Cabin Fever

My woman’s intuition told me something bad would result from this trip. Brent, my husband, suddenly developed this need to commune with nature. Brenda didn’t want to go. We had to practically drag her to the station wagon. Phil and Carl, however, my twin fourteen-year-old boys, were eager to get out into the remote wilderness. Brent found the cabin and made the plans. I went along like a good wife.

Once at the cabin, light years from anywhere, my anxiety grew. No phone, no electricity, and having no toilet didn’t help. We weren’t there thirty minutes when five armed men burst in on us. They pushed Brent before them, bound and gaged. My heart sank. I clutched my kids to me and we huddled in a corner. We watched helplessly as they shoved Brent into a chair and bound him in place.

After securing Brent, the leader approached us with a leering grin. The others crowded around, snickering and laughing. The man holding the pistol waved it casually while addressing me. He said, “Lady, this ain’t your day. You see, we are bad desperados, and it looks like we’ll be holed up here together for a few days.”

I pleaded, “Please don’t hurt anyone.”

“We don’t plan to, but then that all depends on you. We have to lay low for a few days. You see, we just robbed a bank. If everybody stays cool and cooperates, nobody gets hurt. You guys can go about your little vacation, and we’ll move on. I’ll just say this once, though. If any of you tries anything, sneaks off, or pisses us off, your old man gets a bullet right between the eyes, understand?”

I nodded. He shouted, “I’m talking to all of you.” We all nodded. “Now, you guys go sit on that couch and let us have a little meeting. No talking.”
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Bitch Whore         John waited until the house was quiet, then eased out of his sick bed and drew on a pair of thin PJ bottoms. His sisters had gone off to school and his mother had just left for work. With any luck, his sexy Aunt Joy would still be sipping coffee in her maddeningly brief terrycloth robe. With better luck, she’d be naked under that robe.

John eased down the stairs and saw her as he rounded the corner. He was in luck. He smiled weakly as she looked up, then took feeble steps toward the chair that might give him a good beaver shot. As he pulled the chair out to place it at a good viewing angle at the corner, Joy said, “You can stop the act, now, John. She’s gone.”

John plopped down in the seat and smiled. “How’d you know?”

“I’ve been around. I was married for twelve years to a man who had three boys. I raised all three through their teens. I know when I’m being stalked for seduction.”

John reacted with feigned shock, started to defend his motives, then smiled bashfully and said, “I guess I’m pretty obvious, huh?”

“I’ll give you credit. At least you came down with something on.”

“I guess you think I’m pretty pathetic, don’t you?”

“Pathetic? Hardly. I’m quite impressed. You’re very good. You have natural abilities. You know just how subtle to be, yet you get your message across loud and clear. Women like that in a seduction. We hate crude grabbers or foul-mouthed mashers, but we especially hate having to guess at a man’s intent. Any sixteen-year-old with twenty-four notches on his bedpost already knows that.”

“You know what those mean?”

“Of course I know. Your mother knows too.”

“MOM Knows?”

“Yes, and she brags about her stud son. She brags to me, anyway.”

“No kidding? Mom knows and she thinks it’s cool?”

“She wouldn’t let you keep carving up a three-hundred dollar headboard if she didn’t, now would she?”

“Wow! I wondered why she never said anything. Man, that is so weird. Mom knows, huh?”

“Yes, but we’re both curious. Do you make a notch each time you get laid, or each time you make a new score?”

“They each represent a new score. I don’t count the same girl twice. If I did that, there wouldn’t be any headboard left.”

“She’ll be thrilled by that news. I said you counted fresh kills; she was sure you were counting fucks.”

“Aunt Joy! I never thought I’d hear you say the ‘F’ word.”

“Can’t you say fuck? You came down here to fuck me, but you can’t bring yourself to say the word in front of me? You disappoint me, John.”
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 A Picture Worth Ten-Thousand Words

  Brenda had an obscene view of her father’s tight ass, large balls, and long cock as he sawed his cock lazily in four-inch stokes within the tight-lipped sheath of her thirteen-year-old daughter’s vagina. Carly’s thin white legs, bent sharply at the knees and splayed out to the sides, gave Brenda a view of her daughter she never thought she’d see, as well.

Brenda’s first impulse was to rush forward and drag her father off Carly. She could not understand what stopped her, or why she stayed rooted to the spot at the doorway, hiding, though neither could see her even if she were fully inside the room. Perhaps going four months without sex explained her inaction. Perhaps the sight of the largest, most masculine cock she’d ever seen fucking the cutest, most adorable pussy she’d ever seen, short circuited her motherly instincts. Only a flea riding on Tom’s balls would have a better view.

The vision was so shocking, yet so erotic, that a primitive part of her brain seemed in control. Her eyes had a direct line to her clit as she followed the obscene in and out motion.

Carly’s pleas of, “Please, Grandpa, don’t cum in me again,” and “Please don’t get me pregnant,” had no effect on Brenda. If anything those plaintive pleas helped lubricate her panties. Carly added, “Grandpa, I’ll suck you. I’ve been good. I don’t wear panties anymore like you want. I let Mom see my pussy. I touched her thigh high up on the inside, very close to her pussy. I’ll touch her pussy next time, I swear. Please, don’t cum in me.”

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     This is a true story

My wife Brenda is really sexy. Petite, 5′2″, 32B breasts with big nipples. She has very shapely legs and gorgeous green eyes.Her wide smile shows perfect teeth and red lipsticked lips.
Over the years we have experimented with toys and fantasy. She loves to dress in miniskirts, short dresses and 5″ spike heeled mules . She paints her toes and waxes her legs…she’s awesome!
I have always had an urge to see her with a dog, but never had the courage to tell her for fear of being told I was crazy, or worse, that I was perverted and she was going to leave me. I didn’t want to lose her…I am sure you can understand why.
Often times during lovemaking, we would talk dirty about her being fucked by big black cocks or being ravaged by a group of guys who covered her head to toe in cum…it was playful and naughty and got her off in huge way…me too! Occasionally, we would fantasize about her being with a big-titted woman who sat on Brenda’s face and squirted her come all over her pretty face. Never did I mention the dog fantasy, even though when she was on all fours, I imagined how hot it would be. Well…..
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