Addicted (12 page)

Releasing the
leather straps, Gary hauled my naked body upright and turned me
round. Laying me on my back, my stinging buttocks over the edge of
the table, my sex crack gaping, my breasts exposed, he retied the
straps. Looking up at the ceiling as he stroked my wet and swollen
cunt lips, I knew he intended to enter me there, to fuck me there -
cunt-fuck my cunt.

A bolt of
crudity hit me. My femininity blatantly exposed, my body
defenceless to my neighbour, a sexual pervert, I sensed debauchery
course through my veins. Sex, cold, loveless sex. The notion
stimulated me beyond belief. I felt incredibly dirty.

"You've a nice
cunt," he smiled, slipping his finger deep into my vaginal canal.
"Hot, tight, wet... you have a beautiful cunt, Helen."

"Gary, please
give me your sperm now!" I cried pathetically in my craving as he
slipped his finger out of my drenched pussy sheath and left the
room.

I lay there
for what seemed like an age waiting for him to return. What was he
doing, where had he gone? Was my phone ringing? Was Tony trying to
get in touch with me, his faithful, loving wife? No, he'd wait
until the evening, until I'd been spermed, whipped and fucked to
the point of exhaustion.

Gary returned,
his body naked, the scent of soap filling the air. He was strong,
muscular, his penis huge in its erectness, his swinging balls
heavy. He leaned over my naked body and sucked on each nipple in
turn, stiffening my milk teats, darkening my areolae. Standing up,
satisfied that my nipples were aroused, he took two clothes pegs
from a small basket on the worktop.

The unfamiliar
sensations of pain and pleasure as he clipped the pegs to my milk
buds permeated my firm breasts. Tony had gently sucked my nipples
during our lovemaking, but never hurt them during lustmaking. We'd
never made lust, never used and abused each other's bodies. We'd
made love - we'd never fucked. Perhaps we should have done.

Grinning, Gary
moved between my legs and ran his knob up and down my gaping
vaginal crack, lubricating his glans with my pussy oil. Suddenly,
he drove into me, deep into my hot hole, stretching my vaginal
walls. My cunt milk issuing, running from my stretched sex sheath
and trickling between my burning buttocks, soothing my inflamed
anal ring, he withdrew and rammed into me again. I was a rag doll,
a shagged rag doll. My eyes closed as the sensations of sex built,
my clitoris swelling, I prayed that he'd caress me there, massage
me to orgasm as he fucked me, my burning cunt.

I hadn't seen
what he'd had in his hand, but it penetrated my anal canal,
stretching my sperm-drenched duct wide open. Gasping as my holes
expanded, I imagined that whatever it was deep inside my
bottom-hole was twice the size of his penis. I couldn't endure much
more of this perverse filth, it wasn't me. Was it?

Finding his
rhythm, he pistoned my holes, the pain and pleasure mingling,
becoming a heady blend of perverted sex, taking me to hitherto
unknown depths of sexual depravity. Immense shame and humiliation
swamped me, drowned me.

My pinched
nipples aching, my tethered body quivering, he at last massaged my
erect clitoris, bringing out a sensational multiple orgasm,
surpassing any other I'd ever experienced. Crying in my emotion, my
sex-induced emotion, tears of satisfaction rolling down the sides
of my head into my ears, I sensed his spunk gush into my vaginal
duct.

"God, I'm
coming!" he gasped, driving his penis into my cunt with a cruel
vengeance, spunking my cervix. "Coming up your tight cunt!" On and
on he thrust into me, sustaining my orgasm with his massaging
fingertips as he pistoned my bottom-hole with the cylindrical
object.

Barely
conscious, I whimpered in my coming until the beautiful sensations
began to wane and I drifted gently down from my sexual heaven like
a leaf falling from a tree. Although I'd been done, arse-fucked,
arse-whipped, cunt-fucked, spunked, I still needed my fix - a
mouth-fuck. But I had his sperm, I reflected, my vagina brimming as
he finally slid his lust rod and the cylindrical object out of my
sated body. Whatever happened now, I had his spunk safely sealed
within my hot cunt. No one could take that away from me.

"Still
desperate for my sperm?" he asked, grinning as he moved round the
table and towered above me.

"Yes, I need
sperm!" I gasped, my mouth dry, thirsty.

"I don't know
that I have any left."

"Please,
release my hands so I can scoop it out of my vagina. I must have
sperm now, Gary!"

"I'll scoop it
out for you."

Reaching
between my thighs, he thrust two fingers into my spermed cunt and
withdrew them. His hand only inches above my open mouth, he
hesitated. "Please!" I begged, eyeing the opaque liquid glistening
on his fingers. "Please, I must have it!" He moved his fingers
closer as I pushed my tongue out. He was playing games with me,
delighting in my plight, torturing me.

He thrust his
fingers into my cunt again, wiping the spunk over his balls,
creaming his ball bag until he was dripping. Kneeling on the table,
either side of my head, his balls over my mouth, he allowed me to
lap up the drug. "I need more than that!" I whimpered, savouring
the salty taste. "Much more!"

His penis
erect, wavering above my flushed face, he began to wank. I lay with
my mouth open, my tongue out, desperate for him to shower me with
his spunk. "Come!" I urged him as he gasped. "Please, come!" His
naked body tensing, his shaft swelling, I knew he was almost there
- I was almost there. Suddenly, it came, like a shower of white
rain, splattering my face, my tongue. Lifting my head as he
positioned his knob for a mouth-fucking, I took him inside and
drank his nectar. Sucking, mouthing, I drained the last of his
spunk from his heavy balls, swallowing the drug I so craved.

The effect
almost instantaneous, I lay there, satisfied, serene in my serenity
as he slipped his beautiful plum out of my mouth and climbed off
the table. Releasing the clothes pegs, my nipples sore and aching,
he untied the leather straps and helped me to sit up. My body
exhausted, the two holes between my legs inflamed, I slipped off
the table and staggered on my trembling legs.

"God!" I
gasped, eyeing the huge wet candle on the worktop. "Is that what
you used?"

"Yes, did you
enjoy it?" he asked, his brown hair dishevelled from recent
sex.

"No, I didn't.
I must be going, Gary."

"I'll see you
again, of course."

"I don't know,
maybe," I replied, tugging my skirt up my legs and grabbing my
blouse. He had me where he wanted me, and I hated it.

I left him
naked in his kitchen and staggered up the lane to my house,
wondering at the vile acts I'd been forced to endure. Arse-fuck. I
hated myself for what I'd done. I'd defiled my body, allowed my
body to be used for crude perverted sex. Tears rolled down my
cheeks as I opened my front door and entered the marital home.
Marriage? Vows? Adultery, wanton adultery.

In my studio,
I slipped my clothes off and lay on the old Chesterfield, my mind
racked with guilt, fear and shame. I was a whore, a tart, a filthy
bitch. Adulteress? The word was nowhere near strong enough to
describe what I'd done! Anal sex, the harsh words battered my mind.
Never again! I vowed, swearing to get even with Gary. No matter how
long it took, I'd get even with the bastard!

Sitting up and
grabbing the ringing phone, I cringed as Tony asked me where I'd
been. "Walking," I replied, toying with my protruding inner lips as
I parted my thighs wide.

"Walking?
Christ, Helen, you're never in when I phone!"

"Yes, I am!
I've been working, taking walks... I can't stay in the house
twenty-four hours a day, Tony!" He was beginning to annoy me.

"Is everything
OK?"

"Yes, of
course it is."

"You seem
different. You sound different, Helen."

"Do I?"

"Yes, you do.
Something's happened, hasn't it?"

"Tony, the
only thing that's happened is that I've been working too hard!"

"Now you're
shouting at me. Something's not right, I know it, I can sense
it."

"Fucking hell,
Tony!"

"Helen, I...
Never in all the years I've known you have I heard you swear."

"I'm sorry,
I've been working too hard, that's all."

"I'm coming
home. Something's wrong, I'm catching the next flight home."

Replacing the
receiver as he hung up, I sighed. My shaved cunt, my weal-lined
buttocks... he'd know what I'd been up to. I lay down with one foot
on the floor and the other over the back of the sofa, my cunt slit
gaping. Finger-fucking my sex hole with one hand, I masturbated my
solid clitoris with the other, taking myself to one massive orgasm
after another. What was I doing? And why? What had I become?

Tony would be
home by late evening if he managed to get a flight. Home to his
devoted, loving wife - his fucking filthy prostitute. The end of a
marriage, the end of an era. I'd leave him, explain that I wasn't
happy and leave him, I decided as another orgasm gripped me in its
velvety glove. Move to another town and... and what? And become
Suzie.

I woke in my
bed the following morning, the events of yesterday slowly filtering
into my tormented mind - Gary, the buttock caning, anal sex...
Never would I allow a man to enter me there again, my bottom, my
arse - arsehole. I didn't want to hear that obscene word again. It
was a word I'd never thought I'd hear during sex. Cold sex, vile,
indecent, corrupt. Anal intercourse, the thought disgusted me,
sickened me, and I wondered at my sanity. I must have been crazy to
allow Gary to fuck me there. Common tart, strumpet, immoral
slag.

Turning my
head, I gazed at the plump pillow beside me and breathed a sigh of
relief - Tony wasn't there. Perhaps he was in the kitchen? I
thought fearfully, leaping out of bed and bounding downstairs -
forgetting my nakedness, my hairless cunt, my inflamed, cane-lashed
buttocks.

Had I enjoyed
the cane? I wasn't sure. The stinging pain mingling with incredible
pleasure had excited me, wetted me, but... but what? Bondage,
caning, anal abuse... what the hell was I becoming? I wasn't
looking forward to visiting Gary again. I'd do my utmost to fight
my addiction - and never visit Gary again.

I searched the
house and garden, Tony wasn't home, thank God! An early morning
flight, perhaps? He might arrive at lunchtime. The nightmare was
mind-blowing! I didn't know whether I was more fearful of Tony
discovering my dark secrets, the ruination of my marriage, or... I
was more fearful of my transformation from a faithful, loving wife
to a common slut. My adultery was so blatant, so crude and debased,
that I found difficulty remembering the old me. Where had Helen
gone? Depression touched me.

I sat on the
lawn gazing at the house, the home we'd been so happy in. I'd
destroyed everything, wrecked my marriage, my life - not to mention
Tony's! The will of God? I again wondered. The will of Satan, more
than likely!

The grass
soft, like green hairs tickling my naked vaginal lips, I sat
cross-legged, looking down at my open pussy crack - my adulterous
cunt. I'd abused my body, forsaken my femininity. I'd behaved as
I'd never have believed I would. I wanted my waxen phallus to
candle-fuck my cunt, dildo-fuck my cunt. I wanted Tony. No, I
didn't. What did I want? I didn't want to be afraid of Tony's
return, the explanations, the justifications, the excuses. It was
my life, I was a married woman, but I still had my own life, my
individuality, and I didn't see why I had to explain anything to
anyone.

I'd shaved my
cunt, so what? After all, it was my cunt! I'd tell Tony that I was
my own woman, that I... no, I wouldn't. What was the point in
planning what I'd say when I knew damn well I'd say nothing of the
sort? I'd done what I'd done and that was that. I couldn't change
the past, I couldn't deny my addiction - and I wasn't going to
explain anything to anyone.

I lay back on
the grass with my legs outstretched, my thighs wide, the sun
bathing my gaping cunt crack. Cunt crack, a term I'd never have
thought I'd use. Fuck, cunt, cock, spunk, arsehole... I'd changed,
changed from Mrs Helen Hunter the artistic wife, the dinner party
hostess, the elegant, graceful young woman with a brilliant future
ahead of her, into... into Suzie, the common slut.

But Gary had
destroyed Suzie. Suzie the prostitute was no longer able to
prostitute herself. Not unless she moved to new killing fields,
sperming fields, away from the local common to fresh pastures,
fresh milking pastures. Suzie was still there, lurking, waiting,
biding her time.

Fingering my
open pussy hole, massaging my erect clitoris, the beautiful
sensations uplifted me. Crude sex for the sake of crude sex. Should
Tony walk into the garden and catch me in my wantonness, then so be
it. It was if all that had happened was meant to happen, I
reflected. Was it merely coincidence that Tony should go on
business trips and I should discover my addiction to sperm? Was it
coincidence that Lydia, a self-confessed lesbian, had come to me
laden with sperm? Was Gary's discovery of my addiction a
coincidence? No, all that had happened was meant to be. I was
following my path in life, my destiny. But where to next? What was
to happen next? I'd known love, I now knew lust. I'd known
fidelity, I now knew promiscuity. I'd known passion, I now knew
addiction.

I ignored the
ringing phone, as was becoming my wont. Masturbation should be
uninterrupted, a long, slow uninterrupted act of self-loving. My
clitoris throbbed, the sensations stealing through my body and
seeping into my very being. Orgasm was coming, the eruption, the
beautiful explosion of a self-induced sexual climax.