Their names are Cindi and Ken, but you figure out which is which.
Me? I’m 5’6″ tall, and I have long chestnut colored straight hair with burgundy highlights and lots of bangs over my green eyes. I wear a size four in most things and have a rock hard bod if I do say so myself. It didn’t come easily, I workout four times a week to stay hard and hot. Am I a narcissist? Sure. Why not? I love to dance, dress in fetish wear, tease the hell out of guys and make the other ladies in my neighborhood hate me for my “talents.” Get the picture? Good.
Oh yeah, I also love to fuck. Can’t forget that, can I?
This is going to be a series of episodes. I’m not sure how many that will be up to you, the readers. If you like them, let me know, I’ll keep them going until I run out of my escapades.
It all started about 18 years ago. I was a senior in college, majoring in, “Husband Finding 101,” with a minor in psychology. Rob was a jock, err, maybe a jerk?
He was captain of the football team, quite handsome, hard bodied and with a cock that would make a mule jealous. We fell in lust at once, we spent our senior year fucking like they were making it illegal. I married him right after graduation.
I spent the next two years being pregnant, first with Ken, then with Cindi.
They were and still are the best parts of my marriage. Rob and I were divorced three years ago, it seemed that his ambition in life was to spend his weekends with his buddies playing touch football and drinking beer. Fortunately, the moron made gobs of money and we had a fabulous home and I got a really hot BMW Z4 out of the deal. Thankfully, now I’m free.
The reality of divorce hit me about six months after we separated. I needed to find a job to keep us going. His alimony and child support weren’t cutting it.
Not having ever really held a job after graduation, it was tough. I managed to find some part time gigs, but nothing that would really do the job. I applied to a dozen clinics as a counselor and psych. therapist, but with no luck.
Being a bit desperate, I saw an ad for dancers in a local club, that I can do for sure, I love to dance. I guessed that they were putting on some kind of show and wanted back-up dancers for a singer. I stopped by the club one night, dressed in a little black vinyl mini skirt and satin tie-top with platform heels, my hair done up to the 9’s and lots of makeup. When I opened the door, I was a bit unnerved, it was a strip club and they wanted pole dancers. Oops!
“Well, I’m here,” I thought to myself.
The manager looked me over like I was a piece of steak, very creepy to be sure. He pointed to the pole and grunted. Now, I’m no blushing virgin, but pole dancing? Really . . .
“OK, well just once for the fuck of it,” I said softly.
I ran up on the stage, grabbed the pole and hopped up. The next five minutes were a bit of a blur. I do however, vividly recall the feeling of the cold steel pole rubbing against my satin panties, and pressing against my pussy lips. The more I slid around, the hotter I got. I found it hard to stop, and my panties were soaking wet when I finally got down. I wanted so badly to jam my fingers into my pussy and cum that I almost ran to the ladies’ room and did exactly that before I left the club. I’m sure that the manager saw my reddened face as I ran to relieve myself of my sexual tension. Quite honestly, it was the best orgasm that I had experienced for several years. Oh yeas, I got the job, and started that very night.
I was as nervous as a virgin in a whore house, but I did my shift, I smiled at the guys, they stuffed bills into my panties and made crude remarks. I became friends with two of the other girls, Lisa and Barbie(really) who gave me pointers how to survive the ordeal. The night was long, but successful, I made more than $300.00.
I got home at 4:00 A.M., and promptly fell asleep until lunchtime the next day.
I’m a working girl! Now, I figured, three shifts a week plus Saturday night and I’m rolling in clover. The next few weeks were a learning experience, I learned how to coax more cash out of the suckers, how to smile as they made crass remarks, and how to duck a flying glass. Yeah, this was one classy joint.
One Saturday night, the manager told Lisa and me that they were hosting a special party and that we were going to be the entertainment. Lisa was going to do a double on the same pole with me, the clients wanted to see a lesbian show and we were it! Now, I must confess that I am not a lesbian. I like a good, hard cock in my pussy or especially jammed hard into my ass way too much to become one.
Like most girls though, I had day dreamed about being with another hot girl, and nearly did while I was away in college.
She was beautiful, sexy as all hell, and a fellow cheerleader. We were both very drunk, and wound up falling asleep in each other’s arms before anything could happen.
Lisa looked at me and told me “Not to worry, it’s easy, and the guys throw cash at you like crazy.”
That sounded good to me.
The scenario was simple and predictable. I was to be the virgin, Lisa was to be the Dominatrix who would seduce and subjugate me. I would be wearing pink, lace panties, a pink lace shelf-bra and pink platform heels. Very virginal, for sure.
Lisa would wear black leather, thigh-high boots, a black leather, studded thong and bra with a matching-studded collar and cuffs. The mere description of the outfit made me want one.
Saturday night came quickly. We were ready to go on at midnight. Lisa looked fabulous, and she was getting me hot just looking at her. I could imagine myself wearing that very outfit, with a man’s hair in my fist, pushing him to the ground as my slave.
“Oh, gotta get with it girl,” I told myself.
I went on stage first and jumped onto the pole and began to rub up and down on it, then Lisa entered, the guys went wild over her. She took a riding crop that I had not seen before and slapped by ass really hard. I nearly fell off the pole from the shock of it. This was definitely NOT in the script. Lisa jumped on the pole with me and we gyrated around for a while, she groped my body and play masturbated me through my panties, I acted shocked, (I was!) And we played out the scene for the required six minutes. When we left the pole and stood on the raised stage, Lisa pushed me gently down onto my back. She straddled my body with her knees, and whispered to me,
“Act cool, the guys will go nuts over this,”
I shook my head “Yes.”
Then, without warning, she pulled my panties to the side and took the handle of the riding crop and stuffed it into my pussy and began to masturbate me with it.
My eyes must have opened up so wide that they nearly popped out. I was shocked, but so turned on after the third thrust that I relaxed and started to moan like crazy. Lisa saw that this was not an act and kept it up, thrusting the hard, leather shaft in and out with speed and power. I didn’t want this to ever stop. I was in pig heaven. I began to climax in what seemed like seconds. I arched my back and screamed as I came. I could feel myself squirt for the first time in my life.
I was completely spent. I lay there with Lisa on top of me, kissing me passionately, and with me returning the kisses. I finally managed to recoup my composure and stand up, with Lisa’s help. We stumbled off to the dressing room, forgetting to gather our money. The manager followed us in and gave us the cash, we made nearly
$1000.00 each for the act!
However, it was not all an act. Lisa and I stood there in the room with the door locked. We just looked at each other for what seemed an eternity. I opened my arms up and Lisa immediately fell into them. We kissed and kissed for so long that we were sweating like pigs. My hand found its way into her thong, and I pleasured her to climax. I withdrew my fingers from her pussy and stuffed them into my mouth and sucked her pussy juice off them. She went wild, we fell onto the couch and spent the next hour licking each others pussies and finger fucking each other over and over. I must have climaxed a million times. I kept Cumming and Cumming. I had never before experienced such a magnificent and primal session of sexual abandon. No man had ever done this to me, not even close.
I looked at the clock on the wall. It was 3:00 A.M. Time to go home. Lisa and I managed to get our street clothes back on, and after an attempt to fix my makeup, we laughed and started out to our cars. Since I love fetish wear, my street clothes were not too much more covering than my pole dancing wear . . .
As this was the middle of August, and the night was as hot as the day, I had worn a neon pink spandex micro skirt and bra top as my street wear, along with stiletto heel, platform, pink pumps. Not exactly an outfit for the PTA meeting.
Then, it happened. I managed to drive about half way home when my car sputtered and died. Luckily, I managed to coast to the side of the road. I cranked it and cranked it. Nothing. Then it hit me, “Oh Fuck, I forgot to get gas this afternoon.”
Here I am, 3:00a.m, dressed like a stripper, (oops, I am one!) and with no help in sight. Whom do I call at this hour to rescue me? I’m on a back road and I have not seen a car in 20 minutes. I started to cry uncontrollably.
I never saw the lights. I heard a knocking on my side window. I was so shocked that I nearly passed out. I looked up and through my tear-filled eyes saw a shiny gold badge.
“OH FUCK,” I said loudly.
The officer motioned for me to roll my window down. I was so frightened I forgot how to do it . . .
I started to cry again.
The officer then opened my door up as I sat there crying like a baby. He asked me if I was OK, I guess I said yes, I think I babbled on and on for minutes, I have no idea what I said, I was so upset. He listened intently, I think I began to make sense, because I remember telling him my name, and showing him my license and stuff. I started to relax. He was very nice to me and quite comforting.
Then, he asked me to step out of the car. I panicked and started to cry again. I was dressed like a whore, was I going to be arrested, what about my kids at home was all that I could think.
But he was very nice, he actually said I was very pretty and that he would stay with me until road service came to give me gas. He told me that I was not in trouble, he had asked me to get out of the car so that if the car was hit by another, I would not be hurt. We stepped to the side of the road and waited.
Being the kind of girl that I am, I gave him a good hard look and checked him out. Not bad . . . tall, very well built, short sandy-blonde hair, blue eyes and a killer smile. Arms like tree trunks, and a rock hard belly. His grey uniform fit like it was hand tailored, not a ripple anywhere, his shiny, black leather, knee-high boots set off the black leather motorcycle jacket that he wore with his name and shield so prominent. I figured him to be a few years younger then I am, and apparently not married.
“Now, that’s a man,” I thought to myself.
I felt the long-lost tingle starting to grow between my legs.
I felt instantly at ease. I blurted out my entire life story, and told him where I worked and why, he said little, he just listened. I think that I bent his ear for about a half-hour before the road service guy arrived. I managed to look at his hand once again, I saw no ring other than a college ring.
“Are you married?” I stammered out in the middle of saying something else.
“No, Ma’am,” he politely answered.
“Very professional,” I thought.
“Well, Officer Johnson, do you have a first name, or is it officer?” I laughed.
“Eddie,” he answered. “Just Eddie.”
“OK, just Eddie,” I quipped.
We both laughed. I paid off the gas guy and he left. Eddie and I stood there in silence. Who would break the unwritten code of boy/girl awkwardness and speak first?
“Eddie – Erika” we both spoke at the same time. Silence . . . we looked at each other and laughed again.
“You first,” I said.
“Ma’am, I can get into a lot of trouble for saying this, but you seem so nice, I would love to have dinner with you tomorrow if you are free. I don’t mean to push you or anything, and I’m sorry if I am out of line, but . . .”
I cut him off with a finger across his lips.
“Shhhsh . . .” I whispered.
“Yes, I would love to have dinner with you, officer Eddie, what time, is good for you?”
“Eight?” he answered.
“Do you like to ride?” he added.
“Sure, see you then, sexy!”
I turned and got into my car and roared off toward home. I was smiling like a Cheshire cat who just ate the bird.
My first real date in three years!
Oh yes, I lied a bit, I had never been on a motorcycle before, but for this stud, I would climb a mountain. The ride home was just a blur, I was so tired and exhausted from Lisa and me having sex, that I must have just fallen into bed still dressed. I awoke the next day about 10:00A.M. when my cell phone went off.
Fumbling around for it, I realized that I never got undressed, nor actually made it into bed, I had slept on top of the covers all night.
The call was from Eddie, he texted me, “Hi doll, dress to ride, C.U. at eight.”
I managed to get myself into the shower and finally get the day started. The kids were already up and gone, so I had some peace and quiet. About 11, Lisa called me and thanked me for the wonderful tryst we had. I could tell from her voice that she was very turned on. Her breathy and melodic voice gave her away. I asked her,
“Lisa, are you playing with yourself?”
“Yes, I am. I am so very hot for you that I need to cum. Will you join me, please?” she asked.
I had never had sex on a phone before, I always thought it was stupid, but today, well,
“OK, Lisa, what do you want me to do?”
“Tell me what you are wearing,” she asked.
“I am in a black baby-doll and spike heels, with a chain collar on my neck that is very tight,” I lied to her.
“Then take your fingers and lick them and stick them into your pussy and make your clit cum for you,” she demanded.
I complied. The next 15 minutes were fabulous, I climaxed twice with Lisa, and made sure to lick my fingers after each climax, I really do taste good!
That afternoon, I decided to get my outfit ready for my date, If I was going riding, I should look the part, I surmised. Being a fetishist and pole dancer has some benefits. My closet is full of sexy and slutty things to wear.
I picked out a pair of 80’s vintage, skin tight, shiny, black spandex, disco jeans that fit like a glove. For a top I decided on my studded black leather bra that I dance with, and a pair of fingerless black leather gloves that are also studded.
I found my black vinyl ankle boots with a 7-inch heel and platform to add to the look, which I thought was really hot.
All I needed was a jacket, so, off to town I went.
I knew that there was a Harley dealer just across town, so it was my first stop.
Lucky for me, they had girls’ clothes. I found a crop length, black lambskin leather, Marlon-Brando style jacket with a huge embroidered Harley eagle on the back.
It had lots of zippers and several pockets all adorned with studs and steel rings and chain. Just the ticket, and it fit so well, I had to have it.
On the way home, I stopped and had my nails done, and my hair blown out in a really wild style. Once I got home, it was crunch time, I had to get ready for my date.
I was as nervous as a prom date, amazing at my age, but true. When I finally finished putting myself together, I looked in the mirror and amazed myself. I looked HOT. Maybe my makeup was a bit over the top, but what the hell, right?
My concession to my love of slutty behavior was a studded leather collar with a large “D” ring in front of my neck, and a bright, fuscia-colored belt with a sliver rhinestone-encrusted buckle that proudly stated, “SLAVE” in huge letters.
Promptly at 7:55 P.M., I heard the unmistakable sound of a Harley pull up in front of my house.
“BRRRING, BRRRING,” the door bell shook me out of my foggy headed thoughts.
I walked to the door, pasted a smile on my face and opened it up. There he was, and he was all mine for the night. He held as single yellow rose in his shaking hand. He was as frightened as I was! He bowed his head and said,
“My lady, your chariot awaits you.”
Wow, what a hunk. I had never seen him in the light of day, and with the sun slowly sinking behind him in the Western sky, it framed him perfectly as he stood before me. Eddie is the epitome of a powerful man, tall, rock hard body with thighs and upper arms like tree trunks and a chiseled face and a smile that would melt ice. He was certainly decked out for riding, knee-high biker boots shined like bright pennies, skin tight leather jeans with a codpiece, a removable panel over his crotch, adorned with numerous studs. On his upper body he wore a black latex tee-shirt, tight to the neck with a stand-up collar. To top it all off, he had a fantastic looking biker jacket, similar to the one I bought, but obviously well worn and loved. He had long, fitted, gauntlet gloves that covered his lower arms and were studded with bright chrome studs as well.
“Hi, sexy, you look fabulous, are you ready to ride?” was his entree.
“Yes, especially if you want to ride me . . . er, I mean if you want to go riding with me . . .” I replied coyly, attempting to get the point across.
I made sure that my jacket was wide open so that he could appreciate that I had only a small leather bra on underneath. From the look of his crotch, he got the idea, loud and clear. Eddie took me by the hand and led me out to the bike, a beautiful black and silver full dress Harley. I had never seen a more beautiful piece of machinery before. He took my jacket in his hands and zipped it up for me
making sure that his hands brushed my tits on the way up with the zipper. I only purred a bit, for his entertainment. Ok, mine too . . .
He gave me an obviously brand new helmet that he had strapped on the bike and fitted it to my head. So much for the new hairdo.
I put my leg over the bike and took my seat behind him. I made sure to throw my arms around him and hold on as tightly as I could as he roared away. The first few minutes were a mixture of terror and excitement. I had never ridden before and not being in control frightened me. Then I felt me heart calm down, my breathing slowed and I began to enjoy the wonderful feeling of freedom as we sped off into the warm evening air. An exhilarating feeling swept over me and I was not only enjoying the ride, but feeling Eddies strong body pressed against mine was having wonderful effects in my panties!
Eddie could tell that I was enjoying the ride, I felt him speed up as we rode into the long curves of the coast highway, sweeping through them so effortlessly and almost lyrically.
A half-hour into the ride and we were at our destination at the shore, a lovely secluded beach with a shore front “restaurant,” more like a stand, but fun to be at none the less.
Eddie helped me off the bike and took my helmet along with his and laid them on the bike. I tried to fluff my hair, but I gave up. Eddie smiled and brushed my bangs over my forehead with his hand and said,
“Erika, you look beautiful to me.”
What more does a girl need to hear? Dinner was fun, fried clams on a paper plate. Elegant? No, but I wouldn’t have traded it for the world. Eddie fed me with his fingers, never allowing me to touch the food. He said that he didn’t want me to get my hands greasy, and that it was his duty to take care of me. I think I am in love already . . .
We traded compliments about what we were each wearing, I could see in his eyes that he was very excited by my outfit and that his own apparent fetishes were showing. He proudly told me of his leather and latex wardrobe and how much he enjoyed riding when fully dressed in fetish, and his love of boots.
I told him how much I liked his latex tee-shirt that seemed to hit a note, he smiled deeply and nodded “yes.”
I asked him if he wanted to take a walk along the beach, the sun was setting and it looked so romantic. He immediately said “Yes,” and off we went.
I think we walked for miles, I could no longer see where we had come from, and it was past sunset now.
I had been feeling like I needed to pee for some time, but had held it in as I hoped we would walk back to the stand, but it was not to be. I really had to go.
I told Eddie of my plight and he stood silent for a minute. He then looked at me and said, “No problem, Erika.”
He put his left leg out forward of his body.
“Wrap your legs around my left leg and just let go.”
“What?” I asked in a shocked voice.
“You heard me, wrap your legs around mine and pee in your pants, do it now!”
I was so turned on that I almost came . . . I stepped forward and did as told, I wrapped my legs tightly around his left leg and hugged his body tightly with both arms. I looked up at him and out lips met for the first time. WHAM!
My brain felt like ti exploded. Without thinking, I let go and my piss flowed down my pants legs and onto his. I must have pissed a gallon. I was so full. I heard and saw it flow down the leather-covered leg and into his beautiful boot. I was ashamed of ruining it. We kissed and kissed. I think I actually orgasmed while we were holding each other, I felt like I was on fire inside. When I had finished peeing, I relaxed my hold on him and apologized profusely for wetting his boots and leathers. I completely lost sight of the fact that my own pants were soaked and my own boots were filling up.
“I’m so sorry, Eddie,” I apologized.
“For what? You just fulfilled one of my deepest fantasies, my lady.”
“Really?” I questioned.
“Absolutely, now watch and learn,” he said.
With that, he closed his eyes for a few seconds and as I gazed at his pants, I could see the unmistakable evidence of him pissing in his own pants, his leathers were glistening with wetness, and it was flowing out of the seams on its way down his legs and into his boots.
“That was so intense, I never did that before, but can we do it again?” I begged.
Eddie just smiled and took my hand as we walked back to the bike, both soaking wet and so terribly hot for each other. We got about a hundred yards when I stopped and kneeled down, I grabbed the codpiece of his leathers and pulled the snaps open. His cock popped out, rigid and ready. I looked up at his face and opened my mouth wide. His cock slid into my mouth so easily, I let it find it’s home deep in my throat and closed my lips gently, I moved my head for and back, sliding along his cock like a lollipop.
Eddie was as hot as I was, I felt his pre cum beginning flowing almost at once. In less than five minutes, he was bucking and moaning like a little girl. He came in my mouth so wonderfully, I swallowed every precious drop of his seed like it was a fine wine.
He reached down and pulled me up by my shoulders, he took my head in his hands and stuck his tongue in my mouth and tried as hard as he could to pull every drop of his cum out of my mouth and into his. I think we kissed until we were both exhausted, and started back to the bike once again.
Eddie held his arm around my waist like I was in custody. He held me so tightly that I felt like I was part of him, not a bad thing, I must admit. We chatted and laughed at our escapades and along the way I said,
“You are a kinky freak, aren’t you?”
“Does that bother you, Erika?” he asked.
“Hell, No, I think it’s great. Wait till you get to know me better, I might shock you, baby!”
“Not likely, not likely at all,” he smirked.
He spun me around so quickly that I didn’t know what was happening, then I felt my arms pull behind my back and I heard a “click.” He had handcuffed my arms behind my back in seconds.
“Where did they come from?” I asked.
“My jacket, never leave home without them,” he laughed.
Eddie then reached into my open jacket and around my back. I felt the snap on my leather bra open, he then pulled it off and stood in front of me admiring my bared tits.
“EDDIE,” I shrieked, “What are you doing?”
“Pulling your bra off, you silly bunny,” he laughed.
“Your belt buckle says, “SLAVE,” So, I’m making you mine, I’m your new Master, err, if that’s OK with you.”
Chivalry . . . asking me if it’s OK to become a slave . . . Really now!
He bent forward and took each tit into his mouth in order, licking and sucking them like a tender child would do. His touch and his mannerisms were driving me to distraction. Them, without warning, he bit down on my left nipple, sending a wave of glorious pain through my entire body.
“Baby, I want to be everything to you, make me your slut and your slave, I beg of you.”
Without a further word, Eddie reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a pair of spring loaded nipple clamps that were connected by a silver chain, and promptly put them onto my nipples. OUCH! They were strong clamps and they hurt, big time!
“Thank you, Master,” flowed from my lips just as he kissed me once again.
We finally reached the bike about midnight. He released my hands from the handcuffs, (darn!) so that I could hold on for the ride back home, but he did not take the nipple clamps off, I asked him not to. The ride home was so sweet that I lost track of where we were. I was floating on a cloud and never wanted it to stop.
We reached my home about a half-hour later. Eddie helped me off the bike with our helmets still on. We got to my door and went inside. I grabbed his hand and dragged him into my bedroom. I ripped the cod piece off of his pants and pulled the zipper of my piss soaked spandex jeans down and part way up my backside. Nothing better for sex than 80’s style spandex with a zipper that goes from the front, all the way to the back of the pants, ultimately allowing them to separate in two halves. I pulled him onto my bed, and with our jackets and helmets still on, fucked like wild animals. Eddie’s piss soaked leathers squished against my soaked pants as we made crazy love. The dark face-plates of the helmets made it nearly impossible to see each other in the darkened room, only adding to the intensity of the moment.
He eventually shot his hot load of cum into my soaked pussy, I was in pig heaven, my first date in three years was successful, and I was deep in lust.
We crawled into the shower after completely exhausting each other and fell sound asleep in my bed.
The next morning, we awoke and after a good breakfast and some bunny-like ass fucking over the kitchen table, Eddie left for his home.
We texted all day long, with the messages getting more and more perverted, Eddie was as kinky as I am . . . thank goodness.