WARNING: This story is a buffet of fetishes, and it all comes on the same plate. You will find graphic urination and anal play, genderfluid and transgender sex, female domination, cheating, light restraint, non-consent and coercion, sniffing, cum swapping, prolapsing, prostate milking, and cuckolding… I mean, if you’re not a nasty, nasty freak, stay the fuck out. But if you’re anything like me: you’re fucking welcome.
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She hovers over his face so that he can feel the warmth radiating from her swampy, fragrant snatch. Thick, meaty lips curtain over the tip of his nose, despite their petaling. A string of slick arousal lands upon the corner of his mouth. He longs to press his tongue against it, taste it, probe his tongue up into that beautiful, hair-framed gusset but he cannot. He must hold is mouth open wide, follow every instruction… or the video will be sent to his wife.
This was not how he expected this trip to go.
It had been a year. He wasn’t complaining, but a year is a long time to some people. Maybe Steph’s libido would come back. Maybe it was gone for good. But Connor had his hand and a few toys and porn and his stories. Truly, he was too busy for much more.
His fantasies, though, had become all too repetitive not to be concerned. It was always cheating. No matter the scenario, no matter how sensual or how crude, the excitement was in the cheating. Why? He asked himself all the time while unabashedly writing his stories about that very thing. There were several answers, of course, one as legitimate as the next. But two reasons stood out.
Cheating was dangerous, naughty. Just like anal sex can be a bit dangerous and naughty. But just like anal sex, Connor would never do it if it would hurt someone, especially Steph, especially with the kids. Sex wasn’t just sex, even though it kind of was. The amount of work that even goes into an open marriage, even if Steph was into it… it was just too much. Stories didn’t hurt anyone. And neither did the fantasies. And both took very little time away from the family.
Of course, the other reason Connor’s fantasies were always based on cheating? It was the only way he would ever know sexual contact with another person again. It’s a lonely thing to want so badly to have that connection, to experience that emotional moment and know it can never be reciprocated.
He wasn’t really worried about taking it too far. The moment he had cum, Connor would be liberated from the fantasy. And Steph and the kids would be once more at the forefront of his thoughts, his loving family.
Cheating just wasn’t worth it.
But. He was pushing it a little. The excitement of ‘just thinking about it’ wasn’t quite getting him there. That’s the thing about fantasies. They escalate or they change, but they cannot stay the same.
Soon enough, Connor found himself looking up Nevada prostitutes online, just imagining what it would be like to travel and spend time with someone who at least pretended to want him. Again, though, once he had blown his load, Connor knew that prostitutes weren’t the right answer for him. He couldn’t be sure his chosen partner would be happy with her choice, or happy with him. And Connor wouldn’t be able to switch that off.
There was one detail that got him there every time. Well. The sex was often different, but the person was always the same.
Her name was Natalie. She was more than a few years Connor’s junior, but when they were still young, her mental acuity easily outpaced her maturity. Natalie was emotional to a fault, crushed with extreme ease, and for all the hours and hours they talked and danced around it, they were in love once. It was brief. It was foolish. Natalie was sixteen at the time and Connor was finishing college, and there was no chance he’d ever take advantage of his position as the influential ‘mature’ guy to explore a relationship with an impressionable minor. Plus… what happened when she caught up? What happened when they both realized that he was the immature one that didn’t have his shit together, and Natalie lost interest?
They would check in with each other every few years. Connor married, started the family. Natalie became a career woman and got a dog. They lived on separate coasts, but work or extended family would drop them in the same place at the same time. Natalie had been to Connor’s house, met his wife and son. Connor had been to Natalie’s apartment, met her dog.
And now, with danger at the helm of Connor’s unreciprocated libido, he began to include Natalie in his cheating stories. At first, he would merely picture her as he crafted his lovemaking scenes or kinky anal scenes or kinkier watersports scenes. Then he started including details, going so far as to recount a time, when they were legally adults but still earlier in their careers, neither attached, when Connor paid for Natalie’s hotel room during a visit… and left her there as she was wearing nothing but a tee shirt and panties, asking why içel seks hikayeleri he was rushing away so soon.
Coward. Connor was a coward then. He was a coward now, hiding his desires behind a bunch of anonymous stories that his old flame and ultimate fantasy partner would never read.
A few months after he published that story, he found himself packing for a trip to the west coast. He texted Natalie, as he always did. They planned dinner, as they always did, this time at Natalie’s because she was on a deadline and couldn’t afford to drive into the city and back.
Connor masturbated in the airplane bathroom in-flight. He wouldn’t have another chance, and he really needed it out of his system. His goto for a quick orgasm was always pee-related. He shot his load while visualizing the hot, bitter nectar jetting from Natalie’s little hole as he pressed upon her bladder through her vaginal wall. It wasn’t the pee alone that took him over the edge, though. It was the way he imagined her as she peed, moaning for him to enter her anus.
He left the airport and took a rideshare directly to his planning meeting. For five hours and change, Connor managed minimal thoughts about her. He managed to focus on work and hold off the pressure at the edge of an erection. He made his goodbyes at the office. And the minute he entered her address in the rideshare app, he felt the flutter in his chest.
It was always like this before he saw her. A combination of nerves and adrenaline from the moment he was en route to the first twenty minutes of conversation with her. It was purely nerves, never arousal. In fact, Connor’s libido vaporized in Natalie’s presence. It was the old feeling. The one that forbade him from having feelings for her when they weren’t a thousand or more miles apart. The one that slammed down the night he left her in that hotel room. Truth was, Connor didn’t have to worry about anything as dangerous as cheating, because his armor was thicker than the walls of any vault. His family on the line, he was happy to keep it that way.
He was just visiting a friend. Simple.
Stepping out of the vehicle, overnight backpack on one shoulder and sport coat folded over his forearm, Connor made the short approach to the porch, climbed the steps, and rang the bell.
He expected to hear the dog barking, but he only heard the bolt slide free. The door opened.
Natalie’s generous lips bent to a curve at one end, her signature. Her bleach-blonde hair climbed in a vertical wave, shorn close around the sides. She was still wearing black trousers and a tucked collared shirt from the work day, the latter unbuttoned low. Connor could see the full sleeve of her tattoo through the white fabric of her shirt. He could also see the dark disc and protrusion of wide nipples. There was no way she went to work without a bra, even to sell more drugs to those pervy doctors. But then, Natalie would never have been accused of being conventional.
So much for armor.
Natalie shoved a dripping glass of amber liquid into Connor’s hand. “Get in here,” she said. “You’ve got some catching up to do.”
“Are you drunk?” asked Connor.
“Not yet,” said Natalie.
Connor tossed his jacket and backpack on the couch. “Where’s Crumbs?”
“Oh, she’s at the kennel for the night,” said Natalie, sweeping through the tiny living room and snagging a drink from the bar as she entered the kitchen. “She gets agitated when I make a lot of noise.” Her hips swayed as she walked, the trousers hugging her form from waist to knees.
“What noise?” asked Connor. “You expecting more people?”
“You know how you get when you lose.”
“I see,” said Connor with a grin of his own. “What are we playing?” He tilted his head to the playstation. “Midnight Club? I’ve been practicing, you know.”
“You can’t practice for this,” she said. “Drink up.”
Connor tipped his glass back.
+ + +
As one moment begins to chain together to the next, Connor realizes something is wrong. The moment grows longer.
“Jesus fuck!” yells Connor. He jerks suddenly and find his arms lashed to something. Cool air from the ceiling fan disturbs hair on his chest, on his legs, and around his waxed groin. He’s naked but for his open shirt. “What… how… what? Natalie?”
The couch. His arms are lashed to the couch legs with neckties, one he had worn today, the other from his bag. He begins to pull and the couch moves slightly at the moderate effort.
“I wouldn’t do that.” Natalie’s voice is over him… behind him? She’s on the couch? Connor can’t see her. What he can see is the blinking light on the playstation’s webcam across the room, above the dark television. Set between two darkened windows.
It was hardly evening when he arrived.
“Natalie? What the fuck?”
“Listen closely,” she says. “You will follow every instruction I give you, to the letter, or your wife will get a copy of this footage in her email. It’s streaming to the cloud right now.”
Connor’s mind races, his heart accelerating. Yeah, the webcam is on. He’s naked. No matter what she does next, what does she think can she prove?
“I know what you’re thinking,” she says. “Always so analytical. You think nothing has happened yet. If you resist my instructions or pull yourself loose, I’ve got nothing on you. Except that you don’t know what you said to me over the past hour. And you don’t remember when I sucked you hard. Nice wax job, by the way. A lady always appreciates a smooth finish.”
Connor feels his cock twitch at that. His fully erect, smallish cock protruding from his hairless crotch. Leaking precum. He fells the heat rising in his cheeks.
“Kind of gave it away with that little speech, didn’t you?” he asks, the adrenaline coursing through his body, adding the growl to his voice.
“Easy fix. Pretty basic video editing, Connor,” says Natalie.
“My drink,” he says. “What did you do?”
“A little cocktail the lab rats cooked up to stop the formation of short term memories. And I mixed in a couple blue pills to keep things… entertaining.”
“What the hell are you thinking, Natty?” says Connor, straining to figure out where she’s sitting. He loops back and forth between raw physicality and the threat. “You drugged me? I don’t consent to this. And you won’t send the footage. I’ve known you for twenty years.”
“That’s kind of the point,” she says. “And yes I would. You think a few dinner dates and a monthly text exchange means you know me? It gets lonely being this badass, did you know that?”
“I hardly think…”
“Shut your fucking mouth.” A hand swings down from the couch and slaps Connor across the face.
“Goddammit!” Connor barks.
But it’s not Natalie’s head he sees first. Her rump appears over the cushions. Her small, arching feet and long toes. The dark skin of her anus, clenching a jeweled plug, haloed in fine brown hair. The yawning valley between her meaty, fleshy pussy lips, glistening in the dim lamp light, framed by trimmed, auburn curlies. He can smell the warm sex as her honey pot passes his nose. The drop of her round tits nearly to Connor’s face, tipped by long, firm, rosy peaks. And Natalie’s lovely mouth and shrewd, narrowed eyes.
Connor feels those damp pussy lips clinging to his chest and belly hair as Natalie glides lower to straddle him on his thighs. He feels the gush of precum rising through his urethra and oozing down his shaft.
“You sure you don’t consent?” says Natalie.
“Fuck you.”
She tips her head to the side. “No, too easy.” Turning, she looks at the camera. “Wave to Steph.”
“Why would you do this?” Connor asks.
“You remember last time we drank together? And we got ripped up on those piña coladas? You told me you had been writing erotica.”
Connor felt his throat go dry. His already pounding heart started crashing into his ribcage.
Natalie leans closer, until Connor can feel her breath on his lips. He’s keenly aware of his dick pressing into her abdomen. She whispers, “I found it.”
“Fffff…” But Connor doesn’t finish. Natalie’s tongue catches his chin, glides up his lips, over his nose, and up to the bridge.
“I know you want to fuck me. I’m in practically every story. You wrote about my goddamn dog.” She sits upright and begins touching the rounded bottom of her left breast. Then she begins to pinch and tweak the already hard nipple. Her eyes close as she hums. “But you’d never do it. You’d never do any of the depraved things you write about. You wouldn’t do it then. You won’t do it now. Or… you wouldn’t have. But now I’m in control.”
“Don’t do this.”
“Fuck you, Connor. You have to say that to appease your fucking conscience. But this is happening.”
“No fuck you, Natalie,” says Connor, pulling at his bindings, his chest flexing hard.
Natalie slaps his cock.
“Fuuuuck!” he grunts.
“I will ruin your fucking marriage, Connor! You fucking left me! You fucking left me in that hotel! We could have been happy. We would have been happy together. I was in love with you, you asshole. Don’t you fucking know that? Answer me!”
Connor exhales hard. In a small but deep voice, he says, “Yeah. I know.”
“Now do what you’re fucking told and give me what you owe me!”
He sighs. “Dammit.”
Natalie grips his cheeks. Hard. And she says, “Listen to me closely, Connor. If you don’t follow my instructions to the letter, I’m sending that fucking video. And I think by now you know I’m fucking serious.”
Clamping his eyes shut, Connor nods.
“That’s a good boy,” says Natalie, rising up from her perch on his thighs. When Connor opens his eyes, Natalie is straddling his face. “Now open your fucking mouth and keep it open.”
“What…”
She bats his head at the temple. “Open it! And keep your tongue inside until I tell you otherwise. And no more talking. You’re done talking!”
Stars fill Connor’s vision. Dammit this woman is strong. He opens his mouth. When his vision clears, he finds himself watching Natalie’s fingertip sliding up and down her crease. She pulls a little string of her own arousal to the sensitive nub peaking out from its pink hood. Her fingers begin to circle.
“Yeah, I’ve read your stories, you filthy fucker,” she says, a breathy hum in her throat. “I know all about your nasty fetishes. Pissing and anal and chicks with dicks… I bet you drink your own piss when you’re getting off. I bet you imagine it’s mine.” She plunges two fingers into her open cunt and then roughly smears the juice over Connor’s nostrils. “Well guess what? I’ve been pounding Fiji water for the last two hours. Now keep that mouth open and don’t move your tongue an inch, or Steph’s going to find a big surprise in her email tomorrow morning.”
If it’s possible for Connor’s cock to get any harder, it does, painfully so. Natalie hovers over his face so that Connor can feel the warmth radiating from her swampy, fragrant snatch. Thick, meaty lips curtain over the tip of his nose, despite their petaling. A fresh string of her pussy juice lands upon the corner of his mouth, and Connor desperately longs to press his tongue against it, taste it, probe his tongue up into that beautiful, auburn-framed gusset…
But he’s had a few minutes to think now. And he’s not positive she’ll make good on her promise. But he can’t risk it.
“Oh,” she moans. “Do you like this? You fucking love it. Are you imagining my hot piss firing into your mouth? My acrid water flowing down your chin?” Her hips begin to swirl with the smallest motion, the fleshy flaps of skin brushing his nose.
And then.
Natalie lowers herself so that Connor’s nose pokes right up into her sopping cunt.
“Smell me,” she says.
Connor sniffs. God fucking dammit. She wreaks of sex. The scent is heady and musky and fresh.
“I said smell my twat, you fucker!”
With a huge inhale, Natalie’s sex is so powerful that Connor’s vision nearly darkens. He hasn’t smelled a cunt in a long, long time. His cock dumps another flow of clear lubricant down his shaft. He can feel a slight chill on his balls from the wet that’s collecting in his pubic hair. He’s been dreaming about this for so, so long.
She begins to rise and fall, fucking Connor’s nose as she touches her clit. “Oh this is hot,” she says. “I can feel that hot piss inside me. Smell my little hole. Really smell it. Can you smell my pee?” A little dribble of warmth hits his upper lip.
Cock twitching hard, he can smell it. Holy fuck, he can smell Natalie’s piss. His mouth still open, a small drop lands on his tongue. Salty.
Sliding down his face, Natalie rubs her clit on Connor’s nose and then seals her cunt against his open mouth. “Don’t you dare move your tongue.” She’s completely still, and Connor’s heart thunders. He can feel the pulse in his neck, in his arms, in his cock as it bounces with every beat and drools his own arousal. “You’re going to drink me, Connor. Are you ready? Are you fucking ready to be my toilet?”
Her back arches, and she moans.
Hot, nasty urine hits Connor in the back of the throat. His tongue and mouth twitch. He might gag, but he holds it together. Dirty, acrid waste water fills Connor’s mouth.
“Don’t swallow, dirt bag,” says Natalie, but it has less punch, her voice laced as it is with breathy abandon. Pee fills his mouth to bursting, and Connor can feel the salty fluid seep from the seam between Natalie’s hairy cunt and his lips, urine flowing down his cheeks, into his ears and hair, running down his neck. His cock feels as though it may burst.
“Now,” she says. “Swallow. Swallow!”
It takes a few tries. Connor’s mouth is too full, and his throat doesn’t want to obey. But soon a salty gulp sounds, and he can feel Natalie’s liquid flowing warmly into his tummy.
“All of it,” she says, running her fingers through her hair and bearing down. Connor feels her jet forcefully hit his tongue as he swallows again and again. “Now lick me. Lick my clit.”
Piss flows over his chin as Connor’s tongue makes contact with Natalie’s peaking clitoris. She tastes incredible. It has been so long since he tasted pussy, but he never imagined he would taste a woman’s golden water. He licks up and around, bathing her clit in his saliva and her urine. Fuck, that smell!
“I’m going to cum,” Natalie breathes. Air is coming harder for her now. “Make me cum in you mouth, Connor. Make me… make me… oh yes…” Her moans rise in pitch, breathy and fragile. She begins to grind on his face as her urine flow peters out. “I’m… fuck… oooh fuck…”
And as Natalie cums, her pussy lips hugging his nose, tiny jets of liquid squirt onto Connor’s lips and chin. And his own taught body clenches with unbelievable force as a wave of endorphins course through him. He can feel his own lubricant dripping onto his scrotum, feel a pulsing within his prostate.
Did he just… cum?
Can a man cum without rubbing his dick on something?
“Is it everything you hoped for?” says Natalie, running her fingers through Connor’s hair. “Is my cunt everything you’ve imagined in your stories?”