Blake Michaels - Ass Reaming

I knew I was riding up and down on the dildo. I knew it was inflated considerably. I knew it wasn't as rough as it felt.

Then it occurred to me… the ointment… My ass was draining it from the head of the dildo and transporting it back and forth along my canal.

The heat increased. It ran down my legs toward my feet. It burned everything in its wake.

It spread through my stomach, destroying any sense of restraint, any sense of decency, any thought of reality.

"Yeah, how's that, whore? How's that dildo now, slave, like it? Want it? Take it all… let me see that ass hole fly… yeah. That's it… push them out… push those lips out… way out… let heaven in… fuck."

Fortunately, he was holding my head and working it back and forth on his cock. I didn't have to concentrate on that. I only had to think of my ass hole.

I only had to think of satisfying my ass. I only had to think of filling it.

I pumped and moaned. I ground my hips, twisted my pelvis, arched my back.

I slammed myself down on it and could hear the force of my body hit the bed.

The fire was consuming me.

The odor coming from the cloth was overcoming me.

My head was spinning. My ears were ringing, my eyes blinded by the lights flashing inside my head.

I was wanton. I was sex… feeding on itself… I wanted him to see me… I wanted to please him.

Suddenly there was no other thought in my mind, but to please him. I knew he was watching me. I knew he was judging me, 1 wanted to please him… I wanted to show him.

Then it happened.

Amid the burning, throbbing sensations in my ass there rose an all-encompassing feeling of climax. My stomach tightened, my legs tensed, my back stiffened. My ass hole pushed out, harder and harder against the invading representative of sex. My lips were turned inside out. My ring of flesh was slapping against the leather covering on every descent.

Even with Bruce's cock buried in my throat I managed to make animallike gurgling sounds. I could feel his rigid cock trying to probe deeper into me. I gulped at him; fed on his animal sex, thrived on his physical invasion of me.

I could feel the hot juices of my climax welling up inside my stomach, running down through the channels inside my cunt.

My body exploded with the force of my orgasm. Hot, garbled moans escaped my cock-filled throat. My body writhed in orgasmic ecstasy. My hips thrashed about as the hot juice of my come spewed from my palpitating, convulsing hole.

As my own come raced through me, I felt the cock inside my mouth swell. I sucked harder, knowing what was about to happen. The head of his cock was pressing against the back of my throat when the first thick, white gush of sperm came shooting from his piss hole. I swallowed it hungrily, sucking at the same time. I couldn't swallow fast enough and finally thick, globs of come ran from the corners of my stuffed mouth, rolling down my chin and then dripping onto my heaving titties.

Suddenly, the cock was pulled from my mouth and I could feel the remainder of his come shooting all over my face, landing in a hot, sticky mess on my eyes and forehead, with the last few drops squirting onto my nose and mouth.

I moaned with passion, feeling total degradation at last. I was being used and I loved it. I began feeling totally spent, drained of all feeling. I felt a calm, relaxing coolness creeping over my entire body. Sounds became more and more distant. I could imagine the way I looked, the globs of come covering my face already cold and beginning to harden, forming a crust.

"You fucking slut," was the last thing I heard. I was totally and completely out of it.

"How would you like to go for a ride in the country, slut?" Bruce asked me over coffee the following bright morning.

I was surprised at his attitude and tone. I didn't expect him to carry his thoughts of our sex session over into ordinary conversation. But I didn't make any scene. I ignored the implications.

"That would be nice," I answered.

"Good. Then, after we've cleaned up, I know just the place to go. By the way, have you looked at your backside this morning?"

"As a matter of fact, I have," I answered. "I don't like what I see."

"But you liked getting it, didn't you?"

"Well… "

"Didn't you?" he persisted.

"Under the circumstances of the moment, I did. But that doesn't mean I have to like the after-effects."

"It's all part of the game, baby," his sober voice intoned.

I thought over what he had just said. I supposed that I had to agree with him.

We finished our breakfast in relative simplicity and silence.

"Oh," I said. "This is absolutely wonderful. It's delicious just to be able to lie back and enjoy the clean silence of the country."

"Yeah," Bruce answered. "It's nice once in a while. In fact, it's even nicer when you've got a hot ass hole wrapped around your cock, or I guess it could also be a cunt depending on taste."

I looked at him sharply. He had the habit of saying the strangest things at the strangest times.

Sex was the farthest thing from my mind. I was drinking in the delights of nature's country air and hearing the happy, carefree sounds of the country. I really wasn't thinking about sex at all.

But when he said that, the thought suddenly came to me that I still had not gotten his cock into me. He had managed to avoid that scene. I still really wanted him.

My crotch gave an involuntary twitch of anticipation.

"I guess you're right," I agreed.

"How would you like a stiff cock up that ass of yours?" he asked.

I didn't know how to answer him.

"You're still hungry for cock, aren't you?" he went on.

"I guess I am," I answered.

"Then, feel this," he suggested, taking my hand and resting it over his crotch.

I could feel his manliness coming to the fore once again. His huge cock had already begun to firm up. I could feel coiled power throbbing and twitching within the confines of his briefs.

Just the touch of him started my insides churning. My ass hole began to ready itself. My breasts drew tight and the nipples stood up, hard and eager.

My mind began to reel, conjuring up visions of his huge cock slipping into my love-hole.

I closed my fingers over him.

"Like that, don't you bitch?" he asked, his voice now hard.

"Yes," I murmured softly.

"Then love it," he said, shoving himself into my hand. "Show me how you love it."

I tried, but his tight slacks and his even tighter briefs held his member in strict confinement. I could do no more than open the fly of his pants and stroke his fullness within his briefs.

But even that small consolation was enough to satisfy me for the moment.

I caressed it, stroking my fingers back and forth over the length of it. I felt it harden and straighten out.

He, on the other hand, lay on his back, resting his head in his hands, and looked up at the sky, impassively.

His aloofness bothered me. I resolved to break through it.

"Bruce, please fuck me."

He responded by pressing his crotch against my hand again.

"Bruce," I repeated, softly and seductively, "please fuck me with that cock. You promised to do it last night. You threatened to do it at Bill's. But you've held me off. Why?"

"Because I want you to really want it," he said in a matter of fact voice. "I want you to really worship this cock of mine. And the only way you can do that is to want it bad, really bad. I want to see your mouth water for the taste of it," he continued. "I want to see your cunt lips work for the feel of it."

"But haven't I convinced you that I really want it? What do I really have to do?"

"Become my slave!" he spat, turning his head look me squarely in the eyes.

"Your slave?" I asked, surprised.