Ankara Travesti ve Çankaya Travesti: Bir Topluluğun İhtiyaçları ve Yaşam Alanları

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Ankara, Türkiye’nin başkenti olarak pek çok farklı kültür ve topluluğa ev sahipliği yapmaktadır. Bu topluluklardan biri de travesti bireylerdir. Travestilik, bireylerin cinsiyet kimlikleriyle uyumlu olmayan bir dış görünüm sergilemesiyle ilgili bir kavramdır. Ankara’da bu kimliği yaşayan pek çok insan, toplumsal zorluklarla karşılaşsalar da, destekleyici topluluklar ve güvenli alanlar yaratma yolunda önemli adımlar atmaktadırlar. Çankaya ise, bu bireyler için özellikle sosyal açıdan daha erişilebilir ve kapsayıcı bir bölge olarak öne çıkmaktadır.

Travesti Kimliği Nedir?

Travesti, cinsiyet kimliği ve dış görünümünü değiştirme arzusuyla, doğuştan atanan cinsiyetlerinden farklı bir şekilde yaşamayı tercih eden bireyler için kullanılan bir terimdir. Travestilik, cinsiyet geçişi süreci ya da sadece dış görünüşteki değişimi ifade edebilir. Bu, tamamen kişisel bir tercihtir ve her bireyin deneyimi farklıdır.

Ankara’daki Travesti Topluluğu

Ankara, travesti bireylerin hem sosyal olarak varlıklarını sürdürebileceği hem de kendilerini ifade edebileceği çeşitli alanlara sahiptir. Kentin çeşitli mahallelerinde, özellikle gece hayatı ve kültürel etkinliklerle tanınan bölgelerde travesti bireyler bir araya gelmektedir.

Ankara’daki travesti topluluğunun, hem sosyal hem de psikolojik açıdan birbirine destek olabilmesi için bir dizi mekan ve grup bulunmaktadır. Bu gruplar, güvenli bir ortamda travesti bireylerin deneyimlerini paylaşmalarını ve birbirlerine yardımcı olmalarını sağlar. Ayrıca, toplumsal farkındalık oluşturan etkinlikler ve organizasyonlar da, travesti kimliğini kabul eden bir toplum yaratma amacını taşır.

Çankaya Travesti Topluluğu

Çankaya, Ankara’nın en gelişmiş ve modern ilçelerinden biri olarak, travesti bireyler için özellikle dikkat çekici bir bölgedir. Çankaya’da travesti bireyler için çeşitli sosyal mekanlar ve destek grupları bulunur. Bu, bölgedeki travesti bireylerin, kimliklerini özgürce ifade edebildikleri ve toplumsal destek alabildikleri anlamına gelir. Özellikle Çankaya’nın daha açık fikirli ve hoşgörülü yapısı, bu bireyler için önemli bir güvenli alan yaratır.

Çankaya, sosyal yardımların ve kültürel etkinliklerin yaygın olduğu, Ankara Travesti LGBTQ+ topluluğunun daha fazla görünür olduğu bir ilçedir. Travesti bireyler, burada hem kimliklerini daha rahat ifade edebilir hem de toplumun diğer üyeleriyle etkileşime geçebilirler.

Travesti Bireylerin Karşılaştığı Zorluklar

Türkiye’de olduğu gibi, Ankara’da da travesti bireyler toplumsal önyargılarla karşılaşabilmektedir. Bu, özellikle iş hayatında, eğitimde ve sosyal ilişkilerde kendini gösterir. Çankaya gibi daha kapsayıcı bölgelerde bile, bazı travesti bireyler hala ayrımcılığa uğrayabilir.

Ayrıca, güvenlik sorunları da travesti bireylerin yaşadığı zorluklardan biridir. Güvenli bir yaşam alanı bulmak, kimliklerini açıkça ifade etmek isteyen travesti bireyler için önemli bir sorundur. Ancak, Çankaya’daki sosyal yapılar, bu tür zorlukların üstesinden gelmek için daha fazla fırsat sunar.

Travesti Bireyler İçin Öneriler

  1. Topluluk Desteği: Travesti bireylerin, kendi deneyimlerini paylaşabileceği ve birbirlerinden destek alabileceği güvenli alanlar oluşturulmalıdır. Çankaya gibi ilçelerde, topluluklar bu konuda önemli bir rol oynamaktadır.
  2. Farkındalık Çalışmaları: Toplumda travesti kimliği konusunda daha fazla bilinç oluşturulması, önyargıları azaltacaktır. Eğitim ve kültürel etkinlikler bu anlamda çok değerlidir.
  3. Güvenli Alanlar: Travesti bireylerin sosyal ve kişisel haklarını güvenle kullanabilmesi için, özellikle Çankaya gibi gelişmiş bölgelerde güvenli sosyal mekanlar sağlanmalıdır.
  4. Yasal ve Psikolojik Destek: Travesti bireyler, hukuki ve psikolojik destek alabilecekleri platformlar sayesinde kendilerini daha güvende hissedebilirler.

Travesti & Travestiler

Ankara ve özellikle Çankaya Travesti bireyler için sosyal açıdan daha açık ve kapsayıcı bir alan sunmaktadır. Ancak, toplumsal farkındalık ve eşit haklar konusunda hala yapılması gereken çok şey vardır. Travesti bireylerin toplumda daha rahat bir şekilde kimliklerini ifade edebilmesi için, hep birlikte daha hoşgörülü ve anlayışlı bir yaklaşım sergilemek önemlidir. Çankaya, bu bireyler için önemli bir yaşam alanı sunmakta olup, daha fazla destek ve fırsat yaratılması gerektiği açıktır.

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Ankara Travesti: Bir Topluluğu Daha İyi Anlamak

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Ankara, Türkiye’nin başkenti ve en büyük şehirlerinden biri olarak, çok yönlü kültürü ve çeşitli topluluklarıyla dikkat çeker. Bu çeşitliliğin bir parçası da travesti bireylerdir. Ancak, toplumda travesti kimliğiyle ilgili yanlış algılar ve bilgi eksikliği, bu bireylerin yaşamlarını zorlaştırabilir. İşte bu makalede, travesti bireylerin kim olduğu, Ankara’da nasıl bir topluluk oluşturdukları ve karşılaştıkları zorluklar hakkında bilgi veriyoruz.

Travesti Kimdir?

Travesti, genellikle doğuştan atanmış cinsiyetlerinden farklı bir cinsiyet ifadesine sahip bireyleri tanımlayan bir terimdir. Travestilik, bir bireyin cinsiyet kimliğiyle uyumlu bir dış görünüm sergileme isteğiyle ilgilidir ve kişisel bir ifadedir. Travesti olmak, bir cinsiyet geçiş sürecini içerebilir ya da tamamen bireysel bir yaşam tercihini yansıtabilir.

Ankara’daki Travesti Topluluğu

Ankara, çeşitli sosyal ve kültürel etkinliklerin yanı sıra, Ankara Travesti LGBTQ+ topluluğu için de bir yaşam ve dayanışma alanıdır. Şehirde, travesti bireylerin destek aldığı gruplar, etkinlikler ve sosyal mekanlar bulunmaktadır. Bu topluluklar, bireylerin bir araya gelip deneyimlerini paylaştığı, dayanışma gösterdiği alanlar yaratır.

Ankara’daki travesti bireylerin en sık buluştuğu noktalar arasında kafeler, barlar ve sosyal platformlar yer alır. Bu alanlar, bireylerin hem güvenli bir şekilde sosyalleşmesine hem de kimliklerini özgürce ifade etmelerine olanak tanır.

Karşılaşılan Zorluklar

Ne yazık ki, travesti bireyler Türkiye’nin birçok yerinde olduğu gibi Ankara’da da ayrımcılık, dışlanma ve önyargılarla karşılaşabilmektedir. Çalışma hayatında eşit fırsatlar sunulmaması, toplumsal şiddet ve kimliklerini açıklama konusundaki çekinceler, en sık rastlanan sorunlardır.

Bununla birlikte, Ankara’da faaliyet gösteren LGBTQ+ destek grupları, bireylerin bu zorlukları aşmalarına yardımcı olmak için önemli çalışmalar yürütmektedir. Bu gruplar, hukuki danışmanlık, psikolojik destek ve toplumsal farkındalık yaratma gibi alanlarda aktif rol oynar.

Ankara Travestileri İçin Dayanışma ve Destek Önerileri

  1. Topluluk Oluşturma: Travesti bireylerin, kendi ihtiyaçlarını anlayan bir topluluk içinde bulunması önemlidir. Sosyal medya grupları ve dernekler bu konuda yardımcı olabilir.
  2. Farkındalık Çalışmaları: Daha fazla insanın travestilik hakkında doğru bilgi edinmesi, önyargıların azalmasına katkı sağlar.
  3. Destek Altyapısı: LGBTQ+ bireyleri destekleyen yerel gruplar ve kuruluşlar aracılığıyla psikolojik ve hukuki destek sağlanabilir.
  4. Güvenli Mekanlar: Travesti bireylerin rahatça zaman geçirebileceği güvenli sosyal alanlar oluşturulmalıdır.

Kısacası Ankara Travestileri ;

Ankara, travesti bireyler için sosyal dayanışma ve farkındalık alanlarında gelişim gösteren bir şehirdir. Ancak, toplumun daha bilinçli bir yaklaşım sergilemesi ve bu bireylerin yaşamlarını kolaylaştıracak düzenlemelerin yapılması gereklidir. Travesti bireylerin özgürce kimliklerini ifade edebildiği, ayrımcılığa maruz kalmadan yaşayabildiği bir toplum yaratmak, hepimizin sorumluluğudur.

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What Happens in Vegas Pt. 10

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Three months passed by without much drama. Fred started therapy, making marked progress through processing his fraught childhood. Aaron supported him heartily as he worked through those issues. Fred took Aaron as his date to a couple of dinner parties hosted by his employer. Aaron reciprocated with his firm’s annual summer celebration picnic. Most of their colleagues weren’t phased by the couple. There were a few assholes here and there, but overall, the response was positive or neutral. It helped that the higher ups in both Aaron and Fred’s respective companies didn’t give a shit who they were fucking as long as they got their work done and both men excelled in their positions.

Fred had tried to reach out to his mother one last time. She only asked if he was still “living a sinful lifestyle” and when he replied that if she meant to ask if he was still in a loving relationship with Aaron, then yes, he was. After his confirmation she had ignored him. That had been a hard day, but he had wanted to try one more time, for his own closure. Closure on his terms not hers.

His efforts to reach out to Jennifer had garnered a little more of a response. On Taylor, Jennifer’s second son’s birthday, he had reached out to wish him a happy birthday and tell her he was thinking about them. It took her all day to respond but she did finally. She simply said thank you and sent Fred a picture of the four boys together at Taylor’s birthday party.

Another hard day, knowing he hadn’t been invited to the party. Not that he would have been able to go. In the background of the picture of the boys was Russell, beer in hand looking drunk and sloppy. Fred wouldn’t have wanted to go without Aaron, and he couldn’t guarantee that it would have been safe for them to go.

The two men spent increasing amounts of time with Aaron’s parents who warmed quickly to Fred as the months passed without so much as a hint of him jerking Aaron around. Of course there was plenty of time spent with Mark, Kate, and Madison. Aaron did start going to see Madison for his haircuts and loved hearing all the tea she spilled as she cut his hair.

Life was beginning to fall into a comfortable, predictable pattern for the couple. Aaron had gradually let go of his slovenly ways and would help clean more often than not. Cooking was not his gift, however, so Fred mostly took care of that. Both Aaron and Fred felt things couldn’t get any better than this.

On a quiet Friday night, they lounged together on the couch, watching a horror movie, with a bowl of popcorn on the coffee table between two beers. Aaron had propped a pillow on Fred’s lap and stretched out next to him. Fred had an arm draped over him, slowly stroking up and down his bicep as they watched the film.

“Are you fuckin’ serious?” Fred exclaimed as the main male lead ran back into the forest from his hiding spot to go after the female lead. “Why do they do that? He should just get the fuck out of there. Get the cops or something!” Aaron chuckled as Fred reached for one of the bottles.

“I’d leave you in the forest and go for help, Freddie,” Aaron said. Fred looked down at him as he sipped his beer.

“Awww, that’s so sweet baby. Going for help is always the right way to go.” He squeezed his boyfriend’s shoulder and ran his fingers back down to his elbow. Aaron sighed contentedly.

Fred’s phone started buzzing wildly on the table in front of them. He glanced down at the phone. Suddenly the doorbell rang as well, twice in a row and a fist banged on the door. Aaron jumped at the noise. He loved horror movies, but they always set him on edge. He sat up and grabbed the remote to pause the film.

“What the fuck is going on?” he asked.

“My dad is calling,” Fred said. “I guess I should answer it.” A fist pounded at their door again.

“Stay here,” Fred said to Aaron. “I’ll get the door.”

“But…” Aaron started.

“Just stay here,” Fred said. Something was weird, his dad calling and the pounding on the door starting at the same time was weirding him out. His phone kept ringing as he looked through the peep hole.

“Holy shit!” he exclaimed, unlocking the door and flinging it open. “Ben?! What the fuck happened to you?”

Fred’s oldest nephew stood at his door. His longish dark blond hair was ruffled, light brown eyes bloodshot, his left eye bloomed with a black and blue bruise, a twin bruise was on his opposite cheek, and he had a bloody lip.

“Uncle Fred,” he croaked and started crying.

“Fuck, come in here,” Fred said, ushering the tall boy into the house. Aaron stood up from the couch and caught a glimpse of Ben.

“Jesus! Ben!” Aaron said. He moved swiftly and took him by lightly by the elbow, directing him to sit at the dining room table. “Sit down, what happened?” Ben just kept crying, his sobs coming in huge hiccups. Aaron thought they sounded like sobs of relief.

Fred’s phone had stopped ringing at some point but started anew now. His dad, Paul, was calling again. He answered quickly.

“Dad?” escort topkapı Fred said as Aaron went to the kitchen to grab a bag of frozen peas. Aaron listened closely as he carefully put the bag of peas on Ben’s swelling eye.

“Here kiddo, hold that there,” Aaron said. Ben brought his hand up to hold the bag to his eye. Aaron noted the scrapes and redness on his knuckles and glanced at his other hand, which bore the same marks.

“No, no it’s fine. It’s OK. He’s here now,” Fred was saying. “No, he looks like shit.”

Aaron carefully pushed the long hair off of Ben’s face to inspect the bruise on his cheek and the split lip. He sucked a breath in through his teeth. Going back to the freezer he dug around looking for an ice pack. He couldn’t find one but did find a bag of corn that had migrated to the back of the freezer. Tossing it on the counter Aaron grabbed a paper towel, ran the corner under some cold water and squeezed out the excess. Sitting down in a chair across from Ben, he held the bag of corn on the bruised cheek.

“Does that hurt? Too much?” Aaron asked. He dabbed carefully at the split lip, wiping away the blood that dripped from the cut.

“No. It’s OK,” Ben croaked out. His sobs had stopped but he was still sucking his breath in and out too fast. Aaron put the paper towel aside and gently rubbed Ben’s shoulder.

“You’re safe Ben,” Aaron said as Fred finished up the call with his dad. “You need to relax; you’re going to hyperventilate. Slow deep breaths, kiddo.” Aaron started to take deep breaths in through his nose and out through his mouth and Ben did his best to copy it. Fred slammed his phone to the kitchen counter and stalked over to Ben.

“Let me see,” he ground out.

“Fred,” Aaron said warningly. “Relax.” Fred’s fiery eyes caught Aaron’s and he took a deep shuddering breath. He seemed a little calmer, but Aaron still noted the fury that remained.

“Can I see your face, Ben?” Fred asked him. The boy lowered the bag of peas from his eye and Aaron pulled away the corn. Fred gently cradled Ben’s face in his hands, turning it, pushing his hair carefully out of the way.

“Are you hurt anywhere else?” Fred asked quietly. Ben held up his hands and Fred looked them over.

“What happened Ben?” Fred asked. Ben’s face crumpled again, fresh tears coursing down his face. He didn’t cover them though, just let them flow freely.

“My dad,” he muttered, his breathing going ragged and rapid again.

“Ben,” Aaron said. Ben looked at Aaron, and he started taking his deep breaths again. Ben nodded and mimicked him until his breathing evened out once more.

“You’re safe here Ben,” Aaron reassured him. Ben took another deep breath, tears still rolling down his face, as if they would never stop.

“My…my dad did it,” he said. Fred’s hands clenched into tight fists, the knuckles going white.

“Why?” Aaron asked gently when he noticed Fred was seething, far too angry to ask any coherent questions beyond how he should kill Russell.

“He…he…he found out…something about me. I didn’t know where else to go. I had to call Grandpa Paul to get your address. Mom wouldn’t tell me,” Ben said.

“Oh Ben. Your mom doesn’t have this address,” Aaron admitted.

“What did your dad find out?” Fred asked, nearly spat out. He just barely held his anger back. Ben stared up at his uncle’s furious eyes.

“You don’t have to say,” Aaron said. Ben dragged his eyes to Aaron, then back to Fred. Ben shrugged then winced at the pain that shot through his shoulders and back.

“He found out about Finn,” Ben whispered. Fred’s face dissolved into confusion.

“Finn? You and Finn have been friends for years,” Fred said.

“Yeah,” Ben hesitated, dropping his eyes to the floor. “We’ve been boyfriends for about a year now.” Fred’s clenched fists relaxed.

“You…have a boyfriend?” Fred asked. Ben nodded, bringing his eyes back up to Fred. “You’re gay?” Fred asked. Ben snorted and winced again at the pain.

“Yes, Uncle Fred. That’s why I’ve had a boyfriend for a year. I’m gay,” Ben said looking up at him. Fred ignored the sass and stared down at Ben. He pulled a chair over to him and sat next to Aaron leaning forward on his knees.

“And your dad found out tonight?” Aaron asked. Ben nodded again.

“Mom and dad were out, on a date night. My brothers were at…” he glanced at Fred. “They were at grandma’s house. So, I thought I’d have the house to myself for a while. Finn came over and we lost track of time.”

“Jesus Christ,” Fred muttered. Ben looked up quickly.

“We weren’t even doing anything! We were watching a movie on the couch. We might have been able to fly under the radar, like we’ve been doing for so long, but we fell asleep. We were all cuddled up…” Ben’s eyes welled at the memory. “Dad came home and saw us. I shoved Finn out the door when he started yelling. Mom had gone to get my brothers but dropped dad off cause…because he got so drunk on their date night. She escort kocaeli doesn’t like grandma to see how wasted gets sometimes…all the time.” Fred scraped a hand down his face and clenched a fist again. Aaron reached out and took his clenched fist, loosening the fingers and lacing his with Fred’s. He squeezed it firmly and Fred glanced over at him.

“Is Finn, OK?” Aaron asked.

“I think so. He texted me when he got home,” Ben said. “I should probably call him.”

“You can, in a minute,” Fred said. “Put those frozen’s back on your face.” Ben brought up the peas and Aaron, taking his hand from Fred’s, held the corn to his cheek.

“Are you sure you’re not hurt anywhere else?” Fred asked. Ben assessed rolling his shoulders wincing with the twinges of pain. Fred raised his eyebrows.

“He might have…” Ben sighed. “He threw me against the wall, but I think I’m just sore, bruised.” Fred’s eyes flared with anger again, but he tried to tamp it down.

“OK, you can stay here tonight. We’ll talk more tomorrow,” he said glancing at Aaron, who nodded.

“I’ll get the air mattress set up,” Aaron said standing. Ben held the bag of corn to his face.

Aaron set up the mattress barely holding back his tears. He put some spare sheets on the mattress and dug an extra pillow out of the hall linen closet, setting it on the bed along with some towels. He went into the bathroom and pulled out a new toothbrush, a little travel toothpaste and a bar of soap. His eyes leaked as he dug through their stuff and he took a moment to steady his breathing, wiping away the tears.

Ben was seated on the couch now, with a glass of water and a slice of cold pizza from the night before. Fred sat next to him talking quietly. He hugged him and Ben returned it burying his face in Fred’s shoulder. His back started quaking and Fred soothed him.

Aaron gave them a moment while he put the toiletries in the bathroom. Fred still had an arm slung over Ben when he came down the hallway and the look of exhaustion and defeat on Ben’s face broke his heart.

“OK, you’re all set,” Aaron said. “I put a toothbrush, toothpaste and soap in the hall bathroom for you.”

“Thanks,” Ben said. He pulled his phone from his pocket and stared down at it.

“Don’t worry about those,” Fred said. “I’ll call her.” Ben nodded and started down the hall.

“Do you have a charger I could use?” he asked quietly.

“Oh,” Aaron said. Ben turned the phone so Aaron could see what kind it was. “Oh yeah, I have an extra.” He retrieved it for Ben and the boy disappeared into the bedroom.

Aaron sighed heavily and went to the living room where Fred sat on the couch. He toyed with his phone, turning it over and over in his hands. Aaron sat down next to him and pulled him into a hug.

“Fuck,” Fred said. He wrapped his arms around Aaron tightly and sighed heavily. “I want to fuckin’ kill that guy.” Aaron nodded.

“I do too,” he muttered, kissing Fred’s head. Fred pulled back and leaned back on the couch.

“I have to call Jennifer,” he said. Aaron winced.

“Ben had a bunch of missed calls and texts from her,” Fred said. “So, I have to call her and tell her he’s safe.” Aaron stared at Fred. “I don’t want to. She doesn’t deserve it.”

Aaron ran a hand down Fred’s arm and back up again. He planted a kiss on his shoulder.

“I have to though,” Fred said. He turned and kissed Aaron’s lips. Then he lifted his phone and scrolled through his contacts till he found Jennifer. He quickly placed the call before he talked himself out of it.

“Fred!” She was sobbing and he almost didn’t understand her.

“Jennifer,” he said quietly with venom in his voice. She cried more but gradually got her voice under control.

“Do you know what happened?” she sputtered.

“I do,” Fred said shortly. “Ben is safe.” Jennifer barked out a sob of relief.

“Where is he?” she asked when she got herself under control.

“He’s here with Aaron and me,” he said. There was a pause.

“Can I…Can I come see him?” Jennifer asked.

“No.” There was no hesitation, no second guessing. Jennifer paused.

“You won’t let me see my son?” Jennifer asked, but there was no power or anger in her words. Only desperation and devastation.

“No. He’s in rough shape Jennifer and I don’t know if I can trust you to keep Russell away,” Fred said simply. She let out another sob.

“He’s never hit the boys before,” Jennifer sputtered. Fred balked for a moment.

“What do you mean?” Fred asked. Jennifer sobbed again.

“He never hit any of the boys ever. It was only me. I thought it was OK if he never hurt the boys,” Jennifer said. Fred scraped a hand down his face again feeling anger like bile rise in him again. He knew Russell was a piece of shit, but he hadn’t even suspected this. That his sister was in…

He huffed out a sigh and swiped at a tear that rolled out of his eye.

“Jesus Jennifer,” Fred said unable to hide the unbridled şişli escort bayan anger in his voice.

“I know! I’m… just is he OK?” Jennifer asked.

“He’ll be OK,” Fred said roughly.

“When can I see him?” Jennifer asked. Fred sighed.

“That’s not up to me. Just not tonight,” Fred said. He felt the dam breaking. At his sister’s revelation of what kind of relationship she had been in for all these years he felt his resolve to be pissed at her breaking down.

“I have to go. Ben will call you later.” His voice cracked over the last word and he ended the call before she could hear him break.

Aaron gathered Fred up in his arms not knowing what the fuck Jennifer had said, only hearing half the conversation. He held Fred as he broke, doing his best to keep his meltdown quiet so as not to alarm Ben. Aaron held him, running his hands over his back, through his hair as Fred clutched him.

~~~~

Fred finally filled Aaron in on what Jennifer had said as they lay in bed that night. He started crying again as he told him, but he didn’t sob as he had when he had first found out. The tears silently slid down his face as he relayed to Aaron what he had been told. Aaron had listened and cried with him, wiping Fred’s tears with his thumbs. Fred joked about making extra therapy appointments this week and Aaron had huffed out a quiet laugh, although he knew the joke masked the truth of the statement. Fred would make extra appointments that week.

They talked about letting Ben stay with them. Aaron felt no hesitation as he offered to clear the spare room for Ben. They barely used it, and Ben was almost done with high school. He’d be a senior in September and Fred said he’d been planning on going away to college on scholarships for a while. They quietly agreed to let Ben know the next morning that their home was his if he wanted it to be.

The men slept fitfully waking up to Ben’s sobbing at one point. Fred went and checked in on him, returning a few minutes later after the sobbing quieted, confirming he was alright. Aaron got up at one point, silence surrounding him, but feeling like something was off.

He wandered silently into the kitchen and found Ben there staring at the knife block. He wasn’t sure if he was sleepwalking or not, but he gingerly put a hand on his shoulder and Ben jumped. Aaron got him back in bed, telling him again he was safe.

He got back into bed with a sigh and Fred asked what was going on. Aaron told him, and Fred went to sleep in the spare room with Ben for the rest of the night, afraid of what he might do.

Aaron woke up the next morning, later than usual, feeling just as tired as he was when he had closed his eyes the night before. Fred lay next to him in bed, and he was surprised to see him. He rolled over and put an arm around him. Fred relaxed under his arm and stirred a little.

“Hey baby,” he muttered. Aaron kissed the back of his neck.

“Hey Freddie. When did you come back to bed?” Aaron asked. Fred sighed.

“About 5am. Ben finally seemed like he was actually sleeping. So, I came back,” Fred said.

“Are you OK?” Aaron asked, quietly.

“I am not,” Fred said. He sighed and Aaron tightened his arms around him. Fred grabbed Aaron’s fingers and kissed them lightly, one by one. He took one into his mouth and sucked on it, pressing his ass back against Aaron’s crotch.

“Freddie,” Aaron muttered.

“I’m not OK, but I’m not fucking dead,” he growled.

Aaron smirked and pressed his slowly rising cock against Fred’s ass. Fred brought another of Aaron’s fingers into his mouth. Aaron began pumping his fingers in and out of Fred’s mouth. Fred licked down the soaking fingers, to his wrist and up his arm. Aaron groaned quietly. He brought his hand to the waistband of Fred’s boxers and pushed past it trailing them through his crack to his puckered hole. Fred let out a moan as Aaron pressed his wet fingers there, circling around it.

“Shhhh,” Aaron breathed into his ear. “We have to be quiet.”

“Yeah,” Fred groaned out. “I know.” He gasped as one of Aaron’s fingers slipped into him.

“Ugh, baby, yes,” Fred moaned.

“Shhh, Freddie,” Aaron whispered.

“I am,” Fred groaned out. His voice was slightly annoyed, petulant. Aaron chuckled a little, dragging his tongue down Fred’s neck, biting him gently.

He knew now, after months of making love with and fucking Fred that when he was feeling vulnerable, he wanted Aaron to start gentle, but he still liked the soft biting. Fred liked a little rough sex every now and then. He never came so hard as when Aaron was full on pounding into him, but during moments of vulnerability, like now, it was too much. So, Aaron had to walk a fine line of tender and rough. Fred thought he usually did an exceptional job of it.

This morning was no exception as Aaron slowly and tenderly moved his fingers inside him, dragging his teeth along his tongue moistened skin. Fred’s cock immediately rose to the occasion. The men pulled off their boxers as their arousal grew.

Aaron slowly rose to a slouching seated position, his upper back resting against the headboard of their bed. Fred rolled onto his lap, Aaron’s fingers sliding out of him for just a moment, and he settled himself between Aaron’s legs, leaning back against him.

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After the Bombs Ch. 03

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Asian

The sun was beaming through the broken, haphazard blinds, high in the sky by the time I woke up. The bed beside me was empty but still warm. I listened to the running shower as I stared at the ceiling, trying to remember if I’d ever slept as well as I did last night with Ren curled protectively around me.

The shower spluttered to a stop and a moment later Ren stepped out of the bathroom a towel around his waist, “Morning sleepy head. It’s almost midday.”

I stretched, smiling while drinking in the view of his round shoulders and pecs. Water droplets clung to his chest and stomach hair. “I- I slept so well.”

He padded over to me, sitting on the edge of the bed, “Me too. Which is crazy, with everything going on.” He leant forward and kissed me gently.

My mind span from that single kiss. And I knew in that moment, that I couldn’t let him disappear into the Grey-Wastes without me, leaving me here forever wondering what had happened. “Ren?” he raised an eyebrow in answer, “I want to come with you. I am coming with you.”

Smiling, he ran his fingers through my hair, “I know.”

“How would you know? I’ve only just decided.”

“Noah, I was never leaving you alone here. I have this, I don’t know, need. Need to keep you safe.”

A grin split my face, “Well that’s nice. I know it probably doesn’t look like it, but I can look after myself.”

“I don’t doubt it,” he answered, “But now, you’ll have twice the protection.”

“I better start packing,” I said swinging my legs over the bed, can I actually only bring a single bag?” I asked.

“I just said that so you’d pack the most important things to you, I can carry another two bags for you. Also,” he hesitated, “I noticed you had a black boiler suit in your wardrobe, any chance I can, have it?”

I laughed, “I guess so, you fucking snoop.”

He shrugged, adding with a cheeky smile, “You were out all day. I got bored.”

I rolled my eyes, “Give me my towel you thief, I need a shower too.”

I stripped off and closed the bathroom door, stepping into the shower. I gathered soap and washed my body, lathering it beneath my armpits and between my legs, the bubbles quickly washing down the drain. I brought a finger to my mouth gathering saliva, then reaching between my cheeks, pushed a finger in my hole. I closed my eyes and groaned quietly, gathered more saliva before adding a second finger, stretching myself, preparing myself for what I really wanted: Ren inside me. I rinsed off well, ensuring any soap was gone and quickly drying myself. I wiped my hand over the bathroom mirror, clearing the mist. My messy brown hair parted down the middle; I swept it from my face. I’d need to cut it again soon. I stared at my reflection, telling myself to be brazen. I took a deep breath and stepped back into my bedroom.

Ren relaxed on the bed, one arm stretched out behind his head and his legs spread slightly. We both grinned, admiring each other’s naked bodies. He started to sit up, but I closed the distance between us and pressed my hand against his chest, pushing him back against the pillows. Then, I dropped down to my knees in front of him, running my tongue over his hairy balls, taking one into my mouth at a time and savouring the taste. As I worked, I watched his erection grow harder until it was pointing towards the ceiling. With a firm grasp, I angled his thick dick towards my mouth and eagerly took it in as deep as I could.

Ren’s hands guided my head, urging me to take him into my throat as he moved in gentle thrusts. After a few minutes, he pulled me close as we shared a deep, passionate kiss. Our tongues danced together, causing me moan into his mouth. His stubble grazed my face and neck as he kissed his way down. I leaned back, giving him full access to explore. “What do you want from me, Noah?” he asked between kisses.

I squeezed his member and replied breathlessly, “This. Inside of me.”

His hands wrapped themselves between my legs and he lifted me easily, flipping us over, so that I was beneath him. He pressed a hand to my chest, encouraging me to lay back, and then lifted my legs into the air, exposing my pink hole. “Fuck. You’re so smooth.”

My face flushed escort taksim as he leaned in closer and placed a kiss right at the entrance of my body. His kisses quickly turned into teasing licks, his tongue swirling around the edges. My moans urged him on as he continued to explore. He made his tongue firm and pushed it inside me, sloppy kisses dotting my hole. His fingertips dug into my cheeks, holding me open. I squirmed underneath him, lifting my legs up high. He sucked on his finger before pushing it back inside me, adding more saliva to lubricate the way for a second finger.

He withdrew his fingers and quickly positioned himself behind me. His lips met mine once more as he guided the head of his thick dick to my hole. With an intake of breath, I felt him slowly push his length inside of me. Just as I thought I couldn’t take any more, his large balls settled against me. I protested, as he pulled out completely, only to spit into my loosened opening and thrust back in again.

He fucked me with long, slow thrusts. He stared into my eyes as I writhed in pleasure beneath him. I kept my legs splayed open and reached out my hands to explore his muscular chest, running my fingertips through the hair to pinch a nipple.

I wasn’t used to looking at the person fucking me, but I could look at Ren for hours. His muscles rippled and strained as he pounded into me, his body slick with sweat and exertion. I could feel the tension building in my core as he wrapped his hand around my hardness, matching his rhythm to mine. Our bodies pushing and pulling until we were both on the edge. With a loud groan and one last thrust, he held himself still as he released inside of me.

I couldn’t hold back any longer and released myself onto my chest and stomach, feeling completely spent and satisfied by our intense connection

“Guess I need another shower.” I laughed.

He withdrew his cock and slapped my arse, “I’ll come with you.”

I spent the next hour packing and unpacking my bags, I chose three of my fifteen medical books, one of them was handwritten by my Mum. Hers was by far the most helpful, with drawings and notes explain how to deal with everything from a broken bone to a gunshot wound.

“Can we go over the plan one more time?” I asked, looking at Ren.

He nodded. “I’ll sneak out as soon as the sun sets. Find two different derelict, uninhabited buildings and set fire to them. I’m confident I can choose buildings that won’t spread the fire to neighbouring ones. We’ll have our distraction without harming anyone. I’m still concerned Grant might turn up and I won’t be here though.” he added concerned.

I shook my head. “I’m sure. He’ll be too busy to visit. I’m not worried about that he usually turns up gone midnight.”

“Okay. If you’re sure.”

“Alright,” I said, taking a deep breath. “I’ll continue my day as normal to avoid suspicion.”

Ren gave me a reassuring smile. “Sounds good. Just make sure you’re ready.”

The infirmary, as always, was full of people with various ailments, almost all caused by drink, drugs or fights, so I was kept busy for several hours. Before leaving, I headed to the supply cupboard and restocked my bag with bandages, antiseptic, and painkillers. I also threw in a few other bits I thought might come in useful. As I was leaving the cupboard, I bumped into another medic named Jerry.

“You’re already restocking?” he asked, confused.

“Yeah, you know Grant. I have another injured man on my doorstep daily,” I laughed, waving him off to avoid follow-up questions.

Jerry raised an eyebrow. “Another one? What’s going on?”

I shrugged, trying to appear casual, “Just the usual chaos. You know how it is.”

“I get that. Well, see ya.”

I was tempted to head back towards the cell to check on Akeem, Aria, and Elijah, but I didn’t want my regular visits to create chatter, so I decided it was best to head back and check in with Ren.

I opened the door to the apartment and saw Ren adjusting my–now his–boiler suit. It had full-length trousers and short sleeves he’d rolled up over his biceps. Half of the front buttons were open, and beneath it, I could see he was still wearing escort izmit the vest I’d given him. His chest hair was curling up over the vest, and he smiled at me as he buckled a belt around his waist to cinch the fabric in.

“How badass is this?” he asked.

It took me a moment to answer. The all-black look, down to his hair and eyes, paired with his pale skin, was striking.

“You look so fucking hot,” I said, looking down at my tattered jeans and yellowing t-shirt. “Now I need a sexy break-out outfit.” I laughed.

“Well, as luck would have it, I’ve actually curated that very thing for you,” he said, pointing to an outfit laid out on the bed. “I’ve just showered; you might want to do the same. It’s at least three days in the greywastes before we get to New Hope.”

After showering, I dried myself and put on the ‘escape-outfits’ as Ren called them.

Mine consisted of a black vest and a pair of black cargo trousers and then a dark green denim shirt to go over the top. Ren smiled at me, “Now you look bad ass too.”

The sun had just set as Ren pulled on his boots; the only things on his body that hadn’t once belonged to me.

He leaned in to kiss me, “Remember, get to them by ten and then to me by half ten latest, or I’ll come looking for you. Be careful out there. It’ll be crazy.” He kissed me again, hauled a backpack over each shoulder and then left, leaving me alone in my room with over an hour before I had to leave. Ren had already back two large bottles of water in his bag, but I filled another.

I’d spent over thirty minutes in tense unease, twenty minutes after Ren had left, I heard people shouting about a fire. I peered through my blinds and saw a small, distant structure being engulfed by flames. I stayed crouched by the window, my heart pounding in my chest as I scanned the streets beyond. Minutes felt like hours as I waited, knowing I had to wait for the second fire before I could move. I knew it’d be one of the far buildings. Ren was going to choose two on the furthest side of town, away from the inhabited area, a few people were running towards the fires to help, but most were running away from it. They’d nearly managed to put the first fire out. I assumed by using hoses connected to the wastewater pipes.

My mind was spiralling, the second building should be ablaze by now. I pressed my face to the window, my breath fogging up the glass. Just as finally, the second building burst into flames. Relief washed over me as I snatched up my stuff and headed toward the door. When it suddenly burst open, sending me skidding onto the ground, the contents of bag emptying onto the ground.

Grant stormed in, his eyes blazing with suspicion. He had figured it out.

“You little cunt!” He screamed spitting with rage, “Where is he!?”

My feet slipped as I tried in vain to scramble away from him, “He’s gone. You’re too late.” He reared back kicking my hard in the stomach. My arms gave out as I collapsed winded. Grant’s eyes darted across the floor taking in my dropped belongings and a sneer curled his top lip as I gasped for breath.

“Looks like he’ll be expecting you. Hopefully when you don’t show, he’ll come looking for you, and then, you’ll watch when as I put a bullet between his eyes.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a gun.

Panic surged through me, as I lay wheezing on my stomach. His grip on the gun tightened, turning his knuckles white. “Get on the chair. Keep your hands where I can see them.” I hauled myself into the chair, if I took shallow breaths the pain in my stomach lessened.

I needed to figure out a way to warn Ren before he entered the room, I felt sure he would when I didn’t show. It was already quarter to 9, I should be leaving for the cell by now. Fifteen minutes passed as Grant continued to spit insults at me, he sat on the bed so that he could angle the gun at me and towards the door, “Pour me a drink. Now!” He demanded. I stood and my hands shook as I poured some of the yellowing vodka into a glass, I noticed a small vegetable knife sat on the counter, hidden from Grant’s view by my own body. “You know,” said Grant. “You might have escort kağıthane gotten away if you’d not been stupid enough to steal from the infirmary. You always have been thick. Just like your mother.”

Rage flooded through me as I replied through gritted teeth, “My mother was a hero.” I heard him stand and take slow steps towards me growling, “Your mother was a whore. Just like you.” I wrapped my hand around the handle of the knife, my knuckles turning white. “Look at me while I’m talking to you!” he screamed, grabbing my shoulder and spinning me around. Grant roared in anger, swinging his fist at me. I ducked, feeling the rush of and without thinking, I brought the knife up and sank it into his thick neck.

His face shifted from one of anger, then shock and finally to confusion, as he dropped the gun. He staggered back, grabbing and pulling the knife out, before he dropped to his knees clutching in vain at his throat to stem the flow of blood. His eyes were wide as the realisation that he was dying hit him.

I watched in shock for a few moments, then snapped into action, I needed to get out of here and fast! Quickly I started scratching around on the floor throwing the dropped things back into my bag, avoiding looking at Grant and the growing pool of blood. I shoved the gun into my pocket, grabbed my bag, slinging it over my shoulder, and bolted for the door. Taking the stairs two at a time, I burst into the darkness of the night, my heart pounding in my ears.

I ran as fast as my legs could carry me, my lungs burning as I pushed through the crowds of people, it had gone 9:15 and If Ren came looking for me, we might miss each other. I held the gun tightly in my hand, ready to take down anyone in my path, this was my one shot to get away from Salvation and no one was going to stop me.

I burst into the cell, making everyone jump. Before the unknown guard could reach for his gun, I aimed mine and fired. The bullet tore a chunk of wood from the table, and the man dove backward, covering his head.

“Unless you want the next one in your head, open the door!” I shouted.

He rushed forward, trying to unlock the door, but his hands were shaking uncontrollably. Elijah took the keys from him and quickly unlocked the door. As we exited the cell, Elijah grabbed the man’s gun and pushed him inside and locked the door.

“Noah, are you hurt? Is that your blood?” Aria asked, rushing towards me as the others grabbed their weapons. Akeem pulled my bah from my back, throwing it over his shoulder.

“I’m fine. We need to go now!” I replied, spinning on my heel and running back into the street, assuming they were following.

Ren had been right about the distractions. No one seemed to notice the four of us running through the crowds, armed with various weapons. I ran into the garage, lifting my gun, ready to shoot any guard inside. But there were none. I heard the others behind me, panting from the effort. I ignored the searing pain in my lungs, pushing through as I sprinted.

“Ren? Are you here?” I whispered into the large room.

“Thank fuck,” I heard him shout before the engine hummed to life, flooding the room with light. The jeep pulled up alongside us. Aria climbed into the front seat, and Elijah jumped into the bed behind the cab. He bent down, throwing an arm out to me. I took it as Akeem lifted me up to meet Elijah, who steadied me by grabbing my shoulders, before I fell onto the bed of the truck wheezing for breath.

“Is he bleeding?” Came Ren’s alarmed voice.

“It’s not his. Now go!” shouted Elijah just as Akeem landed beside me. The jeep lurched forward, sending them onto my knees. It was only about 50 meters to the front gate from the warehouse. We could do this. I heard screams and shouts as people dived out of the way of the speeding jeep.

“Elijah, Akeem, shoot the control panels, not the gate!” I yelled over the noise.

They leant over of the jeep; their guns aimed at the gate’s control panel. The air was filled with the deafening sound of gunfire as they unleashed a barrage of bullets. Sparks flew as the bullets struck the metal and wiring, causing small explosions. The control panel emitted a series of loud pops and hisses before bursting into flames. The gate’s mechanisms groaned and creaked under the strain, and then, with a final, resounding crash, the doors swung down onto the floor like a drawbridge, revealing the darkness of the greywastes ahead of us. We sped out into it.

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I Became a Cock Sucking Fag Pt. 08

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Anal

(not a lot of detailed sex, just setting the story for chapter 9, the true start of becoming a cock sucker)

After Jillian and I split, I went back to my usual self. I chalked things up to an experience, a want, and something I felt I needed to do. And I had achieved it. But it was time to move forward. I joined every dating site I could find online, seeking women. I found myself chatting with women, occasionally having a date, but never developing anything further or worth noting. I wasn’t too concerned with it, I still felt I needed more experience with dick but had confined myself to believing if it was meant to be, then it would happen. But if I was going back to dating women, I needed to get back out there and find one that fit my needs.

I remember Jillian telling me she had been on “those types of dating sites,” and I recalled her saying that if it was a shemale, the face picture would be really close up, but any full body pictures would be very distant, as not to reveal the manly physique or to show a possible bulge.

I was thumbing through profiles one evening and ran across a Filipina woman named Geenah’s profile. Right off the bat, I could see her main profile picture was way up close and everything else was from a distance, in a dirty, dusty mirror, so you couldn’t see her body very well. I wrote to her because I thought she may have been a shemale. Plus, I always had an interest in Asian women anyway, and within a day or so, she replied.

We chatted back and forth on the site for a while, until we felt comfortable enough to exchange numbers. We texted back and forth getting to know one another and on occasion, I’d look at her profile again, to see if she had uploaded any newer pictures. One day there was a new picture of her and I guess some co-workers, and even though she was turned a bit sideways, I saw a small bulge and believed there was a dick in those pants and not a pussy. Or at least I suspected that.

When the time came for us to speak on the phone, I didn’t mention it, I just kept the conversations going developing an interest in one another and getting to know more about each other. But after a few other conversations, I had to see if she was, but without being forward and asking. I asked her several times to tell me something different about her than any other woman. Or in essence, what was special about her? She beat around the bush for a while trying to list off work qualifications, that she was born in the Philippines, worked at the hospital, etc. But I kept pushing because I believed she was and, I just wanted her to admit it.

Finally, she said to me, “Well, before we meet, I guess I should tell you I am Trans. I don’t know if you know what that means. I was born a boy, but live as a woman.”

At this time the word Trans, or Transgendered had taken the place of Shemale. I knew what she meant and advised her it didn’t bother me because I had dated trans girls before (I fibbed a bit) and we moved forward in conversations.

We met for dinner a week later and had a wonderful evening. Geenah was very attractive. She was only 5’7, very thin build with broad shoulders, and had breasts that were a bit big for her physique. She had long black hair, thin fingers, spoke very deeply, but feminine, and had an ass that was rounded. Nothing much happened through dinner, or after outside of the usual first date procedure, but I felt something more was going to happen.

Geenah lived just outside of a bad part of town, in a newly redeveloped area, with rows of thin, tall, townhouses. The first few times I went there I was very uncomfortable. One because of the neighborhood and two, her place was so dark and dreary with blankets over the windows, and very unique furniture, that was set up so oddly in this small thin building.

The first time we had sex was the third time I saw her. We didn’t go out; she had just invited me to her place. After watching a bit of some Filipino movie, she put on we started kissing and touching. It wasn’t long until her face was between my legs with my hard dick in her mouth. I followed suit and sucked her dick until she came. We lay around for a while after, but then I kind of got the hint it was time for me to leave. So, I excused myself and left.

Every time I was there it seemed we only had sex in the front room, or the second bedroom. I guess I should have seen through all of this at the time, but my focus was on sucking dick and getting my dick sucked than the obvious signs I should have noticed.

Geenah was weird when it came to conversation and sharing emotions or thoughts. I just drew up her wording and communication to a breakdown of two different upbringings and her nationality. She was always nice and pleasant, but I would truly define her as a man. I know that sounds contradictory since she lived as a woman, but it seemed when she wanted her dick sucked, I got the call, but as far as developing anything more in terms of a relationship, maslak escort I didn’t get the call.

Sexually, I was having fun. I liked her dick. It was sexy. It was smooth and shaved. Had a nice round tip. It was only about 4 and a half inches long, but was thicker than anything I had seen before and I liked sucking on it. I could take every bit of it into my mouth without even coming close to gagging and she was always very forward and very aggressive when she wanted it. I was just happy I had found someone with dick again and was getting more experience. As much as I could boldly suggest I was on my way to being “gay,” I was still being very secretive, very discreet, still interested in women, albeit I was sucking cock, and I surely wasn’t letting anyone know I was involved with someone who had a dick. My passion for gay sex, and sucking dick, superseded my cognitive thoughts, and on many occasions, when she would call, I’d be driving down there to suck her off and get sucked off.

Geenah and I developed what I later termed the “occasional sexcapades.” It seemed every 10 or 12 days I’d end up going to her place, or her to mine, we’d fool around, suck each other’s dick, and then leave for the night. She never asked me to spend the night, never volunteered to spend the night by me and there would be times I didn’t hear from her for a week or two, only to get a text message apologizing to me, with some excuse about having to work double shifts or family problems. We never went out, never really dated, in the aspect of the word, and only spent time together fucking, like a friends-with-benefits situation would be. I really didn’t care. I wasn’t necessarily trying to build some in-depth relationship with her, at that point. But, in my mind, I kept thinking that if I was going to change sides and date someone with a dick permanently, I needed something more than this.

I’ll be honest and admit Geenah was the first person to truly fuck me. To be inside of me pumping away. And In turn, I began fucking her as well. It was weeks into our relationship when she put me on my knees and slid her dick inside of me, staying hard long enough to finish. The problem with it wasn’t that I was being fucked, or the thickness of her dick, it was that she would cum fast during penetration. I’d usually only get 2 or 3 minutes of being penetrated, until she got off. Whereas, I would be in her for 10 to 15 minutes, depending on foreplay, until I would cum in her. Moreover, as exciting as it was to finally be fucked, I was still scared and very leery of it.

She was more versatile with having sex than Jillian was, but I would still say she was more the receiver than the giver. In all, it was just rather disappointing in the aspect that I had decided to try and date another Transgendered woman, only to be disappointed when it was time for me to get fucked. Don’t get me wrong, the experience was fascinating and the oral sex was always phenomenal, but I just felt that if I was going to lead a different lifestyle, I needed more than the “three-minute man,” and the occasional hookup.

As time went on with her, I began to think and feel that I would rather have dick than pussy. It wasn’t her specifically that made me feel that way. I just felt internally, that I wanted dick. I just felt more fascinated by it. I was excited about it. I felt at any given moment, I’d rather be hunched over or down on my knees giving head. Sucking on a hard cock, feeling it deep in my mouth, then eating pussy for the umpteenth time. It was on my mind constantly. Maybe it was the newness of it. The excitement of the secrecy of it. Or maybe because somewhere inside of me, I knew I wanted cock my whole life and just finally could accept it. Either way, I felt comfortable within myself to know I was leaning that way. In turn, I started switching all the dating site apps over to seeking men, versus women, to see if I got better responses, now that I had felt I was ready to come out. At least as Bi-Sexual.

I had come to accept it. In essence, I had been with Jillian for about 7 months sucking her dick and now sometime into Geenah, I was continuing to suck her dick, fucking her, and being fucked. I had become accustomed to reaching into my lover’s pants and finding a hard dick, sucking that dick, being penetrated by that dick, and penetrating someone with a dick. The more I got it, the more she ‘fed” me, the more I wanted it. In a host of ways, it was a very exhilarating, liberating situation.

I held fast still trying to build on things. I hung in there with all of it, hoping one day it would develop into more, to where we would be doing more relationship stuff together and I would be getting dick more frequently than every once and a while. I tried to appeal to her to the point I was texting her as often as I could without being a stalker. I was calling her. I did my best to please her sexually. I let her fuck me when she needed to and I’d fuck her when she wanted escort gebze it. She’d return the favor of course and a host of times she would initiate sex and suck me first, as if she was dying for cock herself.

One night, I went over by her and when we went into the bedroom, she stripped down to just her panties and cuddled up next to me. Sometime later, we were engaged into a hot 69 with her on top, while both of our mouths were full of each other’s hard cocks. We both got off orally swallowing each other’s cum, just cuddling after. But as I went to leave an hour later, we were kissing so heavily by her front door, and I got so aroused that I untied her robe belt, dropped to my knees, and gave her a second blow job right in her foyer, until she came down my throat.

I was trying to make sure she knew I was into her and wanted to move forward. That I wasn’t concerned she had a dick, versus a pussy and that I would be willing to live that lifestyle. As much as it might have scared me If she wanted to take a more proactive step, I was ready if she had.

However, months went by with the same repetitive every other week sexual experiences with her, with infrequent messages, lacking communication, and limited time together, leaving me with a longing and desire that she couldn’t, or wouldn’t fulfill.

I was fighting internal battles. I wanted dick. I wanted to be sucking it more frequently. I wanted a “boyfriend,” even though my rational cognitive thoughts were still wanting to be with women, or getting some pussy. I wanted to wake up next to my lover, dressed as a woman or not. Having tits or not, and seeing that cock lying between her legs. I needed dick inside of me more than just a few minutes, once in a great while. Especially considering I had taken steps to meet men now on dating sites, versus women. I was ready for that next step.

My anxiousness, heavy thoughts, and battles began to break me, I needed someone’s opinion. I mustered up the courage and contacted one of my long-time female friends asking her out to dinner to talk. During dinner, I nervously and embarrassingly admitted my recent homosexual experiences to her. I needed an opinion on this. I know she was shocked by my admittance, especially knowing how many women I had been with. But she recommended pushing for more time with Geenah and trying to develop things into a more productive, fulfilling relationship. Or, just finding a guy I was attracted to, instead of someone who looked like a woman, and truly trying the other side. It was a confusing time. One that led to a big heartache and my absolute reversal of who I chose to be with, in the form of something completely different. I’ll explain why.

As summer turned to fall and October came around, about 11 months into my “sexcapades” relationship with Geenah, I happened to be down in her area after running an errand and I decided I would surprise her and drive to her house. I had an urge to be with her. I had an urge to suck dick and maybe get fucked. In essence, I was horny and I wanted us to be taking care of each other. It was mid-afternoon when I pulled up at her house. It was a Sunday, so I figured she’d be home. I thought what a great surprise it would be for me to just go over and show her I wanted to see her. Perhaps put my heart on the line even more and talk to her about taking this forward…Well, that went sideways really quickly.

As I walked up the stairs to her door and rang the bell. I heard footsteps coming to the door. When The door popped open, I was greeted by a very dark-skinned, rather chunky, Indian man, dressed in raggedy shorts and a white wife-beater Dago-T, who looked at me like I had three heads.

“Can I help you?” He asked.

“Hi, is Bobby here?” I inquired.

I said, Bobby. I don’t know why I did, but it was the first name that came to mind. I believe psychology-wise, I immediately knew this was her man, and I – for some odd reason – didn’t want to get her in trouble, so I just spit out what my brain said too.

“Bobby? He asked.

“Bobby Jenkins,” I furthered. Throwing names out, from far, left field.

I started looking around, looking for the address of the building, pretending I was lost. I panicked because I knew at that second, in those milliseconds it takes your brain to accept stimulus, this was her actual partner. I wasn’t her boyfriend; or someone she was developing a relationship with. I was the side dish. The other man. And now, here I was, at her place, uninvited, standing at her door, while her boyfriend or fiancé (or whatever he was to her) was in her doorway.

“No, Bobby here.” He gargled out.

Just as he spoke again, I saw Geenah come into view behind him in the foyer. The same foyer, I had walked into at least 25 times, and the same foyer I sucked her dick in. I saw the panic in her eyes, the fear that her little charade was over. That ass-puckering moment you get when you are caught escort merter red-handed. Like a deer in the headlights look.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I said angrily. “I must have the wrong building.”

I should have burned her. I should have said, “Hi Geenah, how are you?”

Let Mr. Indian man know that I knew his “woman” and I had been there before. Let him know, I had sucked her dick, and she had sucked mine. Let him know, I fucked her in the ass, on the couch in his front room. Let him know I had cum all over her face, and she had cum on mine. Let him know in detail the color and style of that second bedroom, where we had several nights of oral and anal sex in.

But I didn’t. I just played it off as if I had the wrong address, but as he turned to close the door, I took one very deep, angry look at Geenah, shook my head from side to side, as if to tell her, shame on you, and just walked away.

It all hit me as I walked down those stairs back to the street. No wonder I never got asked to spend the night. No wonder she rarely came by me. No wonder it was always the second bedroom, instead of the master. Perhaps she had a moment of a conscious where she couldn’t have fucked me on the same sheets, she fucked him. Perhaps if I had gone into the master bedroom, I would have seen men’s clothes, and men’s toiletries in the bathroom and would have quickly figured it out.

My heart sank. It really did. For 11 months now I had been trying to be with someone who had a dick who was “living as a woman.” Jumping through her hoops, barely being seen and heard only to swallow her load of cum, when she needed it. All while leaving women; or even men I could have been with, hanging for her cock. I was furious. My blood was boiling.

As I drove home, I was screaming aloud to no one in my car, directing my anger at her. Every emotion came out of me, like a bomb exploding. I wanted to turn around and go back. I wanted to call her until she answered and just screamed loud enough for him to hear it. I called my friend; I told her what happened. She listened to me vent. She calmed me down and reminded me that I had slept around quite a bit throughout my years. And I realized that!

But my defense to her was that even though I had slept with a host of women, I could justify my actions because I had not been with someone for 11 months. Not had someone throwing themselves at me to get my attention or try to develop a relationship with me, only for me to just use them. At least I wasn’t carrying on like that. I wasn’t making someone a side dish.

Moreover, and probably more importantly, none of those situations were in a gay or lesbian setting. I wasn’t fucking some guy and fucking with another. I, nor anyone I dated was amid deep feelings and thoughts about sleeping with the same sex. Changing teams, or coming out. No one got played, or forced into some threesome they weren’t interested in. I, like many others, was just sleeping with whom I could when I could. Big difference. At least in my opinion.

Either way, the thought of knowing that fat, ugly, nasty Indian man was hammering that ass, before or even after me, was more than nauseating. I was so furious at myself for spending months sucking on her dick developing a like for it more than I had ever imagined, and trying to accept who I was or what I wanted, only to find out I was just a play toy. That’s what busted my balls more than anything. It wasn’t that she had anyone else, who cares? It was that I was trying to switch teams, be her man, suck her dick, and be in a gay relationship, only to be played. SAD!

Some who read this may call it Karma. Or something I had coming because I had slept around. Maybe I wouldn’t disagree, but again, I justify my actions in the fact that I was rarely in an ongoing, continuing developing relationship. And apparently, Geenah wasn’t in one with me either.

I decided the best thing I could do was just take time off from dating. To just let the cards fall where they may. If I met someone, I had an interest in, man or woman, then great. But if not, then it would give me time to think and determine my future.

As for Geenah, I got one message a few days later apologizing, asking me to call her and let her explain who that guy was. I never gave her that chance. I didn’t care. I was of the mindset of Fuck You, and your games. I never answered her text, and she never texted again. So, I guess I knew….

I did see her one other time some years later at a mall around Christmas time. I tied to B-line the other way, but she saw me. As I stood there talking to her, I could see the wedding ring on her finger. I called her out for her bullshit back then. She admitted then that she had been cheating on him with me and tried to convince me, that she wanted more with me but needed his money and his paperwork to keep her here in the US. I didn’t buy it, and I didn’t care anymore.

I had just started my sexual experiences with John at that time and had just about come full circle as to dating men, versus women and she was a distant memory. I knew from day one of meeting John, that I had changed and he was, in all reality, the first guy I had an attraction to as I was still developing my lust for men.

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Clue Ch. 04

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Anal

Clue 04

Cam and Dec begin work in California

All characters described in this story, whether game “pieces” or players, are over 18. Parts of the story attempt to duplicate the stream-of-consciousness, freedom from the rigors of sentence and punctuation grammatical rules– popularized by the Irish novelists of the post-war period, like James Joyce. Cam and Dec met in Clue 01, and vacationed in Ireland in Clue 02 and 03, but this story is more or less standalone. Copyright ©2024, Brunosden. All rights reserved.

The invitation (it really wasn’t so much an invitation as an instruction) to meet the infamous Rupert Gaylord was unusual and produced quite a bit of anxiety in the two new “associates” of GAI Enterprises. Gaylord, the founder and presumably the majority owner, was known to be an eccentric character. He was a recluse, rarely appearing in public–even in the sprawling complex that he had built for his company, located in Los Gatos, one of the quieter suburbs of San Jose. His own gated and walled mansion in the foothills, not far away, was rarely seen (except by drones). He did not sponsor parties or invite employees to visit. But Forbes nevertheless rated him among the 100 wealthiest men in the world–at the age of 34.

Cam (for Cameron) Clay- and Dec (for Declan) Harley are recent graduates of Gailord College of Science in rural Virginia–a school that Rupert had “built” a few years ago to provide the educational background for entry into the AI-enlightened computer industry in general (and the AI-enhanced field of game in particular). Cam and Dec, both of whom transferred in to Gailord and with a little industry coding experience, had done very well at the college. In their last semester, they had entered a contest with a prospectus for a new game. They had won–securing the financing and resources to develop a Beta version at GAI Enterprises. But Rupert Gaylord was known to be an impatient entrepreneur–he wanted progress and completion in short time periods–or he bailed on lagging projects.

His management style was remote. Typically, he acted through a series of project managers, sponsored way more preliminary research than ever could be developed and marketed, and cut the losers on a regular basis–without ever appearing or explaining to the sponsors and employees. But, he didn’t typically terminate the employees–they were given spots on other projects (and a second and last chance to prove their stuff). So many projects were started, but few made it to the finish line. He was fair, generous–but secretive and ruthless.

Both guys, particularly Cam, exhibited the unbridled confidence and self-assurance of most 22 year old graduates. They could do anything, anytime, anywhere. Their grades and the contest win had hardened this self-confidence. But, both knew that the next few weeks would make or break their careers–they could emerge as young millionaires–or be looking for job, depending on the vagaries of the associates assigned to their project and the fickleness of game players (and game buyers). The unusual invitation from the boss had hit a raw nerve however. And the nerve would remain raw for some time–which was exactly what Rupert had in mind with the invitation.

So an introduction to GAI by the emperor himself was indeed highly unusual. Fortunately, the invitation had been communicated a day early. So Cam and Dec had a chance to prepare. They were completely familiar with the outline of the game they had proposed. The concept had been well-developed, some of the characters had been given life, and the basic game-play had be outlined. So they had spent a day acting out the plot, which had evolved after a two week visit to Ireland (the situs of the game) and two nights in a Galway Castle where a giant Viking descendant, named Peter Blake, had demonstrated to Cam what it meant to be “taken” by a big-dicked raider–and where Dec had had a chance to act out a “top” scene from a similarly plotted game with the co-proprietor of the castle.

The game (if it reached market stage) would have three iterations: a PG version involving Viking raids on coastal communities for plunder–where raiders and villagers “learned” from past raids–so each encounter was different and more challenging for both. The second and third versions were R/X versions for the adult-hetero and gay communities–where rape and sexual slavery accompanied the plunder of food and treasure. Cam and Dec assumed that the first would be marketed by GAI; the other would need to go through presumably-unrelated, shadowy distribution channels.

Cam and Dec have been together, more or less, for a year and a half. Cam thought he had seduced the innocent Dec–with his charm, his attractive presence and his technique, but later learned that Dec had had at least some experience at Trinity College, Dublin–and was considered by his classmates there as a prize partner–top or bottom. Cam was convinced that he had found the nicest, most receptive ass in the history of gaydom while Dec was thrilled with Cam’s beşiktaş escort bayan handsome good lucks, long thick dick–and willingness to bottom once in a while. So, by the end of the trip, it was unclear who had seduced whom.

The story now continues in Cam’s voice…

I opened the email on our last day of freedom before we began to sell our imaginations and talents and maybe our souls to corporate mammon. “Fuck, did you see this Dec? God himself plans to handle our first hours at GAI. How unusual is that? We don’t really know anything about him.” Then I read it aloud, “Rupert Gaylord has decided to initiate all the new grant winners personally this year. You are expected to report at HQ (Door B) at 9:00 a.m. PDT August 1. Joel Rogers, Asst. VP, Human Resources.”

“I got the email too and just opened it. What the fuck?”

Dec and I began to exchange tidbits of info–and to speculate about what might be in the works. We realized we didn’t know much about him–except of course for his wealth and success. We had never seen a good picture. Knew he was about 34–maybe. Irish or maybe Scot. Not known to be married. In fact nothing was known about his lifestyle, hobbies, sex life or preferences. A total mystery man. There were a few internet photos–but they were old and he was obscured, typically in the background. And the business articles were all vague since he refused to be interviewed for any of them. Even the ownership of GAI was ultimately secret–it wasn’t a public company.

He, on the other hand, had obvious access to our student records–pictures, memberships (including the LGTBQ+ Club), where we had bunked (including, most likely a note from the RA that we were sleeping in the same room). As Chair of Gaylord College of Science, he presumably had seen almost everything known about us. He knew our grades, ratings, had seen our work and the reviews of our supervisors. He also had the prospectus for our game.

As we talked, our anxiety level began to rise. And, we knew how every young guy likes to take care of that. Both of us were seated at our desktops. (Our desks were both in the living room–it was a small apartment after all–and we didn’t want to mix work and pleasure–so no desks in the bedroom; rents were really high). We were dressed in only tees and lightly knit skimpy sweat shorts. I stood and pulled him up and in for an embrace. I was only slightly taller and slightly more muscular. In fact, we were quite well matched–although we were “finished” quite differently–he a pale, slimly-muscled, freckled ginger; me an athletic, towheaded and deeply tanned “boyish” man from South Carolina. Our lips met; our tongues began the inevitable duel; and, our dicks began to harden in our shorts. It never took long for him to turn me on–and I think the reverse was also true. Both of us were tented within seconds, and our shrouded dicks were already dueling. A very different kind of tension was taking hold.

My hands reached down and squeezed his supple ass cheeks, spreading and using them to pull him tight into me. Holding a pair of ripe hot melons was one of the greatest pleasures of life. Two opposing index fingers rimmed his hole. Then I pushed him into the sofa and spread out above him. I pulled back and slid my hands up under his tee, reaching his pecs as my fingers started playing with his ripe and ready nipples. He lost the tee and my lips replaced my fingers as I sucked. Dec loved it when I nursed on his tits. He began the familiar moan-keen of pleasure, followed by a series of Gaelic and English mono-syllables. “Feck. Yes. More. Please. Chag. Suck those tits, boy. Feck, feck, feck.” Repeated over and over, as he squirmed beneath me. He was totally into this. His legs came up and circled my waist, pulling me tighter so our cocks were straining against each other even inside the knit shorts.

He pulled my tee off. Then we stopped briefly, already breathless and completely aroused, to remove our shorts. I stared down at the beauty below me. Fuck. He’s so beautiful and that cock is truly worth a portrait: tall, straight, nicely bulbed and hooded, about 7 or 8 and medium thick. I planted a wet, sloppy kiss on the purple tip, tasting his first precum. Then, I straddled and stroked our cocks together, slipping down the hoods as I did so, as we both began to leak. Then, I reached up to the table and grabbed the lube. I coated his dick as the hood rolled back with his passion. Then, I reached around and shot a gob into my ass. I shimmied up along his chest, my cock bouncing on his abs, as I reached back and aimed him and began to descend slowly over his rigid pole. I pulled off a bit, paused and descended again, pulling him further in. Then again. Seconds later I felt his soft fiery pubes on my ass. He had filled me and my chute was clasping tightly to his heat.

So I stopped, enjoying the feeling of fullness and the regular throb of his anxious cock, particularly the swollen tube which would soon carry his seed to my gut. I smiled down at him, silently thanking istanbul escort him for his gift.

Dec placed his hands on my hips and gripped me tightly as he flattened the soles of his feet on the sofa pillow, prepping for an athletic ride. He started to buck, turning darker with each upward push. Over and over. Higher and higher. Deeper and deeper. Managing to punch my love nut with every stroke, pushing me up the mountain of pleasure.

“Jesus, DJ loves being inside you Cam. He loves you. So hot. So fucking hot. So tight. So fucking tight. Looking up into your baby blues, I can see your soul. It’s on fire. You’re burning for me. You are mine, Cam. Mine.”

Then, when he suddenly released his grip on my hip dimples, I landed on his gut, harder than I had intended. Dec’s eyes flew open as he strained for depth. DJ snapped through my inner defense. There was a little pain, an explosion of lubing fluid inside and my rampant cock started to leak like a faucet. He had stuck me totally. His shillelagh was planted deep, as deep as anyone had ever been. He didn’t do it often. But, when he did, I was helpless. I’d do anything he wanted to hold on to that feeling to total throbbing fullness–and surrender to the invader. Dec began to move this thighs in a circular motion, stirring my “pot.” Then, he continued to pound and to throb. My prostate was doing deep breathing exercises as he poked it hard and my anal muscles were clenching around the onslaught.

“Jesus, Mary and Joseph. I know it’s August, but it feels like the night before Christmas. I knew I was going to find room in the inn tonight. You let me in after all. So now I’m going to plant. Squeeze, Cam. I’m cummin. Make it really good.”

I did my best to tighten down on his violently pounding cock. But it was hard–and so was DJ. It was so hard, so long, so hot. He was deep in my gut. And the head was the size and the hardness of a poolball. I felt the strain. Then the expansion. His gut muscles tightened. His legs and thighs tensed.

“Feck. It’s on its way, Cam. I can feel my little guys moving. Here it cums. Here they cum.”

I was so full. So complete. I loved this boy. And what he can do to me. I felt the hot spunk moving up the tube. When he exploded deep inside, he spasmed hard and forced out my own spunk–to fly over his chest. He grabbed the head, caught the last of my stuff and brought it to his lips–as I fell onto his chest–totally aroused, totally spent–and not at all anxious about tomorrow. He remained deep inside, plugging his seed in me. Absolutely no more apprehension. From either of us. We’d make it.

We’d always have each other. We were so good together. And not only in bed. We were great at game-creation. We were going to knock it out of the park. If we can fuck like this, we can do anything.

A few minutes later, he slipped out. I got up and used a moist towel to clean us both up. We moved to the bed and spooned. Later that night, we tried again. This time with me sliding in to his moist, hot cunt from the side. He moaned in pleasure as he roused from light sleep. “Oh, fuck, Cam. I love it when you slip him in like that. I think it’s unique to you smooth, drawl-talking Southern boys. You can fuck someone before they even know you’re inside–but once you’re there, there can be no mistake. You know how to do it. It’s one of my favs–a stealth fuck.”

I continued the slow hip-driven strokes, deep and hot, with lots of love nut contact, as my hands held his gut tight into me. I felt him spasm. He was already ahead of me. So I reached down, cupped his balls and massaged them gently as the heel of my hand pressed on the taint.

“Oh, fuck, Cam. You are so good to me.” Then the contractions started and my hand moved to the glans to catch his spunk. I straightened my legs and strained to deepen as I too blasted inside. I held there for a few minutes, then rolled back and brought my cum-filled palm to my tongue. He flipped and pressed his chest into mine as we stared into each other’s eyes. “We’ve got this, Dec. Don’t worry.”

******

We knew that GAI, like most of the Valley, was very casual. But, nevertheless we dressed carefully: Bonobos chinos with a touch of stretch (really can’t hurt to show off two very cute bubble butts), tight polos (yes, with a collar, but tight enough to show that we worked out–he wore emerald green, of course, and mine was periwinkle blue) and sock-less leather loafers. We wanted an adult impression, but not too stuffy. We were meeting the boss after all. We arrived early–to find a large parking lot filled with expensive cars. I guess folks start early here, and they make enough to afford these impressive wheels.

The lobby was tasteful, but small. Visitors rarely came to GAI–and this entrance was apparently not used by “associates.” We were ushered into the HR wing by an attractive “Valley Girl” with ironed, bleached hair and left in a small conference room. It had windows looking toward the nearby hills to the East, and so it was bright with the early escort bayan rus morning sun, even through the smog. It was eerily quiet: there was no music.

A minute or two later, a cart was rolled in with coffee, waters and pastries. And no sooner had the waiter left, than a hidden door built into the opposite wall opened, and Rupert entered. Dec and I stood of course and turned toward the famous man. But no, it was Peter Blake–our host and dom at Galway Castle! We were stunned. His hand went out, “Good morning guys, I’m Rupert Gaylord.” He stood back just a foot or so and his eyes swept over us. “I see you’re a little surprised. Yes, I do look a little like him. Peter is my older brother–by about a year. I know we look quite a bit alike. And yes, he’s told me about your recent visit to his newest toy. Perhaps in more graphic detail than I really needed. But he didn’t exaggerate how attractive you both are.”

“I guess you already know Peter. Actually, he’s the co-owner of GAI and really quite involved, although silently, with the Science school and some of our less famous activities. He warned me that I’d want to meet with you personally. Welcome to GAI, my not-so-little baby.”

As he spoke, I noted that while the two brothers were actually incredibly alike in appearance–same height, same enormous build, same “Black Irish” hair and pale complexion, they were actually quite different–in dress and speech. Rupert was an impressive man, dressed entirely in an expensive tailored silk and wool suit–in black, with a black alligator belt and a white French-cuffed shirt. His only concession to local custom was that he had a pocket-stuffer in emerald green, but the neck of the shirt was wide and open, showing quite a bit of dark chest hair. I stared. Quite impolitely, I’m afraid. He and Peter were really almost twins–and of course, I had seen Peter at his best–naked and rampant.

Then he broke the tension with a deep series of guffaws. “I’ve filmed these minutes.” He pointed to a camera lens in the corner of the room. “Peter will enjoy seeing them, I’m sure. He told me all about the Aer Lingus flight. But, let me add a bit of caution here. We have private rooms on campus for such experimentation. I’d rather you keep your needs private–at least from the other associates. No trysts on the coding floor, please.”

“Peter’s full name, incidentally is Peter Blake Gaylord. He doesn’t use the last name much. In a few weeks you’ll understand. And since I am rarely seen in public, few know of our relationship. We like it that way. Sometimes I think he’s a little indiscreet in satisfying his needs. We are really pretty different in that sense. I’m as private as he is public. It’ll be our little secret.”

“I’ve reviewed your prospectus. I’m optimistic that you’ve got a winner. Peter does too. And so the R/X versions will be commercialized by the sister company that he controls in Ireland. Now, I’ve had my fun. Sorry to shock you. Good luck, boys. I’d like you to come by for dinner at my place next Saturday. You are everything that Peter raved about–and maybe a little more. But, I’ll wait to see the rest.”

Then he pushed a button on the tabletop. “Ms. Steele will handle all the details now. I’m sorry it might take a few hours. But, I’m sure you’ll make it up. After she completes the legal stuff, she’ll take you to your workspace, introduce you to your coding team and show you where you can have meals–breakfast, lunch and dinner if you choose–and where you can crash after you’ve put in 20 or so hours. Welcome again to GAI.”

His hand shot out again and he gripped each of ours in a vise as the other went behind and pulled us in, before smiling, turning and leaving from the hidden door–before Ms. Steele arrived–entering through a different door, of course.

In the ensuing few minutes, Dec and I stared at each other in silence. We were stunned. We spoke not a word, but I’m sure our minds were pondering the same questions. What had we got ourselves into? There were two Gaylord brothers? Both Viking giants. And probably equally gifted by the Celtic gods. I wonder why they use different last names? And are they both gay and rough tops? Were the meeting on the flight and the castle invitation entirely coincidental? Were we really upgraded to business–or did Peter use his influence? Is Peter a pimp for Rupert? Or vice versa–after all, we had told GAI that we were headed to Ireland for a few weeks “research” before starting.

I guess we’d soon find out.

We completed the formalities and were led into one of the large open rooms on the second floor of one of the arms of the star-shaped building. It was filled with cubicles, separated by shoulder-height soft walls, each fitted with multiple desktops, several sitting areas for “conferences,” and a mini-stocked kitchen. “This will be your space–exclusively. In a few minutes, a platoon of our floating coders and graphic artists will arrive for your introduction and assignments. They typically work independently, here about half-time–although so long as they are productive, they only need to be here one day a week–the day when you can schedule all-hands-on-deck discussions. They typically share the cubicles–so actually although there are only 8 work stations here, you’ll be assigned 12 associates.”

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My Roommate Made Me A Sissy Ch. 05

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Blonde

“He-ey,” Ashley said as she opened the door.

“Hey,” I said back without nearly the amount of enthusiasm I wanted to show.

“So, what are we doing? Where are we going?”

Up to your room to fuck, I thought to myself. It was the only thing I wanted to do at that moment and while Ashley seemed into me I didn’t think it would go over well if I blurted that out before we had even gone on our first date.

“I don’t know. Are you hungry?”

I wasn’t really hungry but I figured that was a good thing. After everything with Aaron before I left my entire mindset for the night was thrown off. The only thing I wanted to do was purge it and so I wasn’t so distracted.

“Um, yeah. I can eat. Where do you want to go?”

She looked at me while twirling the end of her hair in her finger. I knew this look. Every guy knew this look. Ashley was into me and if I was any kind of charming we would be in her bed before the night was over. All I needed to do was be cool.

“I’m good with whatever. What are you hungry for?”

Please say dick. Please say dick.

I looked at her and she smiled at me and bit her lower lip. It was basically the same as saying what I was thinking but playing coy about it.

“What about Burger King? I can get us a discount,” she smiled at me.

“Yeah, sure. I can do a whopper.”

“Tristan,” she stood and stared at me awkwardly, “I was joking. I’m not going to fucking Burger King.”

I shook my head and stammered to try and play it off.

“Yeah, yeah. I know. I was just calling it on you.”

She looked at me oddly again and shook her head slowly.

“You can be a bit of a spaz, you know that?”

I sighed and didn’t answer. We had been standing in the doorway outside of her house for a couple of minutes now and things were getting awkward. My mind was a single track and I knew if I could just show her an okay time we would be back at her place riding that track.

Fucking Aaron. Fuck him.

Everything was fine before he grabbed me as I was slipping out of the room. I’d have been fine. We would be laughing and having a good time. I wouldn’t be tripping over my tongue right now. Fucking hell. I figured I might as well try for a hail mary and see what happens because this is going down fast.

“Look, honestly, all I want to do is get you out of that dress and see what that ass feels like in my hands.”

I stared at her and her eyes widened as she stared back. My eyes locked onto hers and didn’t waver. If this was all going to hell I was going to go out in a blaze of horniness. As she was opening her mouth to respond the door opened.

“Ashley? You’re still here? Oh, hi there. I’m Ashley’s dad.”

An older man, gray hair and taller than me stood just inside of the door. My entire body went stiff. How old was she? Did he hear what I just said to her? She didn’t live alone? Fuck!

“Oh, hey. Hi. Yeah, hello.”

“Oh my god, Dad. Can you go back inside? We’re just trying to figure out where to go eat,” Ashley grabbed my hand and squeezed it very tight. She pulled me down the walkway to the street and to my car. Her dad disappeared back behind the door after calling out for us to have a good time. I squeezed her hand back and she returned it tighter.

That’s good, right?

We moved around to the passenger door and I opened it for her and she slipped inside. I hurried back over to my door and got in, closed it and looked at her as she reached her hand between my legs and grabbed at my crotch and squeezed tightly. My hips flung up to meet her grip and she lunged into me to kiss my lips. I kissed her back but the force of her pushed me back into my door and I had to break our kiss to push us out of the street light.

“Just a min, Just a minute,” I was panting trying to catch my breath.

Ashley had a hungry look in her eyes from the other side of the car as if she wanted to devour me right there. I had to deter her from lunging again and pushing me back against the window of the car.

I laughed a little, smiling at her eagerness.

“Ashley. Ash. Girl, slow down.”

She shook her head from side to side.

“You said you wanted me out of this dress and to feel your hands on my ass. There’s only one way for that to happen.”

Her hands went down and balled her dress up her legs, exposing her hips and her black panties as they hugged her tightly. They even looked too small, digging into her skin as it puckered around the lace fabric. She was so fucking thick that even if her hand wasn’t kneading my cock I’d still be rock hard.

“Yes, I do,” I couldn’t stop smiling at her eagerness. I don’t know why though, it’s not like any of this was funny. It was most likely because she was into me and barring a complete catastrophe we would be fucking tonight.

“But,” I couldn’t believe that I was trying to get her to stay in her clothes, “we need to get the fuck away from your house. Your dad is probably in there looking out of the window at us. If he sees you pining me up against the window, or we sit bayrampaşa escort bayan here for too much longer he’s probably going to come out and see what’s going on. Let’s go somewhere and we’ll see what happens.”

She flopped back into her seat and pouted like a spoiled child, but in a cute way.

“Fine. Go. Drive. But I’m taking my hand back,” she removed her hand from my crotch and folded her arms in her seat.

“No, you aren’t. That’s the one thing you’re going to keep doing,” I grabbed her hand and put it back between my legs. I smashed her palm against my hard cock so I knew she felt it and then started the car and drove off.

We drove away from her house and all the thoughts of dinner, food, anything where the night had been going had disappeared. The only thing I had on my mind was trying to think of a place to take her to fuck that sweet pussy of hers. I was getting antsy as she continued rubbing my erection. My breathing was heavy, although I didn’t realize how heavy but she could tell how turned on I was.

Night had settled onto the sky and it was dark enough that headlights blinded anything going on in the other cars on the road. The only way anyone was going to see what she was doing was if we were stopped right next to them at a streetlight or stop sign.

“My hand is getting tired, would you mind if I used my mouth?”

She smiled at me as I flicked my head her way with a shocked grin smeared across my face. Ashley had such a pretty, innocent face that the words were surprising despite what her hands were currently doing. I could tell she used that innocent look on her face to her advantage and she was in full control despite me being the one who is serviced.

I wanted to play it cool and not seem too eager, but also wanted her to drop her face down over my dick and not come up for air until morning.

“You aren’t concerned your mouth’s going to get too tired though? How will we talk the rest of the night?”

Ashley smiled wickedly while dropping her head down into my lap, “you don’t want to listen to me talk.”

Her words droned quieter as her face disappeared downward. My eyes left the road and watched her until it was only the back of her head I could see. The dark hair falling over my lap blending into the darkness. The next sensation was her warm breath and wet tongue running along my shaft. My fingers gripped the wheel tight.

A horn blared through shining headlights and I jerked my head upward and veered the car back into the right lane. Ashley flicked the tip of her tongue along the slit on the tip of my cock.

“You’re not supposed to lose control of the car until you cum. This doesn’t bode well for you Tristan. You’re very weak. I could have you wrapped around my finger if this is all it takes,” she was being a brat. I loved it.

She didn’t give me a chance to respond and dropped her lips over the head and slid most of the length of my erection into her mouth. I groaned loudly and my foot pressed into the gas. I could almost hear her chuckle against my cock as the engine whirred faster with my foot pressing into the pedal. I needed to find somewhere to stop so I could enjoy this.

“Fuck, that feels so fucking good, Ashley,” I moaned.

One hand gripped the wheel as the other rested on the back of her head. There was a slow force, slightly more than gravity that pushed my hand down on the back of her head. I wanted to feel it all in her mouth and I wanted her to hear her gagging on it. Choking, messy sounds and strings of saliva and cum stretched from my cock to her lips were running through my head. Every porn I had tried to masturbate to in the last few days was what I wanted this to turn into. She was my cumslut. She was my whore.

“My god it feels so fucking good finally having a girl’s lips on my dick.”

The words were innocent enough but Ashley’s brattiness caught them and swatted back.

“Why? Have you had a man’s lips on your dick recently?”

She pulled up off of my cock and smirked at me. Her answer was so playful and cute. A proper answer by any sort of dominant, top, master, sir would have told her to shut up and shove her face back onto her task and then hold her there to make her choke and gag for a few moments. But that’s not what I did.

All of my insecurities rushed into the forefront of my mind. Every second with Aaron had wiped the incredible feeling of having Ashley servicing my dick out of me. My face turned red, as if someone injected me with dye and it spread across from cheek to cheek, forehead to neck. She noticed immediately and her wide, playful grin faltered.

“No!” I had said this way too forcefully. It came out much harder than I had intended.

“Why would you say that? When would I have ever had a man’s,” I paused, not able to continue the sentence to finish it and instead repeating myself.

“Why would you say that?”

The look on my face was anger and confusion. Of course I knew why she said it and I knew why it was bothering me so much, bayan escort but she didn’t. If she didn’t know why it would bother me so much then why would she even bring it up. These were questions for the universe and its sick fucking game it had me in. Why couldn’t it just let me have this night to be happy and forget?

Ashley stuttered an apology and pulled back from hovering over my lap to sit back in her seat. She used the back of her hand to wipe the saliva from her lips. My cock was softening and left exposed. She pulled her dress down over her knee. The silence sat heavily in the car as we drove aimlessly.

“I’m sorry. God, Ashley, I don’t know why I said it like that.”

She shook her head indicating it was okay while also indicating she was feeling awkward and it was clearly not okay.

“No, Ash. It’s not you. I wasn’t even really talking to you. When I was younger, as a kid, I was teased. A lot. I was just kind of like I am now. Wirey. Slim.”

I started rambling, but with a purpose. Most of what I was telling her wasn’t a lie. It all happened. I was teased and called names. I wasn’t good at sports and some of the bully, jock type guys would call me a faggot. That wasn’t what was happening here though. I was lying through my teeth to smooth over the moment, trying to back everything up to try and salvage the night.

“I was called gay because I didn’t have a girlfriend and because I liked video games. They, the guys, the jerks, they would spread rumors that I spent my entire weekend taking turns being on my hands and knees with the other losers. I’m sorry, I just, I guess trauma comes up in the most random places sometimes and you didn’t have anything to do with it. I just didn’t expect it to come up there. I’ve been pretty good at being able to forget it but it was so unexpected that I slipped up. Ashley, I’m really sorry.”

She doesn’t respond. I continued driving.

After a few minutes of aimless driving I consider turning around and taking her home. The night started off bad and was saved by some bizarre left turns on my part, but maybe it wasn’t meant to be. Maybe I needed to get my head straight before I could actually be with someone who isn’t using me for sexual gratification.

“Why are you like this?” She speaks up at last as I turn my signal to go left and start to drive her home.

“Like what?” I hold my voice of any resentment and try to keep it purely a question.

“We haven’t known each other very long but you’re so hit and miss. One moment you’re cool and hot and I want to get to know you more. Then, within the same five minutes, you’re awkward and weird and I don’t know why you’re acting the way you do. I think you’re into me and then I have no idea what you’re thinking. I thought maybe if we went out-,” I cut her off before she goes on too far.

“Ash, stop. No it’s,” I sigh and consider telling her the truth. I let the moment in time run like a flash through my mind. I’d tell her that I like her and it’s what is causing all of this strangeness, or part of it. Then I tell her about losing my job and Aaron and how he wouldn’t let me go for a month until I found something. After that I tell her about his offer, rejecting it, meeting her and then not wanting to find a new place or move and making a rash decision in accepting his offer.

But I don’t tell her that. Why would I? What kind of bizarre situation would ever warrant me telling her about the deal I made with Aaron? Yes, I’ve sucked my roommates huge fucking cock three times now. He even sucked mine and I masturbated and ejaculated while sucking his one of those times. In fact, I sucked his cock right before coming to see you, did you taste it when you kissed me? To think, it’s all I have to do and I don’t have to pay rent. What a deal, huh?

“I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. I don’t mean to trauma dump on you like this all on our first date.”

Trauma dump? Where the fuck did I come up with that? I must have seen it scrolling Twitter or something. I could see in her face that it had some merit though. She wasn’t hard-faced and staring out of the window, but looking at me as I talked. I tried to turn to meet her gaze every few moments to try and convey a connection.

“The truth is that it’s been a long time since I’ve been with a girl. Off the top of my head I can’t remember when I last got broken up with and finding another girl that was worth risking being hurt again was a lot. It wasn’t until you that I thought it would be worth trying.”

I let the words sink in and stop talking for a moment, then I have an idea, “and on top of that I have my damn roommate threatening to throw me out. I lose my job and go right out and get one and he threatens to throw me out and all of my stuff onto the street if I don’t pay him right away.”

“That’s why you’re trying to get a job at Burger King?”

Her voice had an inquisitive realization in it, as if she was piecing together her own questions about me. I looked over at her and the upset look on her face had melted away.

“I’m bağcılar escort bayan sorry, Tristan. I didn’t think you might be going through some stuff also. I guess a lot of people don’t really think of things like that. That other people have issues and their own lives. I hope I haven’t made things more difficult for you.”

“No. No, baby, no. You’ve been amazing. Honestly you’ve been the only good thing the last week. The idea of taking you out has been the only thing that’s gotten me through all of shit I’ve been dealing with.”

Okay, so that wasn’t necessarily a lie. Thinking about getting with Ashley has been the only thing that has allowed me to have Aaron’s dick in my mouth multiple times. Tonight has been a rollercoaster but it’s trending upward and she is still the only person I want to be with right now.

As I’m taking another turn at an intersection the air in the car pushes towards me. Ashley’s hand is rubbing across my thigh and has engaged my deflated penis. She begins tugging at it gently, stroking it as it flops about in her hand. Her fingers dive deep below my jeans and rub the seam leading to my anus. I tense up and whimper, which causes her to smile with an audible satisfaction, “find somewhere to park.”

There’s a shopping center up ahead and as it’s getting later in the evening most of the spots are empty with a few cars peppered throughout the parking lot. I pull in and park towards the outskirts of the shopping center under a dimly lit area due to one of the light poles not working. I put the car in park and turn off the engine. That’s all it takes for Ashley to lunge across the car again, this time mounting me and driving her tongue into my mouth.

Ashley’s hips grind against me. I can feel the soft cotton of her panties. The zipper to my jeans is causing me to twitch awkwardly so I reach down, loop my thumbs in the waistband of my jeans and underwear and shove them both down below my knees. Her panty-clad bottom settles nicely against my waist and she continues grinding her panties against me. It takes very little time for my cock to grow fully erect. She’s hiking up her dress and pulling it over her shoulders. Our kiss breaks and she tosses the dress in the backseat.

Her tits are magnificent. They are spilling out of the gigantic black bra that is desperately trying to hold them in. With each thrust of her hips she grinds her waist down in a twisting motion to coax my dick into the hardest erection it’s ever felt, while at the same time causing her massive tits to bounce and ripple in my face. Her hot breath floods down over me and I can’t wait to fuck her anymore.

My hands move like wildfire. I grab ahold of my erection with one hand and grasp her panties between her thighs with the other. With her panties pulled to the side I position my tip to her waiting, dampened pussy and she sinks down onto me with a flush of steam pouring from both of us. Our mouths, our bodies and our tension all let loose as I entered her. She drops her mouth open and a pained expression pours over her face. She screams out.

“Oh, GOD, Fuck!”

That was the most intense thing any woman has ever said the first time we had sex. It’s driving me wild and I’ve eagerly started thrusting my hips up into her, pushing deeper into her tightness and causing her to bury her face in my neck after another pained expression and seething gasp.

I was all of the way inside of her now, I could feel her uneasily settled against my thighs. Her movements were short and uneasy. She was trembling and muttering the same combination of curse words.

My weight shifts, trying to get a better angle to be able to push inside of her but nothing feels right. Though, with each movement Ashley is slowly bouncing more and more eagerly. Her hips are rocking back and forth and she pulls down the cups to her bra, pinching and twisting her nipples as they spill out gloriously.

“Mmm, fuck, Ashley,” I begin as I’m readying to ask her if we can move to the backseat as I can’t quite get comfortable, but she cries out louder as I push my hips and slide along the seat.

“Oh FUCK, Tristaa-aan,” the words growl from her chest and her mouth drops open. She slams herself down on my waist and then her body lets loose into an intense orgasm. Her legs are shaking and she starts to erupt. I can feel her gushing between her legs onto me. I’ve heard of female ejaculation but never had experienced it or even really watched any videos of it aside from comically overblown ones. It turns out they weren’t comically overblown.

I’m thoroughly soaked. The seat of my car is drenched. Both Ashley and my waist and thighs are stained from her sexual explosion. She is laying flat against me, panting. Every few moments her body has an intense shiver, like an aftershock and she moans into my shoulder as if she’s having another orgasm along with it. The car now reeks of musky sex.

“Oh my god. I am so sorry. I never,” Ashley is whispering weakly into my neck now.

“No. No, its okay. It was amazing. Don’t worry about it.”

I’m quick to try and ease any kind of embarrassment she might be feeling. I don’t want her to feel like that. I’m flattered that I was able to cause that kind of orgasm in her actually and it makes me feel better. It gives me a sense of manliness.

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Mein Leben mit Onkel John

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Freie Übersetzung der Story „My Affair With My Uncle” von Vic5.

1

Sein harter Schwanz glitt immer wieder tief in meine schmatzende Pussy. Er lag auf mir und ich hatte meine Beine breit gespreizt, um ihm den besten Zugang zu gewähren.

Die Ekstase war greifbar in der Luft und wir küssten uns immer wieder und ich drückte ihn fest an mich, wollte, dass dieser wundervolle Moment niemals endet.

Sein dicker, fetter Schwanz pflügte durch meine Fotze, als sei er dafür gemacht und ich spürte, wie sich mein Orgasmus anbahnte.

„Oh ja, fick mich, John, fick mich tief und fest, ich komme gleich!”

Er wusste, was ich brauchte und nahm mich hart und schnell. Mein Kopf explodierte und kurz darauf begann mein Körper zu zittern, während die Lust in Wellen durch meinen Körper schwappte und ich laut aufstöhnte.

Mein Onkel John weiß genau, was ich brauche, wann und wie ich es brauche. Er ist der perfekte Liebhaber für mich. Meine Fotze schloss sich eng um seinen Schwanz und ließ ihn aufstöhnen.

„Gott, Marylin, ich liebe dich!” stöhnte er in mein Ohr. Es waren die süßen Worte, die mich noch verrückter machten.

Als mein Orgasmus langsam abzuebben begann, nahm er mich in den Arm und drehte uns beide schwungvoll um. Ich lag jetzt auf ihm und sah ihm in die Augen. Meinem Onkel und Liebhaber.

„Ich liebe dich auch!” flüsterte ich und küsste ihn. Unablässig drückte er von unten in meine Pussy und ich ritt sein Werkzeug, das so perfekt zu mir zu passen schien.

Er packte meine Titten hart und begann zu stöhnen. Ich wusste, er würde bald kommen, also ließ ich mein Becken über ihm tanzen. Plötzlich stöhnte er auf und sein Schwanz verharrte regungslos in mir. Nur Sekunden später spürte ich seinen heißen Samen, der sich in mir ausbreitete, was mir einen wohligen Schauer über den Rücken laufen ließ.

Ich küsste ihn und unsere Zungen spielten verliebt miteinander.

Ich stieg von ihm herunter und nahm seinen Schwanz in den Mund. Er liebt es, wenn ich ihn blase, kurz nachdem er gekommen ist. Diesmal hatte ich zudem besonders viel Glück, denn er blieb hart.

Also leckte ich kurz, ging dann auf alle Viere und bot ihm mein Hinterteil an. „Komm, John”, bettelte ich ihn an. „Du weißt, was ich jetzt will. Fick mich nochmal von hinten und lass uns dieses Mal gemeinsam kommen.”

Mein Onkel kletterte hinter mich, ich machte einen krummen Rücken und streckte meinen Arsch in die Höhe. Ich spürte, wie er meine Arschbacken auseinanderzog. Er mochte den Anblick meiner beiden Löcher, vor allem meine lustvoll aufklaffende Fotze.

Er setzte seine Eichel an und schob mir seinen Steifen mit einem einzigen Stoß so tief in mich, dass er an meinen Muttermund stieß. „Mhhhhmmmm!” stöhnte ich laut und gierig.

Dieses Gefühl ist der Hammer! Am Anfang, das weiß ich noch, tat es mir weh, wenn er mich dort berührte. Inzwischen ist das der Kick für mich. Das Gefühl, dass seine Eichel an meinen Muttermund schlägt, bereit, seinen Samen tief in meine Gebärmutter zu spritzen, das hat etwas so Gewaltiges und Herrliches, dass es meine Geilheit sofort ins Immense steigert.

Minutenlang fickte er mich hart und tief und fest und ich kam mehrmals hintereinander, bis sein Saft in mich spritzte und meine Gebärmutter zu überfluten schien.

Er stieg von mir herunter und ich legte mich in seine Arme, küsste ihn erneut und schaute ihn an.

„Ich liebe dich, Onkel John.”

„Du sollst mich doch nicht Onkel nennen!” tadelte er mich sanft.

Ich schaute ihm in die Augen. „Wann werden wir damit aufhören, John?”

Er lächelte. „Wenn es nach mir geht niemals!”

Ich grinste. „Damit könntest du recht haben!”

„John!”, begann ich wieder halbherzig, „ich bin seit zwei Jahren verheiratet, habe eine Tochter. Wir müssen endlich aufhören! Es ist nicht fair meinem Mann gegenüber.”

„Was er nicht weiß, macht ihn nicht heiß. Und so lange es uns beiden gefällt und wir uns lieben…”

„Ja, du hast ja Recht”, gab ich lächelnd zu. „Aber du solltest dich jetzt langsam anziehen und verschwinden. Nicht dass mein Tom uns noch erwischt.”

„Ja, du hast recht”, erwiderte John mit einem bedauernden Zug um seine Lippen. „Das nächste Mal kommst du wieder zu mir. Da können wir länger und in Ruhe miteinander ficken!””

„Versprochen!”

Da fiel mir etwas ein. „Kommst du am Sonntag zum Mittagessen? Ich mache für uns alle essen und ihr Männer könnt euch über Fußball und so’n Zeug unterhalten.”

John lächelte grimmig. „Du weißt, dass ich Tom mag, aber mir fällt es schwer, ihm in die Augen zu sehen, so zu tun, als sei alles normal. Am liebsten würde ich ihm ins Gesicht schreien, dass ich regelmäßig seine Frau vögele!”

Ich lächelte nur. „Komm einfach!”

„Okay!”

Er küsste mich nochmal, dann stand er auf, raffte seine Kleidung zusammen und verabschiedete sich schnell. Ich stand auf und schaute nach meiner Tochter. Die schlief noch tief und fest.

2

Während ich duschte und mir unsere Säfte vom Körper escort topkapı spülte musste ich wieder zurückdenken an die Zeit, als alles begann. Ich war kurz vor dem Abitur, als meine Eltern bei einem Autounfall getötet wurden.

Als einziger Verwandter übernahm John sofort die Pflicht und bot mir an für mich zu sorgen. Wir verstanden uns schon damals prächtig. Anders als mit seiner Frau. Die kam nicht damit zurecht, plötzlich für eine Siebzehnjährige verantwortlich zu sein. Es gab dauernd Krach und schließlich zog sie aus und am Ende stand die Scheidung von John.

Ich hatte damals große Sorgen, dass er es mir übel nehmen würde, dass ich dafür gesorgt hatte, dass es zur Scheidung kam, doch Onkel John gestand mir, dass er schon früh gemerkt hatte, dass die beiden charakterlich eigentlich gar nicht zueinander passten.

„Es ist gut so wie es ist!” pflegte er seitdem zu der Angelegenheit zu sagen.

Er gab sich Mühe ein guter Vaterersatz für mich zu sein. Er, der keine Kinder hatte und unerwartet vor diese Aufgabe gestellt wurde. Und diese Aufgabe meisterte er gut! Seine Tipps zum Umgang mit Jungen halfen mir gut durch die Zeit zu kommen.

Als ich mit knapp 18 mein Abitur machte, war ich immer noch Jungfrau. Ich hatte Ben, meinen Freund, den ich wann immer es möglich war mit einem Blowjob beglückte. Es war gut für ihn und gut für mich. Ich liebe Schwänze und ich liebe den Geschmack von Sperma und das Ganze hatte noch etwas anderes Gutes: ich konnte nicht schwanger werden. Safer Sex eben.

Der Tag meines achtzehnten Geburtstages war nur wenige Tage nach meinem bestandenen Abitur. Also bereiteten John und ich gemeinsam ein schönes Essen zu und buken eine Geburtstagstorte. Nach dem Essen ging ich zu meinen Freunden feiern und kam ziemlich angetrunken und aufgegeilt nach Hause.

Mein Onkel John schimpfte nicht, sagte keinen Ton. Er nahm mich nur auf die Arme, trug mich in mein Zimmer und legte mich auf das Bett. Ich war den ganzen Abend über schon rattenscharf gewesen und hatte Ben zweimal ausgelutscht. Ich lag mit juckender Möse auf meinem Bett und mein Onkel saß neben mir und schaute mich nachdenklich an.

„Kannst du dich alleine ausziehen, Liebling?”

Natürlich konnte ich, doch in diesem Moment stach mich der Hafer.

„Ich weiß nicht, John. Hilfst du mir bitte?” sagte ich mit wehleidig gespieltem Gesichtsausdruck.

Gemeinsam zogen wir mich bis auf den Slip aus. John wollte mich unter die Decke schieben, als ich meinte: „Nein, John. Den Slip auch noch!” Dann log ich: „Ich schlafe immer nackt!”

John schaute mich ernst an, dann half er mir den Slip auszuziehen. Während er ihn über meine Beine zog, sah ich, wie sein Blick fest auf meine rasierte Pussy gerichtet war.

„Du rasierst dich?” fragte er.

Ich nickte. „Gefällt es dir? Das machen heute alle!”

Ich spreizte neckisch die Beine und sein Blick sog sich sofort an meinen Mösenlippen fest. Meine Hand griff seine und legte sie auf meinen Venushügel.

„Fühl mal! Alles ganz glatt!” Ich bewegte seine Hand hin und her. Ich war schlagartig nüchtern.

Mein Onkel wollte seine Hand wegziehen, doch ich drückte sie fest an mich und schob sie immer tiefer. Schließlich lag sie auf meinen Mösenlippen. Hier war es feucht und warm.

Langsam begann ich seine Hand hin und her zu reiben. Ich war so aufgegeilt und es tat so gut, seine Hand dort zu spüren, dass ich nicht aufhören konnte.

Schließlich nickte mein Onkel, lächelte mich an und übernahm die Initiative. Behutsam begann er mit dem Finger in mich einzudringen und mich zu streicheln. Ich war am Ziel meiner Träume, als ich mich ekstatisch aufbäumte und seine Hand in meinem Saft badete.

„Schlaf jetzt!” sagte John sanft und deckte mich zu.

Obwohl ich sauer war, dass er mich so heiß zurückließ hatte war ich doch froh. Der Bann war gebrochen! Diese Nacht hatte ich sehr feuchte Träume und mehr als einmal kam John darin vor.

3

Als ich am nächsten Morgen aufwachte und mich leichte Kopfschmerzen plagten, kam der gestrige Abend wieder in Erinnerung. Ich rappelte mich auf, ging duschen und zog mir nur eine Shorts und ein T-Shirt an.

In der Küche traf ich auf meinen Onkel, der zerknirscht und übermüdet aussah.

Kaum saß ich am Tisch, überschüttete er ich mit Entschuldigungen, dass es ihm leid täte und es nie, nie wieder vorkommen würde.

Ich sah ihm in die Augen und er war gespannt auf meine Reaktion.

„John, du brauchst dich nicht zu entschuldigen. Es war wahnsinnig schön! So etwas Schönes habe ich noch nie erlebt!”

Erleichtert schaute er mich an. Er nahm meine Hand und küsste sie. „Meinst du das ernst, Liebling?”

Ich stand auf, nahm ihn in die Arme und küsste ihn auf die Wange, dann setzte ich mich wieder hin.

„Ben und ich machen nur Petting”, flüsterte ich. „Ich warte noch auf den richtigen Mann.”

„Wenn das so ist, dann denke ich wird es Zeit, dass du weitere sexuelle Erfahrungen machst. Wenn du sagst, dass es das escort kocaeli Schönste war, was du bisher erlebt hast, dann hast du in der Tat nicht viel erlebt.”

Ich schaute ihn an. „Ja, ich weiß. Du warst es doch, der mich immer gewarnt hat nicht schwanger zu werden.”

Er schlug kurz die Augen nieder. „Ja, ich weiß. Ich wollte nicht, dass Ben… oder irgendein anderer… dich anfasst…”

Durch mein von Kopfschmerzen geplagtes Gehirn wand sich ein Gedanke.

„Ja, das ist ja normal, dass die Eltern nicht wollen, dass ihr Mädchen von einem Jungen…”

„Hier ist es etwas anders…” sagte mein Onkel ungewohnt leise.

Ich konnte immer noch nicht glauben, dass ich tatsächlich das Richtige dachte. „Heißt das…”

Mein Onkel nahm meine Hand, schaute mir fest in die Augen. „Ja, mein Liebling, ich wollte dich immer für mich. Weißt du, ich hab mich damals sterilisieren lassen, weil wir keine Kinder hatten und auch keine mehr wollten. Und nun bin ich ohne Frau… ohne regelmäßigen Druckabbau… Aber das ist es nicht alleine. Als du dann kamst, habe ich mich sofort in dich verliebt. Den siebzehnjährigen, wilden Teenager, der mein Leben auf den Kopf stellte. Der mir zeigte, dass meine Frau und ich nichts mehr gemeinsam hatten. Der meine Ehe zerstörte… was ein wahres Glück für mich war!”

Er hatte leise gesprochen, ruhig und ernsthaft.

„Dann nahm ich dich als Frau war, als junge, begehrenswerte Frau. Mein sexuelles Verlangen kam zurück und ich hatte Gedanken… unanständige Gedanken… Ich hoffe, du verachtest mich jetzt nicht.”

Ich sah ihm fest in die Augen. Er wusste ja nicht, wie wohl ich mich an seiner Seite gefühlt hatte, wie dankbar ich ihm war, dass er mich aufgenommen und mir Halt gegeben hatte in der schweren Zeit.

Ich sah ihn lange an. Und was ich sah, beruhigte mich. Ich sah Liebe und Verständnis und den Wunsch nach Verzeihung, aber auch Neugier, Verlangen, Gier.

So viele Gedanken strömten auf mich ein. Dass mich meine Freundinnen prüde fanden, weil ich schon so lange Jungfrau war. Gleichzeitig hatte kaum eine von ihnen beim „ersten Mal” gute Erfahrungen gemacht.

Ich liebte ihn als meinen Onkel und als Ersatzvater. Konnte ich ihn mir auch als Liebhaber vorstellen? Als den Mann, der mich zur Frau machte und mit dem ich mehr als einmal das Bett teilen wollte?

Ich nahm seine Hand und drückte sie. „Ich denke darüber nach”, sagte ich leise.

„Das ist mehr, als ich zu hoffen gewagt habe”, erwiderte John glücklich.

In meinem Inneren wusste ich es längst: mein Onkel war genau der Mann, auf den ich gewartet hatte. „Den Richtigen”, den, der mich zur Frau macht. Meine Möse war klatschnass und juckte wie verrückt.

4

Den ganzen Tag über lenkte ich mich ab, alberte mit meinen Freundinnen herum, ging Shoppen. Als ich an einem Dessous-Laden vorbeikam, dachte ich plötzlich, was John wohl gefallen könnte und ich kaufte ein teures rotes Dessous-Set, das nur aus sehr wenig Stoff bestand. Schon als ich in der Umkleidekabine stand und es anprobierte, musste ich an John denken, und wie er mich berührte.

Erneut lief ich fast aus!

Abends ließen wir uns etwas von unserem Lieblings-Chinesen kommen und tranken dazu einen leckeren Weißwein.

Ich war beschwipst und mutig, als ich zu John sagte: „Möchtest du sehen, was ich mir heute gekauft habe?”

Natürlich wollte er es eigentlich nicht, welcher Mann hat daran schon Interesse. Aber er war höflich und interessiert genug, mir mit einem leisen „Ja” zu antworten. Und genau dafür liebte ich ihn.

Er lehnte sich zurück und vermutlich erwartete er eine lange, ermüdende Modenschau.

Ich schmunzelte und zog mich um. Als ich wieder ins Wohnzimmer kam trug ich nur noch den roten Büstenhalter, der gerade eben so meine Brustwarzen bedeckte und den dazu passenden Stringtanga, dazu schwarze High Heels.

Meinem Onkel fiel die Kinnlade herunter. „Du hast dir Unterwäsche gekauft?”

„Ja, für uns”, sagte ich leise.

„Was heißt für uns?” fragte er mit trockener Stimme.

„Überleg mal”, sagte ich und setzte mich auf seinen Schoß. Unsere Gesichter näherten sich.

„Dann heißt das…”

Wieder nickte ich. „Ja, ich will, John. Ich will mit dir schlafen, mit dir Sex haben, will, dass du mich zur Frau machst. Ich will dir gehören. Dasselbe, was du für mich immer schon gefühlt hast, fühle ich auch für dich.”

Mein erwachsener Onkel sah aus wie in Kind, das man zu Weihnachten glücklich gemacht hatte. Wir küssten und umarmten uns.

Wir gingen zusammen in sein Schlafzimmer mit dem Doppelbett, wo er mich andächtig auszog. Anschließend bedeckte er meine Brüste und meine Nippel mit tausenden von Küssen.

Ich zog ihn aus, dirigierte ihn aufs Bett und hockte mich zwischen seine Beine. Mit dem Lutschen eines Schwanzes kenne ich mich ja ganz gut aus, dachte ich und begann Johns Schwanz erst zu wichsen und dann in den Mund zu nehmen.

Er reagierte wie ein typischer şişli escort bayan Mann. Schnell wuchs sein Pimmel in meinem Mund und er legte mir die Hand auf den Kopf und begann mich sanft zu steuern. Sein Schwanz war größer als der von Ben und ich hatte einige Mühe ihn im Mund zu behalten, zumal er ihn behutsam immer tiefer in meinen Mund schob.

Als ich zum ersten Mal würgen musste, zog er mich hoch und legte mich aufs Bett. Dann dirigierte er sich in 69’er-Position auf mich und erwartungsvoll öffnete ich meine Schenkel, während er erneut seinen Schwanz an meine Lippen legte.

Es war wundervoll, seine Zunge und seine Finger an und in meiner Fotze zu spüren und gleichzeitig an seinem festen Stück Fleisch zu saugen.

Seine Finger und seine Zunge machten mich verrückt und in mir baute sich schnell eine starke Erregung auf. Mein Körper zitterte schon vor Lust auf, als ich bemerkte, dass auch der Schwanz meines Onkels zu zucken begann. Würde es bei ihm so sein wie bei Ben und den anderen?

Während sich also die Lustwellen in mir ausbreiteten schmeckte ich die einzelnen salzigen Vorboten, dann kam es wie ein Sturzbach aus seinem Schwanz und er füllte meinen Mund so schnell mit seinem Saft, dass mir einiges an den Lippen herauslief, bevor ich alles herunterschlucken konnte.

Er schmeckte anders als Ben, irgendwo zwischen salzig und nussig.

Erschöpft rollte ich mich von ihm herunter und er legte sich in Löffelchenstellung hinter mich und nahm mich beschützend in die Arme.

„Ich liebe dich”, flüsterte er mir ins Ohr und ich wusste, dass er recht hatte, er liebte mich wirklich.

Ich griff hinter mich und spürte, wie sein Schwanz unter meiner Hand wieder anfing zu wachsen.

„Bitte mach mich zur Frau!” flüsterte ich. In diesem Moment machte sein Schwanz einen Satz und wurde steinhart.

Ich drehte mich aus seinem Arm heraus und auf den Rücken. Er nahm meine Fesseln und drückte sie hoch. „Leg deine Knie neben deine Brüste, mein Liebling.”

Ich sah noch, wie er sich zwischen meine extrem gespreizten Schenkel hockte und seine Eichel an meine Spalte dirigierte. Dann lächelte er und fragte: „Bereit?”

Ich nickte stumm mit dem Kopf. Als die Eichel in mich eindrang war es noch so, also würde ich einen Tampon einführen. Doch der Schwanz war viel dicker und drückte mit sanfter Gewalt immer tiefer.

Plötzlich blieb er stecken und mit einem kleinen Ruck presste ihn Onkel John in mich. Es gab einen kurzen Schmerz, dann fühlte ich mich so ausgefüllt, wie niemals zuvor. Ein Gefühl, das ich heute absolut fantastisch finde, war damals einfach nur neu und irgendwie merkwürdig.

Sein Schwanz berührte die Wände meiner Vagina und je tiefer er geschoben wurde, desto mehr meinte ich „gestopft” zu werden. Als er endlich ganz drin war, verharrte John einige Sekunden und begann dann ganz behutsam mit minimalen Stößen.

Sein Kopf näherte sich meinem und wir küssten uns, während er mich ganz ausfüllte. Unsere Zungen lieferten sich eine kleine Schlacht, bis seine Stöße immer heftiger wurden und mir den Atem raubten.

Meine Erregung schoss nach oben wie eine Rakete und als ich zum ersten Mal kam und meinen Orgasmus herausbrüllte, schüttelte es mich so heftig durch, dass John Mühe hatte sich auf mir festzuhalten.

Doch er hörte nicht auf, sondern fickte immer weiter. Mal flacher, mal tiefer, mal schneller, mal langsamer. Er ließ sein Becken kreisen und gefühlt hatte er mich schon eine Stunde gefickt und ich war zu mindestens sechs Orgasmen gekommen, als er mir ins Ohr flüsterte, dass er gleich kommen würde.

Das war der Moment, auf den ich so sehnsüchtig gewartet hatte. Zu spüren, wie er in mir kam, mich ausfüllte mit seinem Saft. „Komm in mir”, sagte ich mit sanfter, bettelnder Stimme.

Ich hielt die Luft an und spürte, wie er sich so tief wie möglich in mich bohrte.

Dann röhrte er auf und mir wurde schwarz vor Augen, als ich es spürte. Seinen Saft, wie er heiß in meine Gebärmutter spülte. Ich kam und kam und kam. Ich konnte gar nicht mehr mitzählen, kam mit dem Atmen kaum noch hinterher.

Schwer lag er auf mir und hörte nicht auf zu stoßen, obwohl längst nichts mehr kam. Es war der bis dahin schönste Moment meines Lebens und ich ahnte, dass es nicht der letzte und schönste bleiben würde.

Epilog

Unaufhörlich verbrachten wir von da an die Nächte zusammen, manchmal fickten wir sogar tagsüber und er zeigte mir alles, was ich über Sex wissen musste. Das einzige was schade war, dass wir es immer heimlich machen mussten.

Hätte ich ihn nur heiraten können, ich hätte es getan, denn inzwischen liebte ich ihn mehr als mich selbst.

Irgendwann traf ich einen jungen Burschen namens Tom und für ihn spürte ich ähnliche Gefühle. Als John seinen Segen gab, war ich glücklich, heiratete Tom und wir zogen in eine eigene Wohnung.

Tom macht es mir gut und ich liebe es mit ihm zu ficken, doch keiner erzeugt so intensive und langanhaltende Orgasmen in mir wie mein Onkel John. Das ist der Grund warum ich immer noch heimlich mit ihm ficke und es tun werde bis zum Ende unserer Tage.

Wenn mein Tom zu seinem Lieblingsfußballverein geht, ist er für mehrere Stunden weg. Das sind die schönsten Stunden mit John. Wenn Tom’s Fußballverein siegt, haben wir sogar beide etwas davon.

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Carmen 17 – Abschied

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Asian

Carmen 17 – Abschied

Ich wurde wach, da ich unterbewusst mitbekam, dass eine Nachricht auf meinem Handy eingetroffen war. Verschlafen grabschte ich zu meinem Handy, das neben mir auf dem Nachtkästchen lag. Die Uhr am Display zeigte gerade kurz nach 8:00 Uhr an. Schlaftrunken entsperrte ich mein Handy und öffnete die Message. Sabrina, meine Chefin hatte mir geschrieben. Obwohl ich Urlaub hatte, machte ich die Nachricht auf.

„Es war schön gestern, Mama wartet heute um 13:00 Uhr im Büro auf dich. “Dahinter waren Herzchen angefügt und ein Bild. Auf dem Bild war eine barbusige Frau zu sehen. Ich wollte das Handy schon weglegen, als ich mit einem Schlag wach wurde. Ich machte das Handy nochmals auf, und sah mir die Nachricht an. Das Bild war unverkennbar. Es war Sabrina, die ein Selfie gemacht hatte, das ihr Gesicht zeigte und darunter ihre freigelegten Brüste. Ich las den Text nochmals. Diese Nachricht sollte definitiv nicht an mich gehen, sondern an ihren Sohn. Carmen und Christian, wahrscheinlich lagen unsere Namen in ihrem Adressbuch übereinander und sie hatte den falschen Kontakt gewählt. Plötzlich piepte mein Handy erneut und eine neue Nachricht tauchte auf. „Oh Nein, scheiße sorry war nicht für dich gedacht.” Nun hatte sie meine volle Aufmerksamkeit. Ich tippte zurück. „Kein Problem, lösche es einfach.”

Es kam zurück. „Das ist so peinlich!” Ich überlegte einen Moment, was ich zurück tippen sollte. Dabei blickte ich auf die Seite zu meinem Sohn, der friedlich und zufrieden auf dem Rücken schlief. Seine rechte Hand lag auf seinem Bauch und sein Ehering stach hervor. Ich blickte auf meinen und lächelte. Wir hatten es tatsächlich getan. Wieder piepte es. Ich schaltete mein Handy auf lautlos, damit Dominik nicht aufwachte, setzte mich im Bett auf und las die neue Nachricht. „Es tut mir leid, das sollte nicht an dich gehen.” Ich tippte zurück. „Habe ich vermutete, nachdem ich deine Nachricht gelesen hatte.” Sie tippte zurück. „Können wir am Montag reden, ich will es erklären.” Ich schrieb zurück: „Klar, auf die Erklärung bin ich gespannt.” Dahinter hängte ich einen grinsenden Smiley. „Es ist nicht so wie es aussieht.”, bekam ich direkt zurück. Ganz offen schrieb ich zurück. „Doch ist es, und ich weiß es.” Nun bekam ich nur Fragezeichen zurück. Ich tippte: „War am Freitag nochmal in der Firma, da sah es genauso aus.” Sabrina hatte die Nachricht sofort gelesen, aber auf eine Antwort musste ich warten. Deswegen schrieb ich nochmals. „Ich bin die Letzte, die darüber urteilen darf. Das ist allein Eure Sache.”

Nun kam postwendend eine Antwort zurück. Diesmal erhielt ich drei Fragezeichen. Ich überlegte einen Augenblick und entschied mich dann, die Karten offen auf den Tisch zu legen. Ich vertraute Sabrina und sie mir. Ich lehnte mich etwas zurück, hob das Handy und machte ein Selfie. Dann schaute ich es mir an. Perfekt. Man sah mein Gesicht und eine nackte Brust, sowie Dominiks Gesicht, der noch immer neben mir schlief. Ohne Kommentar schickte ich ihr das Bild. Nachdem ich gesehen hatte, dass sie das Bild gesehen haben musste, löschte ich es wieder. Sie tippte. „Verrückt!” Sie kannte Dominik vom Sehen, daher war ihr klar, was ich ihr damit sagen wollte. Ich schrieb zurück. „Mehr als das, aber das bereden wir, wenn ich wieder in der Firma bin.” Dann sah ich, dass sie ihr Bild löschte. Von ihr kam zurück. „Frühstück geht auf mich.” Grinsend schrieb ich zurück. „Sektfrühstück?” Sie schrieb: „Weiß nicht, ob man das feiern sollte.”

„Das nicht aber vielleicht etwas anderes!” Dahinter setzte ich viele Smiley mit Herzchen in den Augen. Dann schickte ich noch einen Satz. „Sehen uns Montag und viel Spaß später.” Es kam nur noch ein „OK” zurück. Dann legte ich das Handy auf die Seite und sah meinen Mann an. Er schien glücklich zu sein. Ein leichtes Lächeln lag auf seinem Gesicht. Ich schüttelte den Kopf und kroch vorsichtig und leise aus dem Bett. Leise schlich ich ins Bad und schloss die Tür hinter mir. Ich musste pinkeln. Als ich fertig war, stellte ich mich vor den Spiegel und mir sprang sofort der überdimensionale Knutschfleck ins Auge. Da hatte er wirklich ganze Arbeit geleistet. Trotzdem lächelte ich. Mir war egal, was andere darüber denken würden, dies war ein Beweis unserer leidenschaftlichen Hochzeitsnacht. Nun stellte ich fest das ich noch immer meine Strapse und den dazugehörigen Halter von der Nacht trug. Kurzentschlossen zog ich sie mir aus. Dann ging ich ins Zimmer und lehnte mich gegen den Türrahmen. Unser Zimmer sah wüst aus. Unsere Hochzeitsklamotten lagen kreuz und quer im Zimmer verteilt. Es sah so aus, als hätten wir uns nicht ausgezogen, sondern uns die Kleidung vom Körper gesprengt. Zwei leere Sektflaschen waren im Raum verteilt.

Dann wanderte mein Blick wieder zu Junior, der noch immer den Schlaf der Gerechten schlief. Es war schön, ihn anzusehen, wie er nackt, auf dem Rücken mit leicht gespreizten Beinen lag. Sein Glied lag schlaff auf der Innenseite seines Schenkels. Kurz ließ ich unsere Nacht Revue passieren, wobei ich mir über meine Lippen leckte. Wie er mich erst auf dem Tisch escort taksim genommen hatte, wir danach das Tabu brachen und er mich zum ersten Mal in den Arsch fickte, die absolut erotische Dusche und wie er mich dann ziemlich nur mit Zunge und Fingern heftig kommen ließ. Ich liebte den Sex mit ihm. Dann schob ich mich vom Türrahmen weg, warf meine Dessous auf einen Stuhl und stieg ganz langsam und vorsichtig zwischen die Beine meines Sohnes auf das Bett. Ich wollte ich zärtlich wecken. Und mir war auch schon klar, wie.

Ich stütze mich seitlich mit meinen Armen neben ihm ab und liebkoste die Innenseiten seiner Schenkel. Ich achtete darauf, ob er in irgendeiner Weise darauf reagierte. Aber er schien weiter zu schlafen. Sachte küsste ich seinen schlaffen Schwanz immer wieder auf und ab. Dann stülpte ich meine Lippen vorsichtig über die Eichel und sog sie sanft in mich. Nur ein kleines Stück, bevor ich anfing, meine Zunge zwischen seine Vorhaut zu schieben und ihm lüstern über seine Nille leckte. Das war der Punkt, als der kleine Mann zum Leben erwachte. Ich spürte ihn erst leicht zucken. Ich sog ein Stückchen mehr ein und begann seine Eichel zwischen meinem Gaumen und meiner Zunge zu kneten und zu lutschen. Junior bewegte sich leicht und seufzte auf. „Mmhhhhh.” Nun fing sein Penis an, sich aufzurichten. Genau, dass, was ich beabsichtigt hatte. Zentimeter für Zentimeter verleibte ich mir seine Rute etwas mehr ein. Mittlerweile zuckte sie schon deutlich heftiger. Mit einer Hand fuhr ich an seine Eier und massierte diese zärtlich. Ich spielte mit ihnen wie mit Murmeln in meiner Hand. Dominik stöhnte auf. Ich blickte nach oben, doch er schien noch immer zu schlafen, auch wenn er zusehends unruhiger wurde. Von den Eiern fuhr ich zu seinem Schaft, den ich leicht wichste. Dabei ließ ich seine Eichel immer wieder aus meinem Mund gleiten, um sie danach wieder in mich aufzusaugen.

Plötzlich spürte ich Dominiks Hände an meinem Kopf. Verschlafen aber erregt sagte er: „Mmmhhhh, was wird das Traumfrau?” Ich entließ seinen Ständer kurz aus meinem Mund und flüsterte. „Ich wünsche dem kleinen Freund da unten nur gerade einen guten Morgen.”, schon stülpte ich meine Lippen wieder über seinen Stab. „Ahhhh … und dein Mann wird nicht begrüßt?” Mit seinem Schwanz in meinem Mund nuschelte ich „Später.” Nun war der Bursche richtig stramm. Ich wollte nicht mit ihm spielen, sondern ihn kommen lassen und fing an, in tief zu saugen und auszulutschen. Ich wollte ihm einen schnellen Blowjob verpassen, bevor er richtig wach war. Flink wanderte mein Kopf auf und ab. Dominiks Hände lagen auf meinem Kopf, ohne tätig zu sein. Dominik stöhnte „Oughhhh, fuck kannst du blasen. Da wird der morgen gleich doppelt so schön … ahhhh.” Ich unterstützte meine Mundarbeit damit, dass ich wieder seine Eier bearbeitete. Ich merkte, dass er kam, als er sich versteifte. Er schob mir sein Becken entgegen und als er tief in mir steckte, feuerte er sein Sperma ab.

Ich war nicht überrascht, dass es bei weitem nicht so viel war, wie ich es von ihm kannte, aber die letzten Tage und vor allem die vorangegangene Nacht waren doch sehr anstrengend für ihn. Ich wartete ab, bis sein Schwanz aufhörte zu zucken. Langsam zog ich meine Lippen von seinem Glied und sah zu Junior hoch, der mich strahlend anlächelte. Er keuchte. „So kannst du mich öfter wecken.” Ich krabbelte wortlos zu ihm nach oben und drückte ihm meine Lippen auf seine. Sofort drückte er mir seine Zunge entgegen. Wir öffneten beide unsere Münder und dann schob ich ihm sein Sperma in den Mund. Der Kuss wurde leidenschaftlich und intensiv. Ohne Ekel tauschte die Flüssigkeit immer wieder den Besitzer, ehe wir sie runterschluckten. Dann hob ich meinen Kopf, öffnete meinen Mund, zeigte ihm, dass er leer war und sagte: „So kann der morgen immer beginnen. Dir auch einen wunderschönen Guten Morgen, mein Mann.” Dominik umarmte mich und drückte mich. „Das ist so unglaublich schön. Womit habe ich das verdient?”

Ich sah ihm tief in die Augen. „Ich war dir von gestern noch etwas schuldig.” Er grinste mich an und streichelte meinen Rücken bis zum Po hinab. Dann gab er mir einen kleinen Klapps drauf. „Du bist mir nichts schuldig, du hast mich geheiratet.” Leicht knetete er meinen Hintern, während ich der Länge nach auf ihm lag. „Das war purer Egoismus. So einen Mann wie dich darf man nicht mehr loslassen.” Wir küssten uns und schmusten einige Zeit miteinander. Dann machte er mich darauf aufmerksam, dass er ein dringendes Bedürfnis hätte. Als er nach kurzer Zeit wieder aus dem Bad kam, saß ich auf dem Bett. „Mama, guck mal kaputt.” Ich lachte. Sein Schwanz hing schlaff hinab. „Dummerchen, der ist nicht kaputt …”, sagte ich in kindlichen Ton. „… das ist die Tanknadel, die zeigt an das er leer ist.” Er lachte auf. „Und wie füllt man den Tank wieder auf?” Ich grinste. „Ich denke, zuerst braucht es dazu ein ausgedehntes Frühstück.” Dann blickte er in den Raum. „Wow, waren wir das gestern?”

Ich nickte. „Wenn du dich nicht an Besuch erinnerst, waren das wohl wir.” Ich stand auf und ging zu escort izmit ihm. Ich umarmte ihn. „Karin hat im Badezimmer etwas zum Anziehen für uns hergerichtet. Sie hat an alles gedacht, sogar an die Kulturbeutel.” Ich küsste ihn. „Komm lass uns anziehen und frühstücken, aufräumen tun wir später.”

Nachdem wir angezogen waren, schickte ich Sandra eine Nachricht. „Sind auf dem Weg zum Frühstück.” Es kam nur zurück. Bis gleich, ich bin schon da. Als wir ankamen, sahen wir Sandra gleich sitzen und Kaffee trinken. Als wir bei ihr waren, stand sie auf und wollte mich umarmen. Sie stutzte. „Carmen, was ist da denn passiert.” Sie hatte meinen überdimensionalen Knutschfleck entdeckt. Ich grinste. „Das muss dir mein Mann erklären, der ist dafür verantwortlich.” Sie verstand sofort und blickte Dominik an. „War ein Unfall …”, sagte er beschämt. „… ich wollte sie Küsschen und bin abgerutscht.” Sandra lachte laut auf, so dass sich alle zu uns umdrehten.

„Sandra, bei dem Ausmaß und der Heftigkeit hast du von dem die nächsten zwei Wochen was.” Ich lachte. „Besser als ein Brandzeichen, war deutlich weniger schmerzhaft.” Wir umarmten uns kurz und besorgten uns dann Kaffee und etwas zu Essen. Als wir uns gesetzt hatten, merkte ich, welche Frage ihr auf der Zunge lag, sie aber nicht stellen wollte. „Es war perfekt … sagen wir fast perfekt.” Sie schüttelte den Kopf. „Warum nur fast perfekt?” Ich lachte sie an. „Der junge Mann hat mich ausgeknockt.” „Autsch.”, war ihre Reaktion. „Nicht so.”, antwortete ich schnell. Sie grinste. „Oh, wie dann?” „Ich genieße und schweige.”, war meine lapidare Antwort. Damit war ihr vermutlich alles klar. „Und wie ist euer Tagesplan?”, fragte sie uns. Dominik sah mich an und meinte: „Ich glaube so ein Strandtag zum Relaxen, wäre jetzt genau das Richtige.” Ich nickte zustimmend. „Bin dafür.” Sandra lächelte. „Gut, ich habe nämlich schon Liegen für uns reserviert.” Dann genossen wir unser Frühstück und den dazu gehörigen Kaffee.

Danach nahmen wir Sandra mit in unsere Hochzeitssuite, packten alles Wesentliche zusammen und gingen in unser neues Urlaubszuhause, um uns etwas für den Strand anzuziehen. Dabei erzählten wir ihr, dass wir am Abend noch eine Verabredung hatten und sie den Abend ab 21 Uhr allein verbringen musste. Nachdem wir uns umgezogen hatten, war Sandra verändert. Relativ ruhig liefen wir zum Strand. Dabei fiel mir auf, dass nicht wenige mich anlächelten. Ich vermute mal, dass dies an dem überdimensionalen Knutschfleck lag, den ich keineswegs verdeckte. Es gab sogar drei Gäste, die uns zu unserer Hochzeit gratulierten. Sandra war einfach weiter zum Strand gelaufen, während wir uns noch mit den Leuten unterhielten. Ich merkte, dass etwas nicht stimmte. Als wir unsere Liegen bezogen hatten, ging ich zu Sandra und fragte direkt: „Was ist los? Ist es wegen heute Abend.” Sie schüttelte den Kopf. „Nee, ist nichts.”, gab sie kurz zurück. „Das Nichts schlägt dir aber ziemlich aufs Gemüt.”, fügte ich hinzu.

„Nein, das muss eben warten. Ihr habt nur noch zwei Tage Urlaub.” Ich blickte zu Dominik, der das mitbekommen hatte, und er nickte mir stillschweigend zu. Ich griff nach Sandras Hand und zog sie von der Liege. „Ich kann nicht in der Sonne liegen, wenn ich weiß, dass es dir nicht gut geht.”, sagte ich zu ihr. „Komm mit.” Dominik wusste sofort, als wir in Richtung Meer gingen, wo wir hinwollten. Er blieb aber auf der Liege. Im Meer war einiges los. Wir spazierten die Landzunge entlang, bis wir die meisten Leute hinter uns gelassen hatten. „Was ist los?”, fragte ich sie ganz direkt. Sie drehte sich zu mir und fragte: „Egal, was ich dir erzähle, du wirst mit Dominik drüber reden, oder?” Ich nickte ihr zu. „Er ist der Mann an meiner Seite, natürlich werde ich mit ihm darüber reden. Ich habe versprochen, keine Geheimnisse mehr.” Sie blickte mich an. „Gut, dann sollten wir ihn mitnehmen, ich denke, es wäre wichtig das er auch dabei ist.” Ich sah sie verwundert an. Dann drehte ich mich, um und versuchte Dominik zu winken, dass er zu uns kommen sollte.

Es dauerte nicht lange, bis er verstand, und sich auf den Weg zu uns machte. Wir liefen derweil weiter und schwammen das letzte Stück zu unserer kleinen Insel. Etwa 20 Minuten später saßen wir als Dominik zu uns Steiß. „Was gibt es?”, wollte er sofort wissen. „Nachdem ich Sandra sagte, dass ich es dir sowieso erzählen würde, dachte sie, du solltest gleich dabei sein.” Beide sahen wir sie an. Sie brauchte etwas Zeit, bevor sie sprach. „Wie ihr wisst, wollte ich niemals hierherkommen. Bis ich euch beide hier erlebt habe, habe ich das Ganze für eine Schnapsidee gehalten. Ich habe die Einladung von Dominik nur angenommen, weil ich wegkonnte. Weg von zu Hause.” Sandra fing zu weinen an und ich nahm sie in den Arm. „So schlimm?” Sie konnte nur nicken. „Schlimmer! Robert ist seit der Trennung, der totale Kontrollfreak, will immer sofort wissen, wo ich war und was ich gemacht habe. Seit du weg bist Carmen, ist es eskaliert. Er wird körperlich und grapscht an mir rum und meinte, das wäre ich ihm schuldig escort kağıthane und ich könne froh sein das er noch mit mir vögeln wolle.”

„Ich will gar nicht dran denken, was passiert, wenn wir zurückkommen. Er wird vermutlich ausrasten. Ich halte das nicht mehr aus.” Ich hatte einen dicken Kloß im Hals. Dann sprach sie weiter. „Das Problem ist, das ich meinen Anteil fürs Haus erst nach der Scheidung bekomme, dann muss er mich auszahlen. Ohne den kann ich mir aber eine Wohnung nicht leisten.” Ich stutzte. „Ich dachte er hat sich eine jüngere gesucht. Das hast du mir zumindest kurz vorm Urlaub erzählt.” Sandra lachte herablassend auf: „Der und eine andere? Der kriegt doch nur einmal im Monat einen hoch. Außerdem ist er nur am Arbeiten. Das hat er mir nur erzählt, um mich eifersüchtig zu machen.” „Und hat er es geschafft.”, fragte ich nach. Vehement schüttelte sie den Kopf. „Mit dem bin ich fertig.” Wir saßen all eine Zeit lang still da und überlegten, wie wir Sandra helfen konnten. Plötzlich war es Dominik, der bis dahin geschwiegen hatte, der sagte. „Warum zieht Sandra nicht einfach vorübergehend zu uns?” Wir sahen ihn fassungslos an, als Sandra meinte: „Kommt nicht in Frage, ihr müsst selbst zu Hause erstmal mit der Situation klarkommen. Und ich will doch nicht stören.” Ich war vollkommen verblüfft über Juniors Vorschlag.

Ich sah ihn fragend an. „Na der Keller ist voll ausgebaut, hat sogar eine kleine Küche. Die Couch wollten wir eh schon lange entsorgen, da kann sie ihr Bett reinstellen. Und sie kann rein und raus durch den Seiteneingang zum Keller.” Seine Argumente waren schlüssig, doch Sandra sagte: „Ich will nicht das 5. Rad am Wagen sein. Ich denke ihr braucht die Zeit erstmal für Euch.” Ich erwiderte. „Dominik hat recht, da unten wäre Platz für dich, bis du das Geld bekommst und du dir deine Wohnung suchen kannst.” Sandra antwortete: „Ich weiß nicht.” Dominik ergriff die Möglichkeit. „Gut, wenn du einen besseren Vorschlag hast, ich bin ganz Ohr.” Sie sah uns beide an. „Ihr meint das ernst, oder?” Ich sah sie an. „Haben Dominik und ich geheiratet? Genauso ernst meinen wir das Angebot.” Bevor Sandra noch zum Grübeln beginnen konnte, schoss Dominik wieder vor. „Warum den Typen noch länger ertragen, du kommst nach der Heimreise gleich zu uns. Und etwas später können wir ja deine Sachen holen.”

Sandra versuchte immer noch, uns das auszureden. „Ich habe einiges an Möbeln, Klamotten und Grimskram. Das krieg ich in dem Keller nie unter.” Ich nahm ihr sofort den Wind aus den Segeln. „Ich rede mit Sabrina, da finden wir bei uns im Lager sicher einen Platz zum Unterstellen.” Sandra schüttelte ungläubig ihren Kopf. „Ich bräuchte aber dringend Klamotten.” Dominik antwortete: „Dann macht das Taxi einen Umweg und wir begleiten dich, damit er nichts machen kann. Und für die Übersiedlung finde ich sicher ein bis zwei Kumpels, die uns helfen.” Sandra brach in Tränen aus. „Ihr seid echt verrückt.” Ich hielt Sandra in meinem Arm und blickte zu Dominik. Ich warf ihm einen Kussmund zu und sagte ohne Ton „Danke” zu ihm. Er nickte mir still zu. Instinktiv spürte er, dass er nun überflüssig war, und verzog sich leise in Richtung Strand. Ich blieb mit ihr sitzen. Als sie sich beruhigt hatte und aufsah, fragte sie. „Wo ist er hin?” Ich lächelte.

„Er ist der perfekte Mann und dachte sich, wir bräuchten etwas Zeit für uns.” „Kannst du den Klonen und mir einen abgeben?”, sagte sie. Ich lachte. „Sorry das ist ein Unikat, und das gehört mir.” Sie wischte sich die Tränen aus dem Gesicht. „Ich weiß nicht, was ich sagen soll?” Ich streichelte ihren Kopf. „Ich würde jetzt gerne die ganze Geschichte hören, wo Junior nicht mehr da ist.” „Wirklich?”, fragte sie zurück. Ich sagte: „Mensch Sandra, wir haben keine Geheimnisse voreinander, mach es dir selbst nicht so schwer. Ich will dir nur helfen.” Sie nickte und fing an, mir zu erzählen, was sich so alles ereignet hatte und letztendlich zur Scheidung führte. Sandra erzählte mir, dass ihr Sexleben förmlich einschlief und ihr bald Ex maximal einmal im Monat über sie stieg und nach 5 Minuten fertig war. Irgendwann fing sie an, dann anderweitig Spaß zu suchen. Sie hatte wohl immer wieder versucht, mehr Pep in ihr Eheleben zu bringen. Allerdings ohne Erfolg. Irgendwann habe es ihr gereicht und sie habe ihm gesagt, dass sie fremdging und die Scheidung wolle.

Ihr Ex fiel aus allen Wolken und meinte, das Sexleben wäre doch OK. Darauf lachte sie ihn wohl aus. Er schob dann alles auf die viele Arbeit. Doch Sandra hatte genug und reichte kurz darauf die Scheidung ein. Und je näher es auf das Datum zuging, desto abgedrehter wurde er. Sie sprach auch ganz offen aus, dass sie ihm auch zutrauen würde, sie zu vergewaltigen. Wir redeten fast zwei Stunden und mir wurde mit jedem ihrer Sätze klar, was sie gerade durchstand. Auch erklärte es, warum sie auf meine Liaison mit Dominik, so heftig reagierte. Als sie mir ihr Herz ausgeschüttet hatte und ich nochmals betonte, dass sie bei uns einziehen konnte, hellte sich ihr Gemüt auf. „Ich weiß nicht, wie ich Euch danken kann.”, umarmte sie mich, als wir aufgestanden waren. Ich versuchte, die Situation aufzulockern und sagte. „Also Junior steht total auf dein Tiramisu.” Absichtlich vermied ich es, eine sexuelle Anspielung zu machen. „Also wenn er beim Umzug hilft, kann er die wöchentlich haben.”, lächelte sie.

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Die Reha-Schlampe – Teil 08

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Ass

Die Reha-Schlampe – Kapitel 8

1. Der nächste Morgen

Ich werde von lautem Stöhnen und dem Wackeln des Bettes wach. Schlaftrunken mache ich die Augen auf. Neben mir liegt Aiko, die gerade von Meister Kurt durchgefickt wird.

„Hallo Schlampe. Auch schon wach?”, keucht der Meister und stösst völlig ungeniert weiter in Aikos Fickloch. Als die Japanerin bemerkt, dass ich ansprechbar bin schaut sie mich mit ihren braunen Augen an, dann nimmt sie meine Hand und führt sie an ihre Titten. Ihre Nippel sind hart. Es erregt mich sofort, den beiden zuzusehen, daher beginne ich meine schnell nass werdende Fotze zu reiben.

„Verpiss dich, Nutte. Deine Fotze stinkt, das ist ja kaum auszuhalten. Geh dich erstmal duschen. Und so verbraucht wie du aussiehst will ich dich auch nicht hier im Bett haben.”

Ich atme tief ein und tatsächlich, ein ziemlich übler Geruch nach durchgefickter Fotze penetriert meine Nase. Enttäuscht richte ich mich auf und schlurfe ins Bad. Ein Blick in den Spiegel gibt meinem Meister Recht. Verschmierte Schminke, müde Augen, wirres Haar… und überall Spermareste an meinem Körper. Ich rieche an meinen Achseln. Puh, das stinkt. Mundgeruch habe ich auch. Während Meister Kurt sich drüben im Schlafzimmer weiter mit Aiko vergnügt setze ich mich erstmal aufs Klo und pisse. Auch der Darm wird entleert. Dann stelle ich mich unter die Dusche und spüle auch meinen Hintereingang dabei aus. Danach trockne ich mich ab, putze mir die Zähne, kümmere mich um meine Frisur und mache mich mit Schminke und Parfüm wieder einigermaßen ansehnlich und riechbar.

Meister Kurt ist inzwischen mit der Japanerin fertig und sitzt am Küchentisch, während Aiko das Frühstück zubereitet. Micha ist schon auf der Arbeit. Nackt wie ich bin geselle ich mich zu ihnen. Aiko stellt unaufgefordert eine Tasse Kaffee für mich auf den Tisch. Ich mache mir eine Zigarette an und trinke das heisse Gebräu. Es ist herrlich, zuhause ganz ungezwungen und nackt zu sein. Ich mustere Aiko und finde einige Spermareste auf ihrem schlanken Körper. Sie bemerkt meinen Blick und reibt mit ihren Fingern über die bespritzten Stellen. Im Gegensatz zu mir sieht sie jetzt benutzt aus, aber ich gehe darüber hinweg. Wenn der Meister mich sauber und sie schmutzig haben will, dann ist das eben so. Ich stelle das nicht in Frage, sondern schmiere mir ein Brötchen mit Marmelade.

„Ach Nutte. Ich habe über dein Geständnis mit Lukas nachgedacht. Du warst ja schon früh ein durchtriebenes Biest. Wie ist es danach weitergegangen? Es ist ja leider nicht dazu gekommen, dass dein Bruder dich entjungfert hat. Wer war das denn dann?”

Ich kaue und antworte meinem Meister.

„Das war Micha.”

„Was? Du willst mir ernsthaft erzählen, dass du nie einen anderen Schwanz außer seinem hattest, bis du mich kennengelernt hast?”

„Ja, Meister.”

„Was für eine Verschwendung. Gab es denn jemand, der sich zwischendurch mal für dich interessiert hat, Schlampe?”

„Ja. Kevin. Da war er aber schon mit Lydia zusammen. Deshalb habe ich ihn abblitzen lassen.”

„Kevin wollte dich? Interessant, interessant.Wie lange ist das her?”

„Noch nicht so lange. Vielleicht 2 Jahre?”

„Wunderbar. Das eröffnet uns einige Möglichkeiten. Siehst du es auch, Hure? Kannst du es sehen?”

Ja, ich kann es sehen. Unsere kleine Familie könnte bald Zuwachs bekommen. Die unterfickte, depressive Lydia und ihr beinahe untreuer Ehemann, der damals schon mit mir fremdgehen wollte. Wer weiss, ob er Ly nicht schon mit anderen Frauen betrogen hat.

„Ja, Meister. Ich sehe es.”

„Gut. Wir machen Folgendes. Du bringst deine Schwester dazu, sich von mir ficken zu lassen. Und du zeigst ihrem Mann Kevin, dass er dich haben kann wenn er es noch will. Du sorgst dafür, dass er es noch will. Hast du verstanden, Fotze?”

„Ja, Meister. Ich werde Lydia gleich anrufen und ein Treffen mit ihr vereinbaren. Vielleicht habe ich ja Glück und sehe dabei auch Kevin.”

„Gut. Also erstmal die beiden. Lydia möglichst schnell, am besten jetzt. Lukas kannst du dann heute Nachmittag treffen und um die anderen kümmern wir uns später. Je mehr mit im Boot sind desto leichter wird es sein, den Rest zu überzeugen.”

Wir frühstücken fertig und rauchen noch eine Kippe zusammen. Meister Kurt stellt eine Flasche Wodka auf den Tisch, die nicht unberührt bleibt. Während Aiko den Tisch abräumt steht der Meister auf.

„Komm mit, Fotze. Ich muss pissen.”

„Ja Meister”, antworte ich und folge ihm ins Bad.

„Steig in die Wanne, Hure.”

Ich klettere in die Wanne und der Meister richtet seinen Strahl auf mich. Das warme Nass fühlt sich wunderbar auf der Haut an. Er zielt auf mein Gesicht und ich öffne meinen Mund, um seinen Urin in mir aufzunehmen. Es läuft aber auch Einiges über meine Haare und dann am Hals und den Titten entlang. All die schöne Mühe, mich für ihn vorher zurecht zu machen…

Als er fertig ist, schüttelt der Meister sich ab und hält mir seinen feuchten Schwanz hin, damit ich ihn noch sauber lecken und anschliessend bayrampaşa escort bayan blasen kann. Aus der Küche ist geschäftiges Klappern zu hören. Aiko räumt wohl den Geschirrspüler ein.

Leider werde ich anschliessend nicht gefickt. Meister Kurt ergiesst sich in meinen Mund, dann lässt er mich allein im Bad zurück. Ich dusche mich noch einmal und folge ihm dann ins Wohnzimmer. Er sitzt an seinem Notebook und würdigt mich keines Blickes. Aiko hat sich eine Putzfrau-Uniform angezogen und räumt die Wohnung auf. Also schnappe ich mir mein Handy und rufe Lydia an. Während ich darauf warte, dass meine Schwester rangeht betrachte ich den nackten Arsch der zierlichen Japanerin, die sich gerade über das Sofa beugt, es von Verunreinigungen befreit und anschliessend die Kissen richtet.

„Hallo? Sylvie?”, geht Lydia endlich ran.

„Ja, hi. Ich bins. Ich dachte, ich melde mich mal bei dir. Wie gehts?”

„Ach Sylvie. Immer das Gleiche, du kennst das doch. Und bei dir?”

„Mir gehts super. Die Reha war echt klasse. Ich hab ne Menge über mich gelernt und versuche, das jetzt auch anzuwenden. Sag mal, wollen wir uns nicht mal treffen? Wir haben uns ja lange nicht mehr gesehen und ich hab dir soviel zu erzählen.”

„Von mir aus”, antwortet Lydia ein wenig gleichgültig.

„Wann hast du denn Zeit?”

„Ich hab noch was im Haushalt zu erledigen. Heute nachmittag?”

„Das klingt gut, Schwesterherz. Kommst du vorbei?”

„Kannst du nicht kommen? Ich weiss nicht, wann ich fertig bin.”

Ich schaue meinen Meister an, der das Gespräch aufmerksam verfolgt. Er nickt.

„Okay, dann mach ich mich gleich auf den Weg. Wenn du noch nicht fertig bist, kann ich dir ja was helfen, dann haben wir mehr Zeit zum Reden.”

„Okay. Bis dann.”

„Bis dann.”

Sie legt auf.

„Du dumme Fotze schaffst es nicht mal sie hierher zu lotsen. Das kostet uns einen ganzen Tag.”

„Tut mir leid, Meister. Ich hatte Angst, dass sie absagt, wenn ich zu sehr auf ihren Besuch bei uns beharrt hätte.”

„Du kennst deine Schwester besser als ich, also will ich dir das mal durchgehen lassen. Ruf noch deinen Bruder an und sorg dafür, dass ihr euch heute Nachmittag trefft. Dann schmeiss dich in deinen Nuttenfummel und fahr los.”

Ich nicke, gehe ins Schlafzimmer und suche mir ein paar Kleidungsstücke zusammen. Schwarze Nylons mit Strapsen, einen relativ kurzen Rock und eine Bluse. Dazu noch ein paar halbhohe Schuhe. Mehr nicht.

Dann rufe ich meinen Bruder an. Er ist auf der Arbeit. Das Gespräch verläuft ähnlich kurz wie das mit Lydia. Er sagt, dass er ab Vier zuhause sei und ich dann vorbei kommen könne.

Als ich mich verabschiede, ist der Meister im Schlafzimmer schon wieder mit seiner neuen japanischen Konkubine beschäftigt.

„Ich bin dann mal weg”, rufe ich aus der Tür. „Ich fahr zu…”

„Ja ja, machs gut. Ich verlass mich auf dich, Nutte.”

Ich beobachte noch ein paar Sekunden lang, wie Meister Kurts erigierter Schwanz Aikos süßes Fickloch penetriert. Sie hockt vor ihm und lässt sich von hinten in den Arsch ficken. Dabei stößt sie kleine spitze Schreie aus.

Ich schnappe mir noch eine Pulle Rotwein aus der Hausbar, dann verlasse ich das Haus. Der Meister registriert das kaum, zu sehr ist er mit unserer neuen Schlampe aus dem fernen Japan beschäftigt. Ich gehe zum Auto und nehme mit nacktem Hintern auf dem Fahrersitz Platz. Bevor ich losfahre werfe ich noch einen prüfenden Blick in den Rückspiegel. Mein Make-Up sitzt perfekt, meine Lippen sind rot geschminkt. Ich gefalle mir. Ich würde mich ficken, muss ich belustigt an ein berühmtes Filmzitat denken. Ich betätige die Zündung, lasse den ersten Gang kommen und fahre los, einem ungewissen, aber spannenden Tag entgegen.

2. Lydia

Während der Fahrt zu Lydia gebe ich mich gänzlich meinen Fantasien hin. Ich stelle mir vor, wie Meister Kurt meine Schwester fickt und es ihr richtig besorgt. Wie sie es anschliessend vom Meister und Herrn Akono gleichzeitig besorgt bekommt. Wie Susan und ich ihnen dabei zusehen und uns gegenseitig befriedigen. Wie Lydias Ehemann Kevin plötzlich in der Tür steht und beim Anblick seiner geilen durchgefickten Frau einen Ständer bekommt und über Susan und mich herfällt. Die Fahrt ist leider zu kurz, um all meine weiteren Fantasien intensiver durchzugehen. Zu schnell erreiche ich mein Ziel. Ich halte den Wagen vor dem Haus meiner Schwester und lasse den Motor aus. Meine heisse nackte Fotze hinterlässt auf dem Sitz einen ziemlich großen nassen Fleck. Ich mache mir nicht die Mühe, ihn wegzuwischen. Es erregt mich sehr, an allen möglichen Stellen meinen Fotzenschleim als Zeichen meiner immer offener zu Tage tretenden Geilheit zu hinterlassen.

Ich schnappe mir die Flasche Wein, steige aus und gehe zur Haustür. Dann richte ich mein Kleid, atme noch einmal tief durch und betätige die Klingel.

Nach ein paar Sekunden macht Lydia auf. Sie sieht verhärmt und äusserlich vernachlässigt aus. Ihre Haare hängen in wirren Strähnen herab. Sie ist bayan escort ungeschminkt und hat Ränder unter den Augen.

„Ach, hallo Sylvie. Da bist du ja.”

Es ist unfassbar, aber sie hat noch ein schluddrig wirkendes Nachthemd an.

Sie macht einen Schritt zur Seite, um mich einzulassen. Wir nehmen uns in den Arm. Ich nehme ihren etwas unangenehmen Körpergeruch wahr. Dann schliesst Lydia die Tür hinter mir. Auf dem Weg in die Küche bemerke ich die Unordentlichkeit, die in der Wohnung herrscht. Gebrauchtes Geschirr, Essensreste und schmutzige Wäsche auf dem Boden. Überall Staub. Schmutzige Fenster.

„Entschuldige Sylvie, ich bin noch nicht zum Aufräumen gekommen. Mir fällt im Moment alles so schwer…”

„Kein Problem, Ly.”

Ich bin innerlich erschrocken über den Zustand meiner Schwester, denn ich erkenne darin meine früheres Leben wieder. Als ich damals in meinen Spiegel guckte sah ich auch so fertig und desillusioniert aus wie Lydia jetzt. Ich versuche, daraus Mut zu fassen. Wenn ich es geschafft habe, mich aus dem tiefen Loch heraus zu bugsieren, dann kann es meine Schwester doch auch schaffen.

Unter allgemeinem Hallo und Blabla nehmen wir am Küchentisch Platz. Lydia fragt, ob ich was trinken möchte und ich hebe den Rotwein triumphierend in die Höhe.

Ich muss Lydia etwas überreden, mit mir anzustossen. Aber dann ist es soweit, wir prosten uns zu, labern weiter wie Schwestern es eben tun und ich sorge dafür, dass der Flascheninhalt kontinuierlich weiter sinkt.

Nach dem vierten oder Fünften gemeinsamen Schluck werden wir beide auf einmal gleichzeitig ruhig. Das Gespräch versandet und wir sehen uns einfach nur an. Die Augen meiner Schwester strahlen so viel Traurigkeit aus. Ich denke nicht mehr daran, dass ich versprochen hatte, ihr im Haushalt etwas zur Hand zu gehen. Es gibt Wichtigeres zu klären.

Ich spüre, dass der Augenblick gekommen ist, die Karten langsam auf den Tisch zu legen.

„Du. Lydia, ich…”, will ich sagen, doch meine Schwester kommt mir zuvor.

„Sylvie, du hast dich so positiv verändert”, bricht es plötzlich aus ihr hervor.

Damit gibt sie mir eine Steilvorlage.

„Ja, das kommt durch die Reha. Ich habe gelernt, dass ich mein Denken und Handeln verändern muss, wenn ich ein glücklicheres Leben führen will.”

Wow, Sylvie, sage ich zu mir. Das fasst es schon alles so gut zusammen, dass ich es nur noch mit Beispielen unterfüttern muss.

Lydia schaut mich mit ehrlichem Interesse an. Wir nehmen beide noch einen Schluck aus der Flasche.

„Erzähl.”

Ich spüre, dass ich Lydia am Haken habe. Ich weiss wie sie sich fühlt und ich weiss, wie ich sie aus diesem Sumpf befreien kann.

Ich hole tief Luft und taste mich weiter vor.

„Ich habe direkt in der Reha damit angefangen. Mich zu ändern, meine ich. Anders über die Dinge zu denken, die mich fertig machen. Ich…”

Wenn ich es jetzt ausspreche, lässt der sich dadurch in Gang setzende Zug sich durch nichts mehr aufhalten.

„Komm Sylvie, mach es nicht so spannend. Ich platze vor Neugier. Was ist passiert?”

Sie ist zwar depressiv aber nicht dumm, meine kleine Schwester. Sie ahnt es doch eh, also was soll es.

„Ich habe jemanden kennengelernt.”

So, jetzt ist es passiert. Lydia reisst ihre Augen weit auf und beugt sich zu mir vor.

„Nein. Und? Rede endlich, Schwesterherz. Lass dir nicht jedes Wort aus der Nase ziehen.”

Ich beschreibe ihr Kurt, wie ich ihn kennengelernt habe und welche Gedanken er in mir freigesetzt hat. Wie ich langsam geil auf ihn wurde. Wie der Seitensprung konkreter wurde. Jede Kleinigkeit berichte ich ihr. Wie er sich für mich interessiert hat. Wie ich mich zum ersten Mal seit langer Zeit wieder als Frau wahrgenommen fühlte. Wie er damit mein total gestörtes Selbstbewusstsein langsam und liebevoll wieder aufrichtete und es wachsen liess.

Lydia hängt gebannt an meinen Lippen. Ich berichte, wie Kurt und ich fickten. Lydia seufzt und ich unterbreche für einen Moment meine Schilderungen. Ich muss sie noch auf den Fick mit Ralf, Manni, Willi, Heinz und Thomas vorbereiten. Ob sie dann auch noch hingebungsvoll seufzt oder sich mit Ekel im Blick von mir abwendet und mir freundlich aber bestimmt den Weg zur Tür weist?

„Mir passiert so was nie”, sagt sie enttäuscht.

„Weil du es dir nicht zutraust”, gebe ich zurück.

Ich werde das ändern und beginne damit genau jetzt, denke ich mir.

„Es war damit noch nicht zu Ende, Ly.”

„Nein? Du hast… noch mehr erlebt? Was hast du noch getan? Und weiss dein Mann davon?”

„Über Micha reden wir später. Kurt, meine Bekanntschaft… er… er war nicht besitzergreifend wie die meisten anderen Männer. Er… er ist etwas Besonderes. Er hat sofort erkannt, was mit mir los war und was mir helfen würde, mich zu befreien. Er… er… er hat mich mit anderen Männern schlafen lassen.”

Was für eine Geburt. Gespannt auf Lydias Reaktion halte ich inne. Ihre Augen werden noch größer. Zuerst erkenne ich da… tatsächlich sowas bağcılar escort bayan wie Ekel, wenn nicht Ekel dann zumindest Ablehnung, doch dann öffnet sie wieder ihr Herz und sie lässt die Vorstellung ihrer fremdfickenden Schwester noch ein wenig verwirrt zu.

„Mit wem? Und wie?”, will sie neugierig wissen.

Ja, kleine Schwester, ich hab dich am Haken. An deiner eigenen Sensationslust gepackt, die dir in deinem langweiligen, unbefriedigendem Leben als Einziges geblieben ist. An genau dem gleichen Haken hing ich noch vor einigen Wochen ebenfalls und niemals hätte ich mir vorstellen können, ihn überhaupt als Haken wahrzunehmen, geschweige denn, mich davon zu befreien.

Also berichte ich ihr von Ralf, Manni, Willi, Heinz und Thomas. Wie wir zusammen mit Kurt Wahrheit oder Pflicht gespielt haben. Wie das Spiel mehr und mehr ausuferte und ich dabei immer geiler wurde. Wie ich… mich von allen 6 Männern durchficken liess. Wie geil ich mich dabei fühlte. Während ich das erzähle merke ich, wie sich meine nasse Fotze an dem Küchenstuhl reibt.

Und Ly? Sie… sie ist erregt, will es aber anscheinend nicht zugeben.

„Mit 6 Kerlen? Du spinnst. Das hast du doch nicht echt gemacht? Du willst mich verarschen, oder? Willst mich nur mit einer heissen Geschichte aufgeilen, oder?”

„Nein. Ich habe das wirklich getan. Und glaub mir, es war so großartig, so wundervoll. Die Jungs haben mich geliebt, mich als begehrenswerte Frau gesehen, ein Gefühl, dass ich in der Intensität noch nie im Leben gehabt habe. Es war so einzigartig, so… magisch.”

Lydia will weitere Einzelheiten wissen, die ich ihr gebe. Ich bemerke eine zunehmende Veränderung in Lydias Verhalten. Sie ist bestimmt nass, was ich aber durch ihr schlabbriges Nachthemd nicht genau sehen kann. Aber ihr ganzes Gehabe deutet klar darauf hin. Wie sie scheinbar unbewusst durch ihr strähniges Haar streicht. Wie sie mit der Hand über ihre Nippel fährt. Wie sie ihre Beine jetzt etwas öffnet und ihren Hintern langsam über den Stuhl hin und her bewegt. Reibung erzeugt.

„Ja, es war heiss, Schwesterherz. Ich nehme mir jetzt, was mir zusteht und ficke, wenn mir danach ist.”

Und das ist sehr oft, eigentlich fast immer, doch das sage ich meiner Schwester noch nicht. Zuerst…

„Micha weiss es”, sage ich abschliessend. „Und er hat es kapiert. Kurt hat mich nicht vergessen, sondern auch nach der Reha weiter Kontakt zu mir gehalten. Er hat mich weiter bestärkt, mein Ding zu machen, mich nicht abbringen zu lassen, nicht wieder in mein Loch zu fallen, gegen alle Kräfte anzukämpfen, die mich wieder dorthin stoßen wollen. Und.. Ly… Kurt… er ist seit ein paar Tagen bei uns zuhause!”

Plötzliches Schweigen. Ich kann meiner Schwerster ansehen, wie es in ihr arbeitet. Wie sie versucht, es sich vorzustellen. Bildlich vorzustellen. Ich nicke.

„Und er fickt mich, mit Michas Wissen und manchmal auch in dessen Anwesenheit.”

Lydia sagt dazu nichts, möglicherweise ist ihr die Vorstellung jetzt zu viel. Ich rede einfach weiter, gebe der Information erstmal wenig Raum, sich zu entfalten.

„Da ist noch etwas, das ich dir beichten muss, Ly. Ich… naja, ich hab in der Reha erkannt, dass ich submissiv bin.”

„Du bist was?”

„Unterwürfig, devot. Beim ficken. Bei allem was mit Erregung zu tun hat. Es macht mich geil, wenn ich dominant behandelt werde.”

Wenn man mich erniedrigt, demütigt, beschimpft und körperlich züchtigt. Doch das muss meine kleine Schwester jetzt noch nicht so genau wissen. Der Grundgedanke, das Grundgefühl, darauf kommt es zunächst an. Dieses Gefühl in meiner Schwester einfach mal schwingen zu lassen, die Vorstellung hinein implantieren.

„Das… irgendwie passt das zu dir, Sylvie.”

„Ja, und es passt auch zu dir, Ly. Sieh uns doch an. Noch vor ein paar Wochen war ich genauso drauf wie du. Hab mich devot weggeduckt, mich mit meinem unbedeutenden, unbefriedigenden Leben schon abgefunden. Und jetzt? Schau mich an.”

Ich genehmige mir nach der langen Rederei noch einen Schluck, dann reiche ich die Flasche meiner Schwester, die ebenfalls daraus trinkt.

„Du hast Recht, Sylvie. Du siehst toll aus. So perfekt gestylt. So gepflegt, super schön und sexy geschminkt. Dann deine scharfen Sachen. Du wirkst total selbstbewusst.”

„Das bin ich auch, Ly. Ich platze vor Selbstbewusstsein, so paradox das vielleicht auch klingen mag, wenn man meine devote Neigung und meine gestiegenes sexuelles Bedürfnis betrachtet. Aber ehrlich, ich fühle mich so befreit…”

Ich erzähle ihr, dass Kurt und ich ein Spiel spielen, dass er mein Meister ist und ich seine Nutte bin. Als ich das Wort Nutte ausspreche erkenne ich die Hürde, über die wir beide jetzt springen müssen. Sagen Sie mal so einfach Ihrer Schwester, dass Sie eine Nutte sind. Nicht viele geschwisterlichen Beziehungen würden an einem solchen Geständnis zerbrechen. Aber ich kenne Lydia, und ich habe sie langsam auf alles vorbereitet. Ihr Appetit gemacht. Und immer ein kleines Schüppchen neu drauf gelegt.

„Er bezeichnet dich als Nutte?”

„Ja. Lass den Gedanken zu, Ly. Stell dir vor, Kevin nimmt dich hart und dominant und feuert dich plötzlich richtig an. Nennt dich Schlampe, Nutte. Packt dich grob am Arsch und nudelt dich ordentlich durch. Stell es dir vor. Los. Stell es dir vor.”

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