. But the one thing I do not do, is trade my body for a meal or place to stay. I am more clever than that and have talked my way into more free meals or places to crash than any man could….because I am cute.
There are two things that define me as a young woman now. I have a love/hate relationship with pain and I am constantly looking for a Daddy figure to take me in. I guess because my father abandoned me before I was born, and he never gave me a chance to make him love me. I am constantly looking for a substitute Daddy to love me, and I would do anything he wanted. ANYTHING, if I thought he was genuinely interested in me.
My need for validation from a Daddy figure is what ultimately got me kicked out of nearly every foster home. I would slowly try to seduce the father in the family, we’d eventually get caught and I was changed to a different host family. The Foster Care people did not dare reveal my personality quirk to any foster families because it would have killed my chances to be taken in. I tried to curb my desires to make a daddy “love” me, but it never worked. The situation always came up where I was caught sucking my “daddy’s” dick or doing more. Then, I would be banished from that family, and had to start over.
I am intelligent enough to know how to keep myself out of trouble. I rarely steal anything, I don’t overtly cause trouble (except for the “Daddy” figures I routinely seduced), and I rarely let anyone fuck me in the pussy. I know I can get pregnant, and I am not about to be like my birth mother. I learned to give great head when I was a middle schooler and have been taking dicks up the ass since I was an early teenager. Most men like anal sex just as much as fucking a pussy anyway.
I found that if I went into a convenience store or a small restaurant in non-busy times, and ask for temporary work, I sometimes could get a job. I am pretty good at banter, and bullshitting my way into a job, and I am a willing worker. Who wouldn’t be willing to work in an air-conditioned building, stocking shelves or washing dishes? That is such easy work, and I am always up for it. My problem has always been traveling to the job if I was staying in a half-way house 2 hours walking distance away. It is tough to keep a job when you must walk everywhere. One of my early purchases was to buy a bicycle from a resale store for just a few bucks. It opened my world for getting to work. But it was soon stolen by the lowlifes that I was surrounded by. I had to save up again for another bike, and I am guarding this one with my life. And it has made a huge difference to me. Now, when I ride up to a business and ask for work, they think I am just a free spirit, on my bike, making my way through life. Rather than a street bum, willing to work for a day but never show up again.
Chapter two – the bookstore
My employment luck changed when I went into a used/vintage bookstore to ask for work. I spoke to this middle-aged man, Mr. Davis, who I learned later owned the place. I lied and said I loved books and always wanted to work in a place like this. Mr. Davis was very soft spoken, and probably saw through my fake interest in books, but he took pity on me. He said that there was always something that needed to be done in his store. He let me work there a few hours a day as a trial.
I was ecstatic. Here I could work quietly, stay clean, and earn food money. Mr. Davis was a kind person. He showed me how to care for the antique books and package them when they were sold as mail orders. He had me clean the toilet, and his office and keep the place tidy. He knew I was a clean freak so those were great tasks for me.
He had me unpack shipments and put new stock on the shelves. I loved the methodical way that books were organized. It was like living in a world of order where my life had been a world of chaos. I eagerly came to work each day and had to be chased out at closing time. Mr. Davis only paid me for a few hours’ work each day, per our agreement, but I was there full-time anyway. Mr. Davis was single, and never married. He was much too timid to date a woman. He had just learned to live within the walls of his bookstore and within the pages of many of those books. He knew passages verbatim from many of the classic novels that he sold and could be a charming conversationalist, unless it was a woman client who came into the store. He froze up and could not talk to a woman.
Mr. Davis and I became friends, as he began to trust me. I would run errands, even go to the bank or post office for him. He would give me money for sandwiches while I ran his errands, and we would eat together. By this time, I had been working for Mr. Davis for several weeks. I felt I could confide in him and told him a cleaned-up version of my life’s story. He knew that I was currently living in an extra room of a friend, but I could not stay there much longer. He also knew why I sometimes came to work wearing wet clothes because I admitted to him that I had washed them in the sink of the local gas station. One evening he suggested I stay for dinner. His apartment was upstairs, and he planned to roast a chicken. It was too much food for just him, and he thought I would like a home cooked meal. It was during that dinner that I got to really know Mr. Davis. He was a gentle man who was just too quiet and humble to ever approach a woman. I noticed his hesitance on more than one occasion when a female customer came in and ask for a specific book, or gift recommendations. He would freeze up and not be able to say much to her, and it cost him customers and sales. He needed to be dragged out of his shell and I was just the girl to do it. Mr. Davis became my mission. I was going to turn him into a confident man. At the end of that evening, I gave Mr. Davis a big hug and told him he meant a lot to me.
Chapter three – my own place
One day he gave me the task of clearing out an unused storage area on the second floor of the bookstore, which adjoined his apartment. The storage room was full of outdated magazines, old publisher promotional posters, and decades of worthless junk. I jumped at the task and by the end of the day had disposed of all the trash and moved the old junk out of the room. I was exhausted from all the lifting and hauling. He told me “Before you go home, you can use my bathroom to get cleaned up. You don’t need to go to a gas station anymore”. At that moment, I saw something in his face that changed everything.
The next day he said we were going to close the bookstore early. He and I had a joint errand to run. I wondered what he had in mind when we pulled up to the resale store which was down the street from the bookstore. He said he wanted to convert that storage area I had cleaned up into a spare bedroom. And he wanted me to stay there. I was shocked. No one had ever offered anything so thoughtful to me without some ulterior motive. We found a single bed and linens and a few more clothes for me. Together we hauled the stuff to his apartment. I set up the bed and he helped wrestle the mattress up the stairs. He was quite fit for a man who did not do much except look at books and the computer all day. It did not take me long to arrange the few furnishings that were there, but I thought it was a palace. I sat on the bed in silence. Wow, I had my own room. Not having to beg for a place to sleep. This was like heaven to me.
The next several days, I was on cloud nine, as I woke up in my own place and had all my stuff safely with me. I didn’t have to worry if my bicycle would get stolen during the night, or where I could wash before work. The little things that most people do not consider important were my highest priorities. And I had Mr. Davis to thank for it.
A few days after I moved into the “spare bedroom”, a woman came into the bookstore looking for a vintage book for a friend. Mr. Davis did his usual act of freezing up and not really being able to talk to her, so I stepped in. She and I began a conversation about the person she was buying the book for. I roamed the shelves and found a couple of old classics, first edition books that might be nice to give. She loved them and bought them both. Mr. Davis was very happy that I had been able to help the lady and told me to help like that anytime a customer came in. He knew I was a master at finding out what people wanted.
Chapter four - celebration
That night, Mr. Davis said, “We should celebrate your first sale”. He opened a bottle of wine and we toasted ourselves for being a great team. He had the store full of books and I had the personality to sell them. I am not much of a drinker, and neither is Mr. Davis, but we finished that bottle quickly. He was sitting at the table when I got up and walked behind him. I reached around and gave him a hug. I kissed his neck and told him I thought he was a lovely person. He was embarrassed and just sat there. I told him he did not have to make small talk with me, but I was going to train him on how to become more comfortable with female customers. He stammered on about not needing to since I was here now. I told him he was my project and to relax. He was under my tutelage, which started right now. He finally just said “OK”.
I pulled out his chair and slid in his lap. I kissed him lightly on the lips and held him close. He smelled like musty shelves, but I loved his aroma. I kissed him more and he began to kiss me back. He had no idea how to hold me, so I draped his arms around me and told him to relax and enjoy the touch of a woman who cared about him.
We moved to the couch where we continued to cuddle. I placed his hand on my breasts and told him to touch me as we kissed. I do not wear a bra, so he had full access to them. He was good at following instructions. My fingers wandered down to his trousers, and I felt his shaft which was beginning to stir. I wanted to pleasure Mr. Davis in the best way I knew how, so soon I was on the floor between his legs. I undid his pants and pulled out his penis. He was shocked but completely silent as I prepared to blow him. He gasped as I placed my mouth over the velvety head of his penis and lightly nibbled on it. I felt his body relax as he accepted my gift. As I was down there, I wondered if he had ever had his dick sucked before. But that is not something a polite girl would ask. It was a treat for me to imagine him being a blow-job virgin, and I planned to rock his world.
His fingers glided through my hair as I kneeled before him and bobbed up and down on his member. I ran my tongue along the veiny surface of his penis, giving it tiny kisses and long licks. I have sucked a lot of cocks in my life, for payment, or to get out of trouble. This was the first time I ever did it only to please the man I was fellating. It was as pleasurable for me as it was for him. I went slowly. I wanted this to be my best blow job ever. I did not want Mr. Davis to feel any urgency to cum, and I wanted him to know I did it because I cared for him. I looked up at his face and he was smiling at me with an innocent youthful look. He could not believe it was happening, and what I was doing. I broke off my ministrations and told him I wanted him to cum in my mouth. He mumbled something, then I went back at it and tried to deep throat him. He had a beautiful cock and it felt perfect in my mouth. Soon I could tell he was struggling and was about to have an orgasm. I looked up at him again, and did not take my mouth off him, but slurred “Do it. Cum for me”. He grunted like an animal, held my head tightly and exploded in my mouth. A torrent of his spunk flooded my mouth and I struggled to swallow it. I wanted every drop of his jizz. He gasped and said, “Oh my gawd!” as he released my head. I calmly licked his shaft clean. When I was done, and his penis began to soften, I crawled back up into his lap and snuggled. No words were spoken for quite some time.
I got up and told him how much I enjoyed doing that for him, and that from now on, he would get that kind of benefit from me. He looked at me in a hurtful fashion. “I did not ask you to move in just to get sex from you”. He was silent after that, and I felt bad that I said anything. “I only meant to say that I would love to give you my special attention”. He finally muttered “OK” and we both said goodnight. It was an awkward end to a beautiful evening.
The next day, we did not speak much. I stayed busy cleaning and stocking the shelves with a batch of old books to resell. He seemed to be pre-occupied with something on the computer, and I did not want to interrupt him. We closed the shop for the day and silently went upstairs together. I stopped in mid-flight and turned to him. “I know it is not my place to say this, but I think you are a very special person. And I want to treat you special in the best way I know how. So please let me”. He looked me in the eye. Pondered his answer, then mumbled “OK”.
Chapter five – fooling around
That was all I needed. I told him to take a shower. We were going to play around. Again, he said “OK”, but with piqued enthusiasm. I heard the water running and I stripped down and joined him. He was not expecting me but was delighted. “I have never had a shower with anyone before” he confessed. “Well, we need to save water, so get used to it”, I smiled. He said, “OK”. I soaped him up in all the right places and he did the same to me. That shower did not save any water, but it was the most entertaining shower I ever had.
When we were dry, I led him to his bed. I told him that I was his instructor, and he was to use me to learn how to please a woman. He said he had always been a good student, and eager to learn new things. He did not actually say that he just said “OK”, but I knew what he meant.
He lay on the bed, and I crawled on top of him. I ravished him with kisses, then began my trek south for a repeat performance of last night. Mr. Davis was eager to repeat this learning experience, and he finished in my mouth with a healthy load of cum. I loved receiving it. Now, for his first lesson on how to please a woman. I told him how to properly suck a woman’s nipples. I wanted him to be gentle since many women are very sensitive and do not want their nipples attacked. Mine were soon hard as diamonds after he went to school on them. I told him to gently squeeze my breasts as he sucked on them since that sensation is also what most women like. Once again, he was a fast learner. I had my first orgasm from him just from him playing with my tits.
The evening went on. I told him how to eat a woman’s pussy and properly play with the fleshy lips of her vagina. He caught on quickly. He found my clit and teased it with his lips. I grabbed his head and guided him to precisely the spots he needed to focus on, and he proceeded to exceed my expectations. My heart rate went up and my entire body shook as he caressed my clit and bathed it with his tongue. He lapped up my juices and used his fingers to spread his saliva on my enflamed cunt. I am not sure I have ever been eaten out more perfectly than Mr. Davis did it. It was glorious. When I got close to my climax I could not speak or process thoughts. All I could do was concentrate on what he was doing between my legs. My whole world was now limited to his mouth on my cooch, doing magical things to me. I could no longer hold it back and I had an explosive, squirting orgasm. I am not sure I had ever squirted before. Mr. Davis gently slowed the pace of his tongue on my tender clit but kept teasing me with his touch, causing aftershocks of pleasure. When he was sure there were no more tiny climaxes to milk out of me, he crawled up and spooned me. We fell asleep entangled together.
The next several days were fantastic for both of us. We playfully grabbed each other’s crotches if there were no customers in the store or we made innuendos about sexual activities that two lovers might engage in. It was fun, erotic, and energizing. Mr. Davis finally said to me that since I have sucked his dick, I should perhaps stop referring to him as “Mr. Davis”. I guess he was right. But it was kind of fun calling him that especially after we became intimate. He was the first man I recall sleeping with that I wanted to be with. And he says I am the first girl that he was ever with, period. That was amazing to me, and very nice to know. He took me to get a pre***********ion for birth control very soon after we became lovers.
His progression in learning how to please a woman took a turn that Mr. Davis may never have conceived of. In one of my early statements in this story, I mentioned that I have a love/hate relationship with pain. What I mean is that sometimes when I am in the throes of lovemaking, I need a little pain to push me over the edge to reach an orgasm. Sometimes I need more than just a little. It is just one of my hidden desires that has been left unexplored, even though I knew it was there.
I would never dream of confiding in someone, other than Mr. Davis, about my fascination with receiving pain during sex. It is such an intimate act. You must know your partner well enough to be confident he will push you to the edge of your pain threshold without exceeding it. That is a tricky balancing act. I did not know if I should explore that part of me with Mr. Davis. He might be so turned off that could ruin our beautiful relationship.
We began vaginal sex right after I started on birth control. Neither Mr. Davis nor I wanted any unwanted accidents and me getting pregnant would have been a huge one. Once I was on it, he fucked me in my pussy every night. Up until then, any penetration was in my ass. I happen to love anal sex. It can be very sexually fulfilling, especially with the right partner. When Mr. Davis would ease his dick into my asshole, it felt wonderful. He always did the right prep work. He would eat me out and give me an incredible first orgasm. And in that process, he would slip a lubed finger into my ass after he had inserted two into my cunt. His tongue was part of the action and between the three fingers and his tongue I had the best possible orgasms. He was remarkable.
So, when we started penetration sex, and before I was on birth control, it had to be anal only. I was fully on board with that, but he was hesitant. He did not want to hurt me. I, on the other hand, thought the pain was exquisite. He would get behind me and one of us would guide his cock to the opening of my ass. Then he would inch it in gradually until he bottomed out. Then he would slowly stroke in and out of me, caressing my anal walls with his perfect cock. I loved having him balls deep in my backside. It made me feel connected to him in a way that oral sex did not do. I could feel his member throb when he paused a moment to enjoy the sensation of being inside me. It felt hot and hard, and I loved it filling my rectum.
He would grab a fistful of my hair and draw my head back as he pounded into me. I barked at him to shove his dick as deeply into me as possible. The moments as he climaxed were divine. I could feel him release his load into my bowels, and continue pounding me, as if to pack his spunk inside me. Then he would collapse onto my back. He smeared me with his sweat, and I felt bathed in erotic wetness. I often asked him to stay inside me after he had cum, and we would try to sleep still connected. He would eventually get soft, but the few moments we lay like that were magical.
By the time we started having vaginal sex, I had already gotten hooked on doing it anally, with him. So, that was how we would typically finish a night of lovemaking. Oral first, then vag, then finish in my ass. Sometimes, I wanted him to cum in my mouth, so I would tell him to pull out of my ass and feed me his cum. He was reluctant at first, since that was a little too kinky for him, but I loved it, and I knew he secretly did too. It is a very intimate act to suck the dick of your lover no matter where it has been.
Chapter six – play time
Our progression to more adventurous sex turned on a dime when I happen to see a website that he had visited on the store computer. It was an adult website featuring bondage gear, whips and restraints. When I saw the site, my cunt literally began to throb and get wet. When I saw that people could buy devices to be restrained and whipped, I had to learn more. This might be the kind of pain that I have always desired but never knew about. I used his company credit card and ordered some play toys for us.
I was very excited when the package arrived. Mr. Davis knew nothing of it, so I had to figure out the best way to introduce him to this new area of sexual pleasure. I had no interest in inflicting any pain on him, but I wanted him to give it to me. Big time. I was so excited about being tied up and whipped that I could hardly keep from spilling the beans on what I had in mind with Mr. Davis.
Since I began sharing his bed, the storage room that I cleaned out several months ago was unoccupied. So, I set up the bondage ropes on that bed so Mr. Davis could tie me down. I bought nipple clamps, pussy clamps, and a riding crop for him to use on me. When I touched those devices, I could imagine the energy that they would release from me when we were fully engaged in a bondage excursion. I even bought a ball gag, to suppress any screams I might let out that would scare Mr. Davis.
Mr. Davis and I did not need a reason to celebrate anything, since every day we celebrated finding each other. But we did reach a milestone with record sales of old books. He had become an expert at discussing vintage books and collectible editions with men and women, and so his sales significantly increased. That was enough of an excuse for me to tell Mr. Davis I had something special planned for the night. I was very reluctant to introduce him to the world of bondage and pain. But I wanted him to beat me in the worst way. Just like the song says, “hurts so good”. I knew the pain would hurt so good. The question was would he willingly hurt me?
I told him to wait 10 minutes before he came into the spare bedroom. I quickly stripped down and tied my ankles to the ropes connected to the legs at the foot of the bed. I had previously attached ropes to the headboard with loops ready for my wrists. I laid out the nipple and pussy clamps, along with the whip and the ball gag. Oh, and I also bought a giant black dildo. All these toys were on the nightstand. I had the lights off and a few candles burning to set the mood. I told him to take his clothes off and come in.
To say Mr. Davis was taken aback by the scene would be an understatement. He was stunned. But I told him, as I lay prone on the bed, that I had been wanting this all my adult life. I just did not know I wanted it. He said “OK”.
I told him to tie my wrists with the ropes, which he did. He then carefully placed a nipple clamp on each nipple. They hurt like hell at first, then the pain morphed into a searing pleasure. There was a chain that connected the two nipple clamps which Mr. Davis tugged on causing me to squeal in agony and pleasure. Mr. Davis was beginning to get the hang of this new activity.
He was not sure what I wanted to try next, so I told him to use the riding crop on me. It was a short, springy whip with a small leather flap on the end that is used to whip a horse to race faster. It does not hurt the horse, but human skin is much more sensitive. My cunt flooded with wetness as I anticipated the hurt.
Mr. Davis began testing out the whip to see how responsive it was when he snapped his wrist. It made a quick popping sound when he struck his palm with it. It stung when it landed. We both were anxious to see what it did to my tender flesh.
My nipples were hard as nails and throbbed with each heartbeat. Mr. Davis took aim with the whip on the tops of my breasts, very close to where the clamps were tightly attached to my prominent nipples. As my breasts were struck with the whip, the sting sent waves of delicious pain to my nipples which were extra sensitive due to the clamps. I involuntarily arched my back in reaction to the pain, and Mr. Davis was instantly appalled at what he did. He mumbled an apology. I told him to shut up and whip me again. He got over his insecurity and mumbled “OK”, then gave me several sharp hits on each breast. In just those few moments, my cunt swelled and spat out the squirt of my first pain climax. The sting of the whip pushed me into a euphoric orgasm.
Mr. Davis witnessed firsthand the pleasure that this riding crop gave me, so he was willing to continue. After I briefly recovered from those first whip blows, I needed more. My legs were spread apart, and I wanted my bare, unprotected cunt to be the next victim of the whip’s sting. I told Mr. Davis what to do. He stood quietly beside the bed and raised the whip. He quickly snapped it. The flap of leather struck my pussy dead center, and I screamed bloody murder. I had no idea the pain would be that intense. “Do it again” I croaked. He hesitated, then popped me again. “Yeeeahhhh oh my gawd… again!” He repeated it three more times in quick succession. I began squirming and cursing as the pain hit my brain. The pleasure signals boiled out of my cunt. It was on fire with sensations. “Again, please! I begged, don’t stop.”
Mr. Davis knew what I wanted. He beat my pussy with that whip more than a dozen times. Then he moved back up to my breasts and beat them until they were bright red. As he whipped my breasts, he pulled the chains connected to the nipple clamps to tease me even more. Then he gave me a dozen more smacks against my glowing, swollen cunt. Just as the last of the smacks hit my pussy, I had an uncontrollable climax that I thought would rip my organs from my torso. I screamed as my body fought my bindings. My orgasm was triggered by my pain receptors flooding my brain, where they twisted into pleasure signals. I was forced over the cliff of pain and fell into the valley of pleasure. I fought to catch my breath and verbally waved off any further whip strikes. Mr. Davis, ever the gentleman, tossed the whip away and buried his face in my tortured cunt to comfort it with his tongue. I am not sure I could take that intense level of orgasm very often, but it certainly was an incredible experience. Thank you for everything, Mr. Davis.
Chapter 7 - following the pain
The next morning, after that incredible evening of pleasure and pain that Mr. Davis “inflicted” on me, I slept very late. I woke and my arms were tired and sore from pulling against the ropes that bound me to the bed. I had light rope burns on my wrists and ankles. I looked at them, smiled, and got a warm feeling between my legs. But as soon as that warm feeling hit my cooch, the pain and throbbing suddenly hit me. My poor little abused cunt was going to be sore today from the whippings. But it felt wonderfully sore. Every step reminded me of the pain and pleasure that Mr. Davis gave me. He was my darling abuser.
He had gotten up early and made coffee. I could smell its aroma drifting into the bedroom from the kitchen. I noticed that Mr. Davis had left a mug of it for me on the nightstand. I could crawl back under the covers and drink my coffee. How nice. How luxurious.
After I finished my coffee, I showered and examined myself in the mirror. My nipples were still sore and a bit red, and my entire crotch had a reddish hue color streaked with blue bruises. Wow, the bondage and torture lifestyle was gonna be a bit rough on me. I will need to toughen up. I found some skin lotion to apply to my breasts and crotch. As I applied the lotion, my nipples rebelled at being touched. They were more tender than I first realized. Mr. Davis will not be playing with them tonight. I went downstairs and the bookstore was open for business. Mr. Davis was cheerily sorting receipts. He seemed almost giddy. As soon as he noticed me in the doorway, he smiled and dropped what he was doing. We met and he gave me the most intense kiss. He is not the best kisser in the world, but this one topped the chart. He squeezed me and held me close. Then we broke our embrace, and he asked how I was feeling after last night. I gave him a summary of my condition and he looked like a guilty dog. I kissed him again and said, “No, darling, you are the reason for my pleasure. The pain just brought out the pleasure”. Mr. Davis said “OK”.
We took a break from any intercourse for the next several days to let my tender skin and lady parts heal up. But I was not about to give Mr. Davis a break. I ravished him with multiple blow-jobs during the day and every night. I wanted to add a little interest to his pleasure, so I experimented with his body. I had him lay back on the couch. I was on my knees on the floor in front of him and I sucked his dick to hardness. I love the feeling as it comes alive in my mouth. I had him prop his feet over my shoulders and spread his thighs apart. I slobbered all over his dick to make it nice and slippery so I could stroke him with my hand. My mouth was going to be busy elsewhere. I ran my tongue down his shaft and lapped at his ball sack. I licked his balls then gently snuggled them with my face. It felt lovely to have my face in contact with his manly parts. His balls were slightly hairy and wrinkled and so very cute.
After I played with his balls, I licked my way down to his asshole. I cautiously probed the area with my tongue. I only hesitated in my actions because I did not know if Mr. Davis would want me there. Some people are offended by anal play and consider it dirty. He had never mentioned that, so I thought I was OK. In fact, he seemed fully on board with the idea based on his mumbling comments, groans and gasps. I knew I was in favorable territory, so I spread his cheeks with my hands and dove in deeper. I licked his hole and shoved my tongue in as deeply as I could get it. He was very appreciative.
I licked a finger and spit on his hole, then slowly inched my finger in. I returned to sucking his cock as I eased my finger into him further. As it went in deeper, he croaked “Oh, gawd, oh damn”. I judged by his wordy comments that he liked it. After that finger had bottomed out, I worked it in and out of his shithole. He was quite tight, but my plan was to loosen him up. Heh, heh. I pulled it out, then wet a second finger and put both to work. I lubed them with spit, then repeated my anal penetration. Mr. Davis was very receptive to my agenda. I continued to suck him, jack him, and fingerfuck him. I added a third finger to his rectum, and he was beside himself with pleasure. I eventually fit my entire hand into his backside and pounded him relentlessly with my tiny fist. I felt him quickly tense up. He croaked some odd noises then blew a huge load of spunk from his dick. He caught me by surprise by unloading so suddenly that I only had time to get my mouth over the second and third pumps of cum. I let his penis pulse and dribble the last of his cum into my mouth and it slowly began to deflate. I carefully eased my hand from his butt, then tongued his hole to sooth it after my rough treatment. I licked up the cum that puddled up on his belly then crawled on top of him to give him a passionate kiss. He was still breathing hard, but I think he felt the effort was worth it. He smiled, after we kissed, looked me in the eye and told me how remarkable I was. He held me tightly against his chest and we fell asleep.
After a few days of abstaining from any aggressive sex, at least for my body, I was anxious to resume our nightly sex Olympics. There was no doubt that Mr. Davis was disrupting the curve for the number of orgasms that men of his age group achieve in a 24-hour period. And I made it my personal goal to keep that record going. He had spent the first 30 years of his life not experiencing any relations with a woman, and now with me in his life, we are having to play catchup. It’s a tough job but somebody must do it. Heh-heh.
Chapter 8 - trying that new toy
When I told Mr. Davis I thought my pussy was ready to resume performing in the bedroom, his eyes lit up. He was happy because he is the kind of man who dearly LOVES to please me and make me cum. I dearly love his attitude.
We gathered our toys, lit a few candles, and got into bed. I asked him to tie my wrists to the headboard, but he did not need to tie my legs. He drizzled massage oil on my chest and smoothed it into my skin. He then began massaging my breasts and nipples. I told him “Oh dear, that massage oil has made my nipples too slick for you to delicately play with them. I guess you need to pinch them harder so they don’t slip from your fingers”. He got the subtle message and grinned. Then said “OK”. He squeezed, pulled, and twisted my slick nipples until I was overwhelmed by the extra hard attention and reached my first orgasm since the other day. I arched my back and struggled against my bindings and had a mind-numbing climax.
Mr. Davis was not done with me. Before he did anything further, he used his tongue to warm up my lady parts. He had developed into a world class pussy eater, and I am very happy that he has been such a good student. He knew exactly how to play with the lips of my pussy, and warm me up. His tongue danced lightly across my clit, just enough to drive me wild. Tonight, he made it a point NOT to give me too much contact there. He did not want me to use up all my climaxes before he got to use the dildo. There never seems to be an end to my ability to have multiple orgasms, but he was not going to take the chance before he got to the main event.
He grabbed the large black dildo that I had mail ordered. We had not used it yet and I was anxious to feel it put to work. He lubed it up with the massage oil. Then he did the same with my cunt. He leaned forward and kissed me, then settled back between my wide-open legs. He put the tip of that dildo against the entrance to my vagina, and swabbed it against me, coating it with my wetness. He slowly edged it against me. He held it with two hands as he caressed my clit with his tongue. I could not bend my neck forward enough to watch him, but the head of that dildo felt way too large to ever go in me. It seemed huge.
Mr. Davis patiently rubbed it between my pussy lips and gently tried to force it in me. He would watch my face for clues of pain or distress, so I knew he would not get carried away. He would momentarily pause and lick my clit, to reward and encourage me, then continue the challenge to get that giant plastic object buried in my cunt. I did not believe there was a way it would fit inside me. It was a monster.
He paused to let my cunt muscles relax and recover, a bit, from the onslaught. Then he’d re-apply the massage oil to me and to the toy and was about to resume his task. He did not feel it was about to get past the tightness of my cunt, so he took a cue from what I did to his asshole the night before. He gave up on the black dildo and set it aside. He lubed up his hand instead. He slowly pushed two fingers in me, then added digits until his entire hand was inside my cunt. I was breathing hard and awash with pleasure. He paused and looked at me to ask how I was doing. “OK” was all I managed to squeak out. I learned to be brief from Mr. Davis.
He licked my clit. It was a glorious feeling to be filled with his hand rather than a piece of plastic. It was much more arousing to have part of him inside me, and I was stretched to the max. Having Mr. Davis do the honors of penetrating me instead of using that toy was wonderful. Now, I wanted him to fuck me with that hand. I wanted him to fist me silly. He did as I asked and began stroking in and out of my incredibly full cunt. The squishing sound being made as his hand squeezed in and out of my hole was only surpassed by my grunts and gasps. Within a few moments the tension built to the point of a massive orgasm. I screamed out some mumbled expletives and squirted. Mr. Davis slowly removed his hand from my tortured groin and placed a damp towel on my cooch. After it was all done, using a giant dildo was not the awesome indulgence I had anticipated. It was much more erotic and pleasurable when he used his hand. Thank goodness Mr. Davis knows what is best for me.
Chapter nine – a kink of his own
My entire time of knowing Mr. Davis, he has been the most loving and gentle man I have ever known. He is thoughtful and kind and that was his way from the day I walked into his bookstore and asked for a job. It is his natural personality to have a concern for others. Recently I have gotten to know more about him and his background, and how he came to be the owner of a vintage bookshop. He was a Literature major in college and loved books and writing. After graduation he tried his hand at editing and publishing for a while. But he did not have the social skills to work with authors.
How he became the owner of this old bookstore was simple. He was on a weekend road trip to try and clear his mind about his life and career. He stopped for lunch in this small town and saw the bookstore. He went inside to browse and found out that the store was going to close since the owner had passed away. He bought it from the heirs of the owner and kept the store open. It does not make much money, but he bought it cheap and his apartment above the store was part of the purchase. His overhead is low and he is surrounded by literature, which is his passion. He is a simple, uncomplicated man.
But I wondered how it was that I came across the adult website that featured alternative lifestyle information and sold BDSM gear, like what I ordered. One day I got back on the store computer and looked up that site again. There were several times where Mr. Davis had visited the site before he and I met, but nothing recently. I looked to see if he had set up an account, and he had. He had visited the site’s “Forum” section under the topic of “water sports”. I was not sure what that was, so I browsed. I was surprised, to say the least, that “water sports” involves piss. Mr. Davis has a piss fetish? Well now, that was interesting. Did he want to be pissed on or do the pissing? Or both? And all this time I assumed that I was the kinky one of the two of us.
I wanted to explore this fetish with him but did not want him to know how I came to know about his interests. I planned to bring it up as if it were my own fetish. This was not a fetish that I could understand since I am a clean freak and getting pissed on or pissing on someone else goes counter to my cleanliness persona. But if anything like that was a turn-on to Mr. Davis, I wanted to explore it with him.
I thought of a way to find out more about his interest in water sports. One night after we closed the store, I told Mr. Davis I wanted us to take a shower together. Simple enough since we do that quite often. But this time, I had new plans. We stepped into the shower and were kissing. Before I turned on the water, I snuggled with him and told him I had a favor to ask. I coyly whispered in his ear that I wanted him to piss on me. I waited for his reaction. He stiffened up like a bird dog who has found a covey of quail. He looked at me and blushed, then wanted to know more. He asked if this was a new interest, or something that I had just not mentioned before. I told him it was just something I wanted to experiment with. I told him I simply thought it would be another way for he and I to share any secret desires.
I kneeled in the shower and looked up at him. He paused, then grabbed his dick and aimed it at me. He unleashed a stream of piss which splashed on my head and shoulders. I held my hands cupped together to catch his discharge. It was quite warm and refreshing. I opened my mouth, beckoning him to let me taste it. He did. I did not know what to expect, but the tangy fluid was not awful in taste. It was like drinking old, diluted, unsweetened lemonade. Of course, it was a bit salty. Sorta like gargling with salt water to help a sore throat. I swallowed the first mouthful, then waited for more. It was quite erotic for him to piss on me, and I could tell this might become something we do again. I caught another mouthful of his piss but did not swallow it, then stood up. I looked at him with a questioning expression to see if he was interested in tasting it too. He knew what I meant and kissed me. He got some of his piss into his mouth when we kissed. My only indication that he enjoyed himself was his erection that stood out from his loins. I may have uncovered the secret kink of Mr. Davis. If it made him happy, he could piss on me every day.
We showered and rinsed off and got into bed. I asked him if he liked pissing on me. He said he liked the idea of pissing on someone, but not necessarily on me. I asked what about pissing on someone was interesting to him. He said it was a power thing. He had been raised to always go with the flow. To never question authority or society. Getting pissed on was shorthand for getting screwed by society. And if he could be the one doing the pissing on, he would get back at society, in some tiny way. Mr. Davis was quick to re-assure me that he did not have a desire to specifically piss on me. It was merely symbolic. Before he met me, he always fantasized about hiring a hooker solely so he could urinate on her. He thought it would make him feel better. He didn’t have the courage to even speak to a woman so hiring a hooker was totally out of the question. It was one of those unfulfilled fantasies that he struggled with since it could never be realized.
But then he met me. And once he knew my story and how I had almost literally been pissed on by my own, drugged-out mother due to the way she raised me, his own fantasy melted away. He realized that how he was treated by the world was nothing compared to the difficulties I had experienced. He still loved the idea of pissing on someone, but not decided about doing it to me.
I told him I understood completely. I had a rough childhood, but I overcame it. And meeting him was my greatest good fortune. And more importantly, I wanted to please him. He meant the world to me. So, he could piss on me anytime he wanted. I jokingly told him it was another good reason for him to drink more water. He said “OK”.
Chapter ten – the book
Mr. Davis really was fascinated by my life story. The very fact that I grew up an orphan, then bounced from foster home to foster home, yet managed to become a wonderful person was astounding to him. He had read and edited several non-fiction childhood development books when he worked for a publishing company. None of the research in those books would ever indicate that I had any chance to be a loving, caring person. I should be a self-centered, thoughtless sociopath. And yet I was quite the opposite. He really wanted to write a scholarly book about my life.
I was dumbstruck by that idea. I never thought anyone would give a rat’s ass about my life, and I certainly never thought anyone would want to document it. This was something I could not process. As soon as Mr. Davis mentioned the idea of writing a book about my life, he got incredibly excited about it. I did not want to do it. I had too many skeletons in my past that I had whitewashed when telling him my life story. How would he feel after learning that I had a lifelong search for a daddy figure? And that I always got kicked out of those foster homes for trying to seduce the father? What would Mr. Davis think if I confessed that I sucked their dicks and licked their asses to gain favor? How would he feel in learning that I have done nearly every sex act imaginable for dozens of other men? He might think that those same pleasurable acts that I do for him were unique to him. If he learned otherwise, it could be disastrous for our relationship.
The more I considered the idea of a book being written about my life, I knew it would be a mistake. I was no literary scholar, but I had always respected the quotes from much smarter people than me. Writing a book about my life would make Mr. Davis know more about me than he wanted to. “Familiarity breeds contempt” is the perfect quote that scared me from this idea. I told Mr. Davis my fears about the project. I had the perfect life now, with him, and I could not risk losing it. So, in that view, I am a self-centered person. His original evaluation of me was correct. But at least my socio-pathic tendencies are sexual. And I did not think Mr. Davis wanted to risk ruining my talents and willingness in that area, by writing a book about it. When I explained my reasoning, he was understandably disappointed. This was an idea he thought could be great. It was going to be much better even than pissing on a hooker. But he understood and agreed with me. He looked me in the eyes, gave me a passionate kiss, then said “OK”.
Chapter 11 – Giving Mr. Davis a “Store-Job”
After I was able to get him off the idea of writing a book about my life, I could tell that he had a bit of emptiness about him that I needed to find out more about. He had become so enthusiastic about writing a non-fiction book about me that since it was off the table, he was depressed. He wanted to contribute to the literary world, and I had just taken it away with my concerns. I did not know what to do about that, so I just continued to struggle with it silently.
Then it occurred to me that we could write a fictional account of my life. I could tell him things that were in my history, but it would be framed in the story of a fictional girl. I could give him details without admitting they really happened. It would be a juicy tell-all, but with a fictional character. After one of our sex sessions, I broached the idea with him. He seemed not too interested at first, but then slowly warmed to the idea. I told him we could add all kinds of naughty activities to make the story even better than it would be if based solely on the life that he knew of. We went to sleep, curled up together, without any decision.
The next morning, he was up early and busy in the store. He seemed extra gleeful and was very happy to see me as I came downstairs. I had not bothered to dress and was wearing one of his dress shirts with only one button fastened. I guess I looked extra alluring, because he immediately dropped what was in his hand and quickly took me into his arms. He kissed me deeply. I could feel the warmth of his touch through the thin fabric of his shirt. He grabbed my bare ass with his hands and squeezed me against his body. I felt his cock grow as I stood there snuggling with him. It was quite erotic to be doing that in the store, since we had never been so bold before.
I reached down and unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock. He looked into my eyes and had a lustful grin on his face. He undid that button on my shirt and pulled it from my shoulders. The cloth cascaded to the floor around my feet. I then knelt in front of him and took his hardening member into my mouth. I sucked it for a few moments, then rubbed the taunt skin against my cheeks and forehead. I loved the texture of his swollen dick against my face. The velvety head of his cock felt heavenly on me. I smeared his pre-cum on my lips and swallowed him again. I slobbered all over it and used one hand to stroke him. I grabbed his hips to forcefully pull him against my face. I wanted his pubes to smother me. I wanted his shaft as far down my throat as I could get it. I was about to pull out all the stops and give him a great blow job when suddenly the shop door chime rang to announce a customer had entered the bookstore.
Mr. Davis gasped, then stood totally still, frozen in space, as a lady’s voice said good morning to him. I recognized her as someone who had bought several vintage books from Mr. Davis. I looked up at him and saw that he was staring straight down at me. His face was ashen white. His mouth gaped open as his lips quivered, trying to say some greeting back to the lady. It dawned on me that I was on the far side of his counter from the front door, so she had no idea I was there. She could not know that Mr. Davis had his cock buried down my throat. If it was possible for me to grin with his cock in my mouth, I guess I did, because I thought it was hilarious that this sudden event had occurred.
I did not stop sucking him. He was finally able to spit some words of acknowledgment to the lady, and even asked her how she was doing today. Those were the most words I have ever heard him say to a lady patron. I guess his months of training by me were paying off.
I scooted under his counter, not letting his prick slip from my mouth. I used one hand to fondle him and one to steady myself against the floor. I used long, slow strokes and began licking the end of his penis, to build up his climax. I hoped that the customer would still be in the store, perhaps even standing on the other side of the counter, when I brought him off. That would be too good. The thought of letting him shoot his load all over my face, while speaking with a lady customer, was too hot an image for me, and I had a tiny climax. I groaned quietly, I thought, but the lady asked Mr. Davis to repeat what he said. He told her he was just thinking out loud and for her to browse the shelves to her heart’s content.
I could tell from her voice she was on one of the back aisles of the tiny bookstore, so I furiously sucked and jacked him to make him cum. He stood there completely still. I could see his knuckles turn white as he tightly grabbed the edge of the countertop. He was about to blow his load. I knew exactly when to expect it and pulled his dick out and jacked him off, while aiming his cock right at my face. He shot several strands of thick cum right between my eyes and on my cheeks. He kept pulsing in my hand as the last tiny spurts hit my face. I licked the end of his penis to taste the final drops that he produced.
He nearly fell backwards as his climax ended. I have never seen him so stone faced after one of my blow-jobs. As he stood there, I delicately returned his softening cock to his pants, and zipped him up. Then I patted him there, to let him know he was presentable. He looked down at me with a look of relief and of utter pleasure. I looked up at him with my face, still cum drenched, and gave him a wink. He met the customer in the non-fiction area and distracted her as I slipped his shirt back on and quickly darted to the office of the store. I did not button it, or even wipe my face. I waited for her to leave, then went back out front. He saw me and had an exasperated but euphoric expression on his face. When he saw globs of cum still clinging to my nose and chin he gasped, then roared in laughter.
“That was the most horrible and wonderful thing that has ever happened in this store!” he exclaimed, loudly. And those were the most words I have ever heard him speak after an orgasm. I did not want to break the magic of the moment, so I just grinned and scampered back to the residence. “Wait!” he called out. I turned around. He motioned me to get down on my knees again, so I did. He pulled out his cell phone and took a photo of my cum covered face. I beamed with satisfaction that he loved it so much he wanted to catch the memory. This was one of the first photos ever taken of me by Mr. Davis. I guess he still has a few surprises for me.
Chapter 12 – Role playing
During the years that Mr. Davis owned the bookstore, there were never enough sales for him to justify having an accountant do his books. But sales were now good, so Mr. Davis found an accountant to review his books and prepare for tax season. The accountant took a few days to review the store’s sales and costs, then told Mr. Davis the situation. He said that the store was way behind in paying quarterly taxes and he was going to have tax penalties as a result. This made Mr. Davis very angry. He said the government was penalizing him for his success.
Later that night, Mr. Davis was still grumpy about the tax issue. I told him he looked thirsty and gave him a wry grin. He looked at me dumbfounded, then understood my meaning. He downed several glasses of water before we had dinner and cleaned up the kitchen. I asked him if it was time for him to take his revenge on “The man”. He knew exactly what I was suggesting, and we both stripped naked.
We stepped into the shower, and I looked him in the eye and told him what a poor businessman he was. He did not know how to pay taxes and he was going to be forced to pay a penalty. I just repeated what the accountant had said but took on the role of “The man”, to rile up Mr. Davis. He knew exactly what I was doing and played along. He told me, “The man”, that he was a good businessman and would show me who was boss.
He forced me to my knees and grabbed his penis with one hand. I looked up at his shaft, that was aimed at my face, with a blank stare, as if I had no idea what was about to happen. Then, a blast of warm piss erupted from the head of his dick and caught me dead center on my forehead. Mr. Davis looked down at me, grinning at his ability to piss on me. I stared up at him and opened my mouth to “complain”. The stream of piss landed in my mouth, and I pretended that I could not avoid it, and tried to speak. I was drenched in piss, and it was choking off my ability to speak. My hair was plastered against my skull, and yellow piss water coated my face, chest and shoulders. I feigned disgust at what he was doing to me and pretended to be helpless in his rude assault. The longer he pissed on me, the more swollen his member became. He was getting aroused by being defiant.
I looked up at him, and swallowed as much piss as I could catch, to show him he was in control. Soon the stream of piss died off and Mr. Davis grunted and shook his hardening dick on me to release the last drops. I then took that as my cue and engulfed his shaft with my mouth and began slobbering all over it. I gave him the best oral pleasure I could, as a defeated nameless representative of authority. He had me on my knees, taking his piss and sucking his cock, and he was the one in power. He grabbed my head with both hands and fucked my face rapidly. He quickly blew his jizz in my mouth, then held his dick inside me as is to say, he would release me when he jolly well wanted to. It was a tiny act of aggression that I had never seen of him. I was happy to have been able to role play with Mr. Davis and draw out his suppressed aggression against the system. We finished showering and went to bed. We curled up together and slept like babies.
Chapter 13 – a request
By all measures, Mr. Davis and I had an incredible relationship. We got along during the day as we worked together, and then at night when we fucked each other’s brains out. So, it came as a shock to me when one day, Mr. Davis asked if he could take a few days off from having sex with me. That was a complete shock. We always had sex each night, ever since I first crawled up in his lap to show him my appreciation of his kindness.
He did not explain himself, so I just said, “OK”, knowing that he had a good reason, I hoped. That night, as we lay curled up together in bed, he explained. Mr. Davis told me that he had something he wanted me to do, but it went against my instincts and desires. He did not want to tell me any details, but I told him whatever he wanted from me he would get. He looked into my eyes and sincerely said “OK”. We communicate very well.
It was a couple of days later that he told me he wanted to resume our sex life. I was very horny and told him of my relief. He said that was part of the plan. He figured I would be more interested in doing what I asked if I were desperate for an orgasm. He was probably correct. So, I told him to tell me what he wanted me to do, and I would do it, no questions asked. He said it was not that big of a deal, but he just needed to take these last few days off from orgasms to build up his spunk output. He wanted to produce a big load for his request.
This got me really interested. So, I asked what his big load was for. He told me. Mr. Davis had the request for us to be in bed together, and I give him one of my incredible blow-jobs. But rather than him cum in my mouth, he wanted to shoot all over my face, like he did in the store. He wanted to see his cum dripping from my face. I loved that idea but didn’t understand the significant difference to what he often does. But there was more. Since we had both abstained from orgasms, we would both be extra invigorated. He wanted me to keep his spunk on my face, and then he would go down and eat my pussy and bring me off. His desire was to have me cum while being covered in his cum. I thought it was a hot idea, and I agreed immediately. I loved it. But there was one more thing. Mr. Davis asked me NOT to wash off his jizz, and wear it all night. His hesitancy was because he knew it would go against my clean freak notions. I will admit I was a bit concerned I would not be able to sleep like that, but it was quite an erotic idea. I said “OK”.
So, we showered together, and soaped up all our fun parts, and got prepared for the evening’s activity. I had him lay in bed and I crawled over him with my cunt at his face. He might as well have something to do while I sucked his dick. He took the hint. I felt his hands pull my butt cheeks apart and his tongue was soon buried in my asshole. OMG, it felt so good. I almost orgasmed just from the thought of where his tongue was, but I controlled myself. I concentrated on the beautiful meat shaft that was right in front of my face. I slid my mouth over it and delicately sucked the head. I pulled off and ran my tongue along its length to trace the veiny surface. I put it back in my mouth to capture the lovely feeling of it pulsating in my mouth.
As incredible as Mr. Davis’s tongue felt in my ass, I needed to be on the bottom if I was to receive full effect of Mr. Davis’s pent up cum load. I flipped over and propped my face up with his pillow. (I figured to get his pillow all nasty since this was his kink request). I had him kneel over me and straddle my chest with his thighs. I wanted him to get full, even coverage of his cum on my face. And I thought it would be even more erotic for him to pin my arms down with his thighs, so I would be “helpless” to keep him from spewing his man seed on my face.
He was over me and had me pinned down as I just described. He used my mouth as his private fuck hole by holding my head up and stroking in and out of my mouth. It was very erotic. Mr. Davis was correct that my forced abstinence had heightened my desires, and this was incredibly hot. I let him use my mouth and face to his complete satisfaction. He would pull out and rub his cock on my cheeks to smear my saliva on me, coating my face. Then he would return his dick to my mouth and resume fucking my face. He did this for several minutes until he could stand it no longer. He pulled his cock from my mouth and gripped it with one hand. My saliva made his shaft slick, so he rapidly jacked it until I felt a full blast of cum shoot out of him and hit me between the eyes. Right after the first one, a second blast of jizz erupted from him, adding to the coating that he started. Smaller spurts hit my cheeks, then he offered the remaining drips to my open mouth. I gladly accepted his deposit.
After he caught his breath, he rolled off me and crawled down to my wet cooch. It was dying for relief, and he knew just how to give it to me. He started by lapping the juices that were leaking out of me from my arousal. He began working a few fingers into my twat as he tongued my clit. He knew when to back off a bit and tease me, not letting me cum, when I was so desperate to do so.
I could feel more fingers exploring inside me, playing with my G-spot. I started hunching those fingers, desperate to have an orgasm. The spunk on my face had me so turned on that I was going crazy anticipating my own orgasm. I spread my thighs further, and Mr. Davis took the hint. He eased his entire fist inside my cunt. I was deliriously full. He paused a moment, and I think he stopped to make sure I was not accidentally wiping off any of his deposit on my face. I was not about to. It was my erotica mask. My sexual warpaint.
His tongue returned to my clit as his fist slowly twisted, left and right, inside my cunt. His knuckles dragged against my G-spot, and I gasped as I fought to control my orgasm. I knew Mr. Davis wanted this to go on, and even in my desperation to climax, I did too. He sensed it was time. He pulled his fist almost entirely out of my cunt, then rammed it home as far as he could get it. I screamed in lovely agony and groaned with pleasure. He repeated that action several more times until he got the desired result. I blew a jet of squirt from my quim and had a mind shattering orgasm. His fist was still buried between my legs as I rolled over on my side. I told him to keep it there until I could stand to feel the stimulation of it being pulled out. He curled up behind me, keeping his fist inside me. He told me later he loved feeling my cunt pulse with after-shocks of the orgasm. He had outdone himself. I fell asleep with him still inside me, and yes, some of his cum was wiped on to his pillow during the night. Ha! I woke up the next morning with a sore cunt, and smile on my face, along with dried crusts of his spunk. I loved it.
Chapter 14 – time marches on
Mr. Davis and I made a dynamic team for selling vintage books. He showed me how to catalog the valuable old books and he wrote summaries for each of them. We posted the information on our new website, and inquiries came in from all over the country. The lady who I had made my first sale to, long ago, returned to see some of our posted items for sale. She was a gorgeous lady, and I had not really noticed her beauty on my first meeting with her. I was concentrating on finding great gifts for her. I got some subtle suggestions from her that she was flirting with me. That took me by surprise, and I was flattered at the attention. I introduced her to Mr. Davis, and we had a lovely afternoon discussing rare books, people, and life. Mr. Davis brought out a bottle of good wine and the three of us drank, laughed and made suggestive remarks, to the delight of each other. It was one of the nicest days I remember from working at the bookstore.
This lady, who I will call Lisa for this story, seemed much more interested in mine and Mr. Davis’s relationship. I told her he had let me stay in the spare room and our romance blossomed in a natural fashion. She told me how lucky I was to have found someone as giving and willing to share, as Mr. Davis was. I told her I agreed completely. Mr. Davis blushed and told us he saw all the good qualities in me and did not want me to slip away.
Our conversation got more intimate. Lisa wanted to know if we were lovers. I said, yes, and he is the best lover a woman could ever want. He knows just how to pleasure a woman. I told her I could share my secret desires and know that anything I thought was not too far out there. He was a wonderful lover. Sometime during all this, I saw a spark of interest from Mr. Davis in her. You’d think that as a “socio-path” I would have stopped all this intimate discussion when I saw that the two of them could be good together. But I didn’t. I pushed the envelope. I asked Lisa if she could stay the evening with us. Mr. Davis was shocked. He started mumbling about work he had to do. I told him that we owed Lisa a big thank you for that first sale, which prompted he and I to become intimate in the first place. She was unaware of any of this, of course, so I briefly filled her in. Her face became flushed, and she quietly said “OK”. With that, I knew she would fit right in.
We put the CLOSED sign on the door, and I found another bottle of wine. We continued getting to know each other and toasted our good fortune for fate bringing the three of us together. I did not know how to go from drinking and chatting to fucking, so Lisa took control. She got up and went over to Mr. Davis. She bent down and gave him a lovely, gentle kiss on the lips. She told him he must be a very good man in addition to being a good lover. And she thanked him for allowing her to be a part of our relationship.
I stood up and joined them in a three-way kiss. I had never kissed a woman before, and it was a delightful experience. Lisa had soft lips and a lovely tongue. She alternated between me and Mr. Davis and the three of us became very aroused. I carefully began unbuttoning her blouse and reached inside to caress her lovely breasts over her bra. I forgot that many women wear them. She finished undoing her shirt and pulled it off. She reached around and undid her bra and shook the garment off of her chest. Her lovely full breasts were suddenly on display. I could not help but audibly gasp at her tits. They were perfectly shaped, and she had large, dark nipples that were protruding from her skin like eraser tips. I did not wait for an invitation and began sucking the one closest to me.
Mr. Davis, finally realizing what was happening, quickly, stood up and joined her by getting undressed too. In no time, the three of us were naked and groping each other. I was so turned on that it did not occur to me to suggest we go to our bedroom. We were on the floor of the bookstore, on an antique rug, surrounded by the leather chairs we had been sitting in to drink wine. In hindsight, this was the perfect spot to enjoy the company of Lisa.
She told Mr. Davis to lie on his back. She crawled up on him and kissed him deeply. I got on my knees and began servicing his hard cock with my mouth. Lisa and I switched positions after a few minutes, and she enjoyed giving him some oral pleasure too. I squatted my cooch down on his face and told him to eat me. He is always ready to please. I was facing Lisa so I could watch. I had never seen another person suck a dick, and it was inspirational and erotic to see her technique. After a few more moments, Lisa turned and positioned her crotch over his cock, then lowered herself on to him. He grunted savagely as he felt his dick being swallowed by a new pussy. At the sight of her impaling herself on his rigid pole, I had an orgasm. It was such an erotic moment that I could not help but cum. It would be the first of many that night.
Lisa was a very sharing lover. She pulled off Mr. Davis’s penis before he came. She did not want to hog the erection he was sporting. She waved me over to have my turn, which I gladly accepted. She took my spot and had Mr. Davis work on her wet cunt as he had mine. She leaned forward and beckoned me to do the same. Our lips met. We French kissed on top of Mr. Davis. It was a triangle of passion. Mr. Davis’s cock had me on the verge of another orgasm, but I held off. Kissing Lisa was one of the highlights of my life and I did not want the distraction of climaxing while she and I were engaged. After a few moments, Lisa let out a shriek as if she was in pain. She had a powerful orgasm and soaked Mr. Davis with her burst of juices. She flopped onto the rug, panting and babbling nonsense, as she dealt with the after affects of her climax. I climbed off Mr. Davis and began tenderly licking her hot cunt. I had never tasted another woman and it was glorious. She could hardly stand the touch of my tongue, at first, then began to writhe and moan in pleasure. When I knew she had recovered and was up to task, I swapped my body around and planted my cunt in her face. She did the polite thing and began eating me out in earnest. This was another first for me, being serviced by a woman. I think I found a new kink.
Mr. Davis, not to be left out, got behind me and shoved his rigid tool into my unused asshole. I was not expecting it, but it was a delightful change. He hammered me with his cock. He was more aroused than I had ever seen him, and he punished my hole. I loved it. Lisa’s face was right below my ass, and she could watch as his dick slammed in and out of my asshole. After a few moments of that, she told him to let her suck his dick. He pulled out of my ass and did as the lady asked, of course. She cleaned his cock of all the butt juices, and the had him re-insert it into my ass. What a girl. This went on for many minutes. She would ask him for his cock, suck it clean, and he would go back to fucking me. Mr. Davis was beside himself with pleasure. He did not know when he should cum or where, but he kept pounding into me and feeding her, like a good soldier.
Eventually Mr. Davis screamed out that he was going to cum in my ass. I told him to do it. DO IT! And he did. He blew jets of cum inside my rectum and filled me up. After he finished, he pulled out, uncorking what felt like a pint of spunk, which poured out of my vacant asshole. Lisa opened her mouth and caught the stream of cum. She swallowed it, then told me to sit up and let her eat out my ass to get the rest. I obligingly did what she asked and let her lick my abused hole.
Lisa was relentless. She enthusiastically engaged in every act of debauchery that the three of us could conjure up. She sucked his dick after being in my ass. She ate my ass, and later did the same for Mr. Davis. She was a wonderful and enthusiastic lover. By the end of the evening, and all of us were totally spent, and laying naked on the rug, she asked how often we made love. I told her we did it every night, unless there was a reason not to. I looked at Mr. Davis, and he grinned at that. Lisa was amazed. She confessed that she and her husband do it only every few weeks. She was astonished to learn that we did it so often. I think she will have a discussion with her hubby after this. We reluctantly got dressed and kissed her goodbye, and of course told her to come back. She gathered her things and we hugged again at the door. I kissed her one last time. It was another evening to remember.
Chapter 15 – I don’t know how to conclude.
Mr. Davis and I have been lovers for a very long time, now. We have had the ups and downs that any relationship has but we have been able to navigate past any rough spots and come out better for it. He has won the admiration of the Vintage Book Society by finding, preserving and cataloging obscure books that need preserving. He has made a success out of a lonely bookstore in a small town and has caused more visitors to visit the town. New cafes have opened to absorb the new business from shoppers and the community is thriving. He is now recognized as the reason the town is prosperous. I could not be more proud of his accomplishments.
Lisa has called and visited on several occasions, and we had many lovely evenings of debauchery with her inclusion. Life is good. No one in this town seems to care about our personal relationship. No one asks if we are married or just employee/employer. I like that. We are just a small cog in the wheel of life, as it should be. If there are more titillating stories that I need to tell, I guess I will resurrect this and add to it. But for now, we are still lovers, fucking every day we can, unless there is a reason not to. Wink, wink. I told Mr. Davis I was posting this chronicle of our life together. He said “OK”.