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It’s my ritual. Masturbation. Playing in my pussy. Bringing myself to orgasm. Fantasizing about being gang-banged in an abandoned building. Being fucked like a slut. Being tossed around like a two-bit, cum-loving whore. Naked women wearing harnesses and strap-ons with soft skin, full breasts, long tongues, and wet, horny pussies fucking me, choking me, stroking multiple orgasms out of me.
Oh yes…
Tongue hot. Pussy churning. Hard nipples rasping against the fabric of my lace bra, my print jersey shift dress is hiked up over my smooth, round hips as I play out my fantasy in my head.
As an educated, professional woman—who sits on the board of directors for numerous organizations and has spent practically her entire life fighting for women’s rights and speaking out against injustices against women, the fact that I have this desire to be gang-banged rolling around in my head is almost ludicrous. No, it is ludicrous.
It’s crazy.
But I can’t shake it.
The images.
Being dragged behind a dumpster or the back of a dilapidated building or forced into an abandoned car on the side of railroad tracks and fucked mercilessly. The urgency that comes with being fucked multiple times over and over and over by random participants, cunts exploding in my mouth, cocks fucking into my holes. My pussy wet with spit and cum, my throat raw.
In my personal and professional life, I’d never allow myself to be disrespected. Calling me anything other than my name, Ebony Jaleesa Rice—or maybe a pet name if we’re intimate—is a no-no. To do so is grounds for getting cursed out from A-Z. Or worse…getting slapped.
But behind closed doors, in the throes of hot, sweaty, shameless sex, I welcome it. Calling me whore, and bitch, and slut. It heats my pussy.
I am a walking contradiction. I should not have these kinds of twisted thoughts. Should not have these kinds of desires. But I do. And the hushed conversations, the whispered giggles, the sideway glances, the accusatory fingers that would sure follow if any part of my secret fantasy came to light all fuel my sick want.
“There she is. Nasty bitch.”
“Someone said she was found naked, gagged and bound.”
“I heard they fucked her in all three holes.”
“I heard she liked it rough.”
“I knew that bitch was a whore.”
Oooh, yes…mmm…
Yes, I’m a whore! A dirty, filthy, fuck-box!
Oh, fuck me! Fuck my slutty pussy!
I lean back in my leather, high-back chair and spread my legs wider. My ass sinks de
eper into the memory foam cushion of the seat as my fingers press against my clit, just so. Then slip into the softness, the slickness between my legs, into the hot slit where warm juices lubricate my pussy and coat its swollen lips.
I feel myself about to be swept up in a thrashing wave of carnal need. The need to feel a tongue in my pussy, a finger in my ass, a cock in my throat; the need to be fucked from the back, fucked sideways, fucked upside down. The burning need to smell pussy, to taste it, juicy and wet; to feel it, hot and horny and pulsing. To have my face pressed into its musky, sweet feminine odor.
To be forced to eat it. To have my face smeared in it. To have my head yanked back and my face slapped. To be thrown to the ground, hands held down, legs snatched open, and one cock-wielding woman after another, fucking me over and over.
Dirty whore!
Slut!
I close my eyes.
I am on the verge of climax, my sex spasming as I delve my fingers deeper into my slippery slit. My mouth is full of saliva, drooling at the thought of my wet tongue laving a clit, feeling it swell against my licking tongue as I slowly suck it between my lips, then use my mouth so that it almost feels as if it’s fucking a wet juicy cunt.
In my mind’s eyes, my fingers become replaced with the cocks of three women. One woman is beneath me. I am straddling her. The second is in back of me. They are double-penetrating me. Both of their cocks stretching open my cunt. I am screaming and gaging as the third woman shoves her dick into my mouth, fucking my throat. Woman number three’s cock is neither as long as woman number one’s nor as huge as woman number two’s. But it’s thick, and it’s one of the prettiest shades of purple I’ve ever seen. She pulls it from out of my throat, slaps my face and lips with it.
In my head, I grip it with my hand. Take control of it as I take it back into my mouth and massage the tip with my lips as if it were a real dickhead. I imagine it being her clit. Imagine my lips squeezing hard around it, sucking her creamy juices out.
Oooh yessss…
