Chapter 1

Caution: This Incest Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Fa/Fa, Mult, Consensual, Romantic, NonConsensual, Reluctant, Mind Control, Incest, Cousins, Uncle, Niece, BDSM, MaleDom, FemaleDom, Humiliation, Gang Bang, Group Sex, Black Male, White Female, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Petting, Water Sports, Spitting, Exhibitionism,

Desc: Incest Sex Story: Chapter 1 - A young woman loses the ability to control her sexuality. This leads to a lot of mental conflict, and great deal of pleasure. It also leads to some major changes in her life. There is one rough sex scene in this story. But I don't go into a lot of detail and it is not a large part of the story. There is also one brief ws scene, just so we can really get to hate the guy we need to hate. To those people that have written to complain that I am mellowing, I know. I apologize. I'll work on it.

Unlike many of my friends in college I did not have my life all planned out. I didn't set goals. There was nothing that I had a burning desire to be. I just wanted to be happy and have a normal life. Like most women my age I was looking forward to finding the right man and falling love. I was sure that he was out there somewhere. We would meet, fall in love, have two kids and live happily ever after. Everything else was just the details. I'm not a detail person.

The lack of a plan was apparently not something that was holding me back. I graduated from college and fell into a great job working for a medium sized company in a major city just up the coast from the town where I grew up.

The company was owned by my mother's older brother. But I didn't get the job because he was my uncle. I didn't even tell him that I had applied for it until I was hired. And I certainly didn't tell anyone during the hiring process that he was my uncle. I got the job on my own merits.

Nor did I tell my parents about the job until I was hired. When I got the job and told my parents I was surprised at my mother's reaction. I knew that she and her brother were not close. But when she found out I was going to work for his company she tried very hard to get me to withdraw my application and go somewhere else. She wouldn't say why. But it wasn't until that moment that I realized just how much bad blood there was between her and her brother. Despite my mother's attempts to dissuade me I was determined. Jobs for recent college graduates were at a premium. The job I had landed was too good to turn down.

I found a small apartment and settled in. My friends and I visited the city several times over the last few years of college. I had become familiar with the subway system and thankfully had no need for a car. I knew where the museums and libraries were located and the city has a large, beautiful park with plenty of room to run or enjoy nice long walk. It's even reasonably safe for a young woman to visit alone in the evening.

Over the last few months I slowly began to adjust to life in the city. Coming from a small town I was in the habit of smiling and saying hello to the people I met on the street. One of the hardest adjustments I had to make was adopting the city dweller's aloof behavior in public places. I still couldn't get over how quiet those subway cars could be during rush hour. All those people crammed together in those small boxes and not a word being spoken!

But I was adjusting. I had learned to carry a book to read so that my gaze wouldn't accidently meet someone else's while looking around the subway car. I noticed that most people either read a book or newspaper, listened to an iPod, or sent and received text messages on their phones, or some combination of those three activities.

Now I was living in a city with millions of people and I was terribly lonely. I didn't even notice it at first. With the excitement of learning a new job and living in a new city it was months before it really began to sink in. I don't have a boyfriend and the company I now work for has a strict non-fraternization policy. Like most sane women I don't like to go out alone in the evening and I have been so busy that I haven't yet met any women my age to go out with.

I wanted to make new friends. But even when I finally did I wasn't able to spend a lot of time with them. We seemed to have different interests. I wasn't a big fan of the club scene. It isn't that I don't like to dance and have fun. I do, very much. But I actually don't care much for anyplace that is so loud you can't carry on a conversation and where the air is blue with cigarette smoke.

So far I only had one friend I could talk to. A fifteen year old boy! Craig and his father moved into the apartment across the hall from me only a week after I moved into my apartment. I met them in the hall when they were moving in. They seemed nice so I invited them to join me in the evening for a light supper.

We got along well and I often saw Craig around the apartment pool or in the hallway and we would talk. He began to make friends with kids his age, though, and I started seeing less and less of him.

Now I was just coasting through life, waiting for the next thing to happen. When it did it was not something I could have anticipated.

Before I try to explain what it was that I did I should tell you a little about myself. I just turned twenty-one. I am a little taller than average, five foot seven inches. I am very slender. I weigh only a hundred and fifteen pounds, give or take a couple of pounds. I have shoulder length red hair. My bra is a healthy B cup. I don't go to a gym or exercise regularly but I walk a lot and I am in pretty good shape.

As for my sex life, well, obviously I don't have one at the moment. But I think I have a normal libido. I enjoy sex. I like to be touched and kissed. The look in a lover's eyes when he touches me or undresses me sends shivers down my spine. But I don't see that look very often and it has been a while.

I will admit, though, that especially in the last couple of months I have been unusually and increasingly preoccupied with thoughts of sex. Lately the sexual frustration has been building to peak that I have never experienced before. And the fantasies! I have started to experience some of the most unusual and ... well, embarrassing fantasies. I have no idea from what dark part of my subconscious those strange fantasies sprang.

I want to stress that I am not promiscuous. I have been with only four boys, including Danny Taylor. We were each other's first in the eleventh grade. I don't think that is a large number, especially compared to many of the girls I knew in college.

For the first few months since moving to the city I was so busy learning my new job that I honestly didn't have time to give very much thought to a relationship and sex. Now that my life is more settled it sometimes seems like that's all that I think about. In fact, I don't believe there was ever a time in my life that I had been so preoccupied with sex.

Lately I have been masturbating every night, sometimes for more than an hour. I have been masturbating for years. But two or three times a week. Not every night! It wasn't just the frequency that concerned me, though. Lately my fantasies have been more and more ... I hate to say it, kinky.

In the past I would fantasize about having hot sex with some cute guy. But lately the things that went through my mind when I was holding my vibrator pressed tight against my vulva and quivering through one orgasm after another were the kinds of things that used to offend me. I began to picture myself doing things, or having things done to me, that were demeaning to women, things that have always offended me in the past.

I was concerned enough when the fantasies started. But tonight I did something that still shocks me as I think about it, shocks and excites me. I was sitting on the subway on the way home from work this evening. I looked up from my book and noticed an older man sitting several seats away. Our seats were facing one another. The train had made several stops as it got farther away from the center of the city and had begun to empty out. But there were still so many people in the car that some were standing near the doors.

The man I noticed was staring at my knees as if he was trying to look up my skirt. I was wearing a simple black skirt that came to about three inches above my knee when I stood up. It was certainly not immodest and I was completely covered. I was sitting with both feet on the floor and my knees together and I knew that he couldn't see anything but my knees.

But I did something then that I had never in my life done before. In response to a sudden and irresistible compulsion I slowly spread my legs open so that he could look up my skirt! I don't mean that I splayed them wide open. My knees were about eight inches apart. But I knew that it was far enough to give him a peek at what he was trying so hard to see.

I glanced around discretely. No one else seemed to notice. But the man who was staring at my knees noticed. I saw his eyes open wide and his expression changed instantly. In an instant I could almost feel his eyes on the crotch of my pantyhose.

The poor old guy couldn't see anything but opaque nylon and a little patch of white cloth. But the thrill that shot through me knowing that I was exposing my undergarments to a complete stranger in public actually caused me to experience an orgasm!

I couldn't believe it! This was totally out of character for me. And even after I had an orgasm I left my knees the way they were and let that old man stare at my crotch until we finally reached my stop.

When the subway doors opened I got to my feet and almost ran up the stairs to the street. I rushed down the street to my apartment as if I was afraid that I was being followed. I wasn't. I know because I checked several times to make sure.

In my apartment I didn't even take the time to undress. As soon as I locked the door behind me I ran to my bedroom. I pulled my skirt up to my waist and reached for my vibrator. It was sitting on my nightstand, still plugged in. I used it so often now that I left it plugged in and handy. I turned it on and pressed it against my throbbing pussy without even taking the time to remove my pantyhose and panties. I came again, instantly, picturing in my mind what that man on the subway must have seen and imagining what he must have thought of me.

And still I didn't stop. I continued to masturbate for at least another half hour until I couldn't stand it any longer.

As I lay there having orgasm after orgasm I continued to imagine that man's eyes trying to focus on my pussy. But my mind didn't leave it at that. In my mind's eye I could see what that old man saw. But I didn't stop with exposing my well covered crotch. In my mind I saw myself standing up in front of all of the people on that crowded train and slowly taking all of my clothes off until I was standing naked on a subway car, surrounded by forty or fifty strangers. The men all stared at me with lust written all over their faces. The women all looked at me in disgust. And even that turned me on!

My masturbation orgy ended before my mind could carry my perverted thoughts through to their natural conclusion and I could be attacked by the men on the train.

I finally thumbed off the vibrator and lay panting on my bed. My entire body felt like it was still vibrating. It was a long time before I finally sat up and began to get out of my work clothes. As I sat on the side of my bed recovering from that long series of orgasms I could smell my juices. My underwear was soaking wet.

I was shocked at what I had just done. It was not the first time that I had imagined myself doing something like that lately. But I didn't know where these strange sexual thoughts were coming from. They were just not who I was! And now! I had actually carried out one of my fantasies, though in a milder form. I had purposefully spread my legs so that a complete stranger could look up my skirt!

What the hell was going on in my mind?!

I finally stood up and got undressed. My underwear was wet enough to wring out! I went to the bathroom and tossed my clothes in the hamper. I washed my still tingling pussy with a damp cloth. Then I returned to my bedroom and put on a t-shirt and a pair of lounging shorts.

I went out to my small kitchen and sat down with a glass of ice water to pull myself together. I was starting to wonder if I had some sort of weird medical problem. It had been a long time since I had made love to a man. But that wasn't so unusual in my life. Where in the hell had all of these strange fantasies come from all of a sudden?! I had never before even contemplated exposing myself to strangers.

And that wasn't the worst of it. I had other fantasies now. Kinky fantasies that made what I had done in the subway on the way home seem like nothing. I had begun to fantasize about all sorts of kinky things, like having sex with total strangers.

Please note the plural. I have begun to imagine myself being taken by more than one man at a time. Being taken was the key phrase. I imagined being taken by one or more primitive, strong, self absorbed men without regard for me or my feelings or desires. I could picture myself as a sex slave. Thoughts of bondage began to work their way into my fantasies. These were things I had never even imagined before!

These were not mental images that I was finding on the internet. I didn't go to those kinds of sites. I didn't read books or see movies about that sort of thing. I cannot begin to imagine where these thoughts were coming from.

I can't deny that I was finding the mental images exciting. But that was one of the reasons that I was scared. I didn't want to be the kind of girl that had those kinds of strange desires, much less someone who acted on them.

For the next half hour or so I tried to think of something in my life that could have spawned these strange fantasies. There was nothing! And there was no one in my life with whom I could talk about this.

It was time for supper. I wasn't hungry but I had to eat something. I made myself a small salad and tried to force myself to think about something else ... something wholesome. Results were mixed. I was able to think of other things. But my mind kept wandering back to thoughts of sex and mental images of me exposing myself to strange men.

I went to bed early. I selected the clothing I was going to wear to work the next day and hung it on the back of my closet door. Then I read for a while which finally seemed to distract me from thoughts of kinky sex. It wasn't even nine o'clock when I finally turned on the little machine beside my bed that soothed me to sleep with the soft sound of surf lapping at the shore and turned my light out.

That little sound machine was worth its weight in gold. I have had trouble falling asleep since I was a young girl. I never seemed to be able to shut my mind off long enough to fall asleep. One day, shortly after they moved in, I mentioned it to Craig, my new friend across the hall. He offered to let me try out the sleep machine that his mother had used to help her sleep. She left Craig's father over a year ago and they had divorced soon after. The white noise machine was one of the things she left behind.

That little machine was a miracle. It worked from day one. I went to bed that first night with the surprisingly restful sounds of the surf playing quietly and slept better than I ever had before.

For the next several months that little machine continued to work its magic. I have been sleeping like a baby for the first time since I was actually a baby. I wake up more refreshed and with more energy and than ever before in my life.

I couldn't help wondering if the increased energy I was enjoying might not be responsible for my increased libido. Then I had to wonder if my increased libido was responsible for the strange fantasies I was experiencing. And now I had to wonder if that might explain my incomprehensible behavior on the train this evening.

I fell asleep with those thoughts swirling around in my brain. I suppose that is why I experienced so many vivid sexual dreams that night. Once more I slept like a baby. But when I awoke the next morning I was nearly feverish from the lusty dreams that had occupied my mind during the night.

I awoke and reviewed the dreams I experienced and thought to myself, "Jesus! I need a man! I need to get fucked!"

It was seven o'clock in the morning and I was so horny I could scream! What the hell was wrong with me?!

I was shocked when I removed the underwear I wore to bed. They were just as soaked with my juices as the ones that I wore home from work yesterday! Once more I began to question my mental health.

I went to the bathroom and took a quick shower. I dried and brushed my hair and made myself ready for work. Then I returned to my bedroom to get dressed. I went to my dresser to select my underwear for the day. I bought all of my underwear from places like Victoria's Secret. I bought and wore sexy underwear even when no one was going to see it. It made me feel good about myself to know what I was wearing under my clothing.

But today I couldn't help myself. I selected a sexy thong, a matching bra that was little more than decorative lace, and the one pair of thigh high hose I owned. I knew what was in the back of my mind when I selected those hose. I was thinking about what I had done on the way home from work yesterday evening.

I stood in front of my mirror and stepped into my little thong. I pulled it up my legs and turned to appreciate how sexy I looked in the mirror. The little patch of lacy material just barely covered my tightly trimmed patch of red pubic hair. But the color of the hair still showed through.

I sat on my bed and pulled the thigh highs on. There was a three inch gap of bare thigh above the band of lace around the top of the hose.

I stood in front of my mirror again and I felt so strange. I will admit to being fascinated by the changes in my body when I went through puberty. I think that all girls are.

But I can't remember ever looking at myself in the mirror like this and being so impressed with my own body and my sexuality. What was more disturbing was that I realized that looking at myself partially nude was having an effect on me like it never had before. In the back of my mind I was imagining what that old man on the train last night would think if he saw me like this, or the other fifty people that were on that subway car last night.

I ran my hands lightly over my breasts for a moment before picking up my bra and pulling it on. The closure was between the cups. I prefer that style. I fastened the sides together and then looked at the tips where my pink nipples showed plainly through the lace. I don't think I've ever looked sexier. And except when I returned to my apartment from the subway last night I know that I've never been as horny, certainly not when I was all alone in my bedroom and watching myself dress for work.

I finally stopped staring at myself and put on the light summer dress I had selected to wear today. I thought that I looked very attractive. For just a moment I was tempted to change into a skirt and a light blouse so that my bra would be more visible. But as soon as the thought crossed my mind I shook my head and took a deep breath. I was turning into a frustrated sex maniac!

I prepared a light lunch, grabbed a bottle of water and headed for the subway. With each step I took I found myself becoming even more aroused as I relived in my mind my first mild attempt at exhibitionism. I am positive that there was not a single thought in my mind that I would repeat my actions, especially now that I wasn't wearing pantyhose. But I was becoming more aroused because I was returning to the scene of my crime.

I made my way below ground and waited for my train with all the other commuters heading into the heart of the business district. My train arrived and I joined the press of bodies politely making our way onto the crowded cars. Whether I had planned to flirt with the idea of exposing myself again or not there was no way it was going to happen this morning. There wasn't even a seat available.

I stood near the door with male bodies pressing against me and imagined how much more exciting it would be if I was naked. Knowing full well that such thoughts were alien to me, I nevertheless found myself so highly aroused as I imagined such an unlikely scenario that I found myself pressing up against the well dressed businessman in front of me and I continued to do so, even after he looked at me as if to ask if I were doing so on purpose.

I blushed furiously. But I continued to press my lower body against the stranger as if it was all beyond my control. I suppose in a way it was. The strange thing about it was that he wasn't very attractive. I wasn't attracted to him in the least. That was one of the strange things about my unusual behavior. I still had no idea what had come over me and why I was suddenly behaving like a bitch in heat.

I was actually relieved when the train got to my stop before I reached orgasm, because I didn't think for a moment that I was going to be able to keep it to myself. We arrived at my stop and as soon as the doors opened I shot out onto the platform and almost ran to the stairs.

I struggled to regain my composure before I reached my office. Judging by the concerned looks I received from some of my co-workers when I arrived I was not all that successful. I put my purse in my desk and went to the break room for a cup of coffee. I stopped in the ladies room on the way and made sure I was presentable. I looked a bit flushed, as if I had been running. I didn't look like a female sex fiend that had all but raped some poor man on the subway.

I returned to my desk with my coffee and sat staring down unseeing at the papers in front of me. What I had done on the way to work this morning was not as bad as what I had done last night. That man could not have known that I was not being forced up against him by the press of bodies around me. But I knew.

It took me a long time. But I finally started working. I had a hell of a time forcing myself to focus and it didn't get any easier as the day progressed. I continued to flashback on my behavior on the subway and noticed that I was no longer as shocked by what I had done. The shock was wearing off and the mental and physical stimulation were growing.

I sat at my desk through lunch and ate my sandwich and an orange. I stared off into space and thought about my strange behavior and decided once again that I very much needed to get laid. That had to be the reason for my unexplainable behavior. That was a problem for me. I have never made love to a man with whom I did not already have a relationship.

Despite my sexual assault of that poor, innocent businessman on the subway this morning, there was just no way that I could allow myself to be intimate with a strange man, some man I had just met. And there was no one I knew in this city that I could start a relationship with. The only three males I knew that were not fellow employees in my office were my Uncle Wayne, the owner of the company that now employed me, and Craig and his father Ian, my neighbors. And I had only met my uncle on just a very few occasions. He was pretty much a stranger to me.

By the time I got off work my sexual fever had begun to subside. I won't try to tell you that I was back to normal. But as I stood waiting for the train to take me home I felt like I was under control.

My usual train arrived and I got on and found a seat immediately. For those of you who do not ride the subway, I have noticed something about the people that ride them every day. They tend to take the same train at the same time every day and depending on the crowds, they often ride in the same car.

As soon as I sat down I reached into my purse and pulled out my book. I turned to the page I had marked and started to read. I fully intended to ignore every other person on the train that evening. But I just couldn't keep my eyes from glancing up for a second. And when I did I saw the man I had flashed on the way home yesterday. He was staring anxiously at my knees, obviously hoping for an encore presentation.

Even as I told myself that I was going to behave myself this evening I felt my knees begin to slowly separate and the excitement I felt was truly palpable. I was actually having trouble drawing a breath!

I watched over the top of my book as the man licked his lips and stared intently. I saw his excitement mount as more and more of my legs went on display.

I glanced around at the other passengers and unlike yesterday my little show was being observed by another man as well. As far as I could tell, though, it was just the three of us. The other passengers were oblivious, reading or staring off into space.

My skirt was slightly shorter today. And without really intending to I spread my legs a bit farther than I did yesterday. Or at least I think that it was unintentional. I saw the excitement on the faces of both men and I knew that if they looked up from my crotch they would see that same expression on my face.

I glanced down, trying to judge how much they could see. As my legs separated my skirt rode up my thighs and there was no question in my mind that both men could see the tiny patch of material that just barely covered my vulva. And they had to know that it was intentional. No decent woman sits the way I was sitting on a public subway car without intending to put herself on display.

The older man who had caught my first show yesterday looked up suddenly and smiled at me. My face was already as red as it could get. I quickly looked down at my book. I couldn't even see the words. But I couldn't look that man in the eye.

Our eyes had met, though. He knew beyond a shadow of a doubt now that I was intentionally displaying my underwear for him and now for another man as well. What I still couldn't understand was why, now that I had been caught, I was still sitting with my legs spread like a tramp.

I didn't move, though. I sat there with my sexy underwear exposed, my heart beating so loud I could hardly hear the sound of the subway's wheels counting a regular cadence on the rails as we raced toward my stop. I felt my sex quivering as if I was holding my vibrator against it.

I was aware of my kinky fantasies taking over again. The fantasy I had last night of standing up and undressing in front of all these people was different this evening. Now I imagined the two men who were staring lustfully at my exposed underwear coming over and pulling me to my feet. I almost groaned out loud as I pictured them undressing me while I stood helplessly and allowed it to happen.

But of course that didn't happen. Instead, we arrived at my stop and I ran from the car again. I rushed up the stairs and then stood back to make sure that I wasn't followed.

I stood in a recessed doorway, terrified that someone had witnessed my exposure on the train and might decide to follow me home. Yet at the same time I imagined some big strong man coming up those stairs, grabbing me by the arm, and ordering me to take him to my apartment so that he could rape me. And at that moment I think that I would have done it!

I wasn't sure that I wasn't disappointed when no one followed me. I drew a few deep breaths and forced myself to calm down. Then I turned and walked as quickly as I could to my apartment.

I was rushing to my bedroom, anxious to wrap my thighs around my cold, hard vibrator in lieu of the real thing when there was a knock on my door. My first instinct was to ignore it. But after knocking again I heard Ian from next door say, "Kari. It's me, Ian. Can I talk to you for a moment?"

I was so desperate to strip down and satisfy that burning itch between my thighs that I almost screamed in frustration. But I turned and walked back to the door, determined to get rid of Ian quickly.

I opened the door and somehow Ian ended up standing inside my apartment. I didn't close the door. I was anxious to get rid of him.

I saw the way he was looking at me. It was as if he could read my mind. I saw him trying to suppress a grin as he stared into my eyes.

I knew Ian pretty well. We entertained each other for dinner from time to time. But it was strictly a platonic relationship. We were just friends. Neither of us had even hinted that we would be interested in anything beyond a good meal and friendly conversation. And anyway, he was much too old for me. His son was closer to my age than he was.

But now, I sensed a sexual tension between us. Or maybe it was just that my mind was clouded by my own need for sexual satisfaction.

I finally regained my power of speech. I tried to sound calm when I asked, "What can I do for you, Ian? I just got home and I'm anxious to get out of these clothes and have a drink."

I watched his eyes scan my body in a suggestive manner. He had never looked at me like that before and suddenly I realized that something had changed between us and I didn't know what or why.

Ian was a nice guy. I liked him. But he was not someone I would ever want to date, or anything else of a personal nature. I certainly had no desire to have sex with him. Even as horny as I was at this moment I couldn't imagine having sex with Ian.

It wasn't that he was unattractive. He didn't have movie star looks. He was someone that might be described as ruggedly handsome. He was about six feet tall and probably weighed about a hundred and seventy-five pounds. He was in his late thirties, much too old for me. He had dark hair that was just starting to gray around the temples.

I suppose that if I was ten or fifteen years older I could go for him.

Ian smiled disarmingly and said, "Craig tells me he loaned you my ex wife's white noise machine. Have you been using it? Does it help?"

I wanted to scream at him to leave. I desperately needed to go to my bedroom and rape my vibrator. I didn't know why this conversation was so urgent that it had to take place now. But I attempted to control my impatience. I answered, "Yes, Ian. I have been using it and it works like a charm. I haven't slept this well since I was a baby. Thank you. Why? Do you need it back?"

He smiled and replied, "No. You are more than welcome to use it."

I sighed with relief. I would have hated to give it up.

He continued, "But I need to take a look at it. I'll take it back to my place and check it out. I want to check the wiring. I had to replace the power cord on it and I just want to make sure it's safe."

Great! I can give it to him and he will leave and I can get down to business. I smiled, hoping he wouldn't notice how strained my smile was. I said, "I'll get it for you, Ian."

I turned and hurried down the short hallway to my bedroom. I didn't even realize he was following me until I bent down and reached between my nightstand and the wall to unplug the damned thing!

I looked up to see him watching me as I unplugged the white noise machine. I saw him staring at my nightstand and I realized without looking that he was looking at the vibrator resting there where I always left it now, in plain view.

I nearly died of embarrassment when he moved closer. He smiled and picked my vibrator up. He looked at it. He sniffed it and his smile grew. Then he said, "Sweet little Kari. You don't need this! All you had to do was come over and knock on my door, day or night. I didn't realize how desperate you were."

There was a smirk in his voice that I'd never heard before. I should have been furious. But for some reason I wasn't. It was as if I suddenly saw the logic of his words. I nearly slapped my forehead and said, "Of course! What was I thinking?!"

But I didn't. I stood there. I was unable to speak, unable to move.

He put his hands on my shoulders and gently turned me to face him. He reached down and removed the power cord from my unfeeling fingers and let it fall to the floor. He quietly said, "I'll take that with me when I leave. But don't worry. I'll bring it back tonight before you go to bed. I know how you can come to depend on something like that when you have trouble sleeping."

Without another word, without a kiss or a caress, with absolutely no warning he reached out and began to calmly unbutton the front of my dress. I gasped in shock. But I didn't move. And I didn't protest.

I felt the blush suffuse my face and neck. But my only reaction was to swallow loudly and then moan helplessly as he slowly worked his fingers down the front of my dress, unbuttoning one button after another as if we did this all the time.

He exhibited total confidence. He knew without a doubt that I was going to permit this! My mind was spinning out of control. How did he know? I know that I had never given him any indication that I would submit like this. I've never flirted with him. I've never even said anything while kidding around that might be misinterpreted.

But he knew! Somehow he knew that I would permit this!

HOW?! How could he possibly know?! Hell! I didn't know that I would permit him to follow me into my bedroom and undress me!

And why was I permitting this? I didn't want this! Well, I can't deny that I was horny. I wanted to make love to a man. But I wanted to make love to a man with whom I had a relationship, a man I loved. Not a man with whom I was casually acquainted!

And yet there I stood, mute and inexplicably helpless while my next door neighbor removed my dress. For just a second my mind flashed back to the fantasy I had experienced on the subway. I remembered how excited I became imagining my two man audience pulling me to my feet and undressing me while everyone else in our car watched.

A shiver of excitement ran through me. I wasn't certain if the excitement was a result of flashing back to the fantasy or was it because my next door neighbor had followed me into my bedroom and began to casually undress me as if I belonged to him?

It had been a long time since anyone had seen me naked. Being naked in front of someone of the opposite sex was exciting enough, especially when it happened as rarely as it happened to me. But under these unusual circumstances I suddenly found that although this was contrary to every concept I held dear about my own sexuality, I was incredibly aroused.

I won't go so far as to say that I wanted this to happen. But I can't deny that although I was too embarrassed to even speak, I was as turned on as I had ever been in my life. I don't know why. But if he had stopped and apologized and started to leave I think I would have tackled him!

He unbuttoned my dress down to my waist and slowly spread the sides open. He gazed with obvious approval at my lacy bra. I heard a noise from somewhere deep inside of him and I knew that he was reacting to what he could see of me with only my almost transparent bra covering my breasts. The bra was only there for decoration. I didn't need the support. I could see in his eyes that I had chosen well. He obviously approved.

He slid my dress down off my shoulders and down my arms. His hands moved to my breasts. He held them gently and I gasped when I felt the heat of his hands envelop them. It had been so long! Damn that felt good!

His hands held my breasts lightly for a moment before lightly caressing them. I closed my eyes and struggled to keep my shaking legs under me.

I cried out when I felt his warm lips wrap around my left nipple. His hot breath sent shock waves through me as it seemed to course through my body and clamp down on my swollen clit.

A moment ago I wanted him to go away and leave me alone. Now I wanted to scream at him to quit fucking around. I wanted him to strip me ... to fuck me! I needed him to take me and use me.

This wasn't exactly the fantasy I had on the subway. But it was close enough.

He teased my breasts for a little while longer. By the time he finally reached for the catch between my breasts I was panting with lust. I was desperate for him to stop toying with me and get on with it.

I opened my eyes for a moment and looked into his eyes. I saw the arrogance. I belonged to him now and he knew it. He was dragging this out on purpose. He was tormenting me for the pure pleasure that it brought him!

In that moment when our eyes met he made it clear to me without saying a word that I belonged to him now. I didn't know about later. I couldn't think that far ahead. I couldn't think at all!

His fingers easily unfastened the clasp on my bra. There was no immature fumbling. He touched it and it fell away, releasing and baring my breasts. And then it was gone.

His hands returned to my swollen, sensitive breasts and this time they touched my flesh directly. My hands came up and grabbed his forearms. But not to stop him. I had no desire to stop him now. I only wanted to support myself. I was nearly unable to stand.

But I wasn't the only one that was getting impatient. He finally pushed my dress down over my hips and let it fall to the floor at my feet. He grinned when he saw my thong and my thigh high hose. But he didn't waste a lot of time looking. He quickly pushed my thong down and let it fall to the floor with my dress. He must have liked my hose because he left them right where they were.

His hand gripped my right wrist and placed my hand on the bulge in the front of his slacks. I gave voice to my lust, crying out wordlessly as my fingers attempted to hold his hard cock. It felt huge!

He smiled at me and said, "It's been a long time for both of us, Kari. I'm going to fuck you like you have never been fucked before."

He took me into his arms and held me tight. His hands gripped the cheeks of my ass and he pulled me tight against his body, lifting me right up off of the floor. His lips closed on my neck and he bit me, hard! Not hard enough to break the skin. But it hurt. And when he did that I had my first orgasm!

I pressed my body against that large, throbbing bulge in his pants and sobbed, "Please, Ian! Please!"

He ground his hard cock against me for a moment and then he sat me down on the edge of my bed. He stood in front of me and pulled my head down until his cock was right in my face. He was still wearing the suit pants that he had worn to the office today. The pleated front was loose and the material was thin. I felt his hot sex organ throbbing against my cheek. I turned my face and began to kiss it while he started unbuttoning his shirt. I kept my lips on his cock and reached up to unfasten his belt.

I moved my face away only long enough to pull his zipper down. Then I placed my lips against the head of his cock through his tight, white jockey shorts and started kissing it slavishly.

Ian's shirt had disappeared. He pushed my head away and I looked up with a new appreciation at his slender body. He was not large and bulging with muscles. But he was toned and in very good shape. He quickly pushed his pants and his shorts down, toed his shoes off and pulled his legs free, all in only seconds.

He straightened up and I got my first good look at his hard cock. I was very impressed! It was not huge. It wasn't a big monster cock that was going to tear me up. But it was at least seven inches long and it was fatter than the other four cocks I had experienced. It was just a nice, clean, masculine, and very virile looking cock.

He pulled my head back down and I welcomed it between my lips eagerly. I was not that experienced when it came to oral sex. I actually wasn't that experienced when it came to any kind of sex. But with my first two boyfriends I had absolutely refused to let them put their cocks in my mouth.

My third boyfriend finally talked me into trying it. He must have liked it. It seemed like only seconds before he was filling my mouth with hot slime and I was choking and gagging and pushing against his stomach, trying to get free.

It had been a very bad experience, for both of us. I really made a mess of him when I spit that white slime up all over him. The son of a bitch didn't even warn me!

My fourth boyfriend was a more intuitive and more intelligent lover. He didn't push me into anything. He was very good at providing me with pleasure with his lips and his tongue and eventually I felt the desire to return the favor.

He took his time with me. I told him about my one previous experience and he was very understanding. He promised never to cum in my mouth. Not unless I wanted him to.

I thought that was strange. I appreciated it. But why on earth would I ever want a boy to cum in my mouth?!

We slowly worked it into our love life. He would eat my pussy, often for extended and very exciting periods of time. Then I would suck on his cock until he warned me that he was going to cum. At that point I would move up beside him and we would finish making love, usually in the missionary position.

He seemed satisfied and I avoided having that nasty stuff in my mouth.

But one day we did things differently. We tried a sixty-nine for the first time. I found that sucking his cock while he was teasing my pussy was much more exciting. And that was what he was doing, too. He was teasing me. He brought me close time after time. But he didn't let me cum. Every time I was just about to cum he would stop what he was doing and let my orgasm subside.

I ended up feeling very much like I did when I got home from my subway ride this afternoon, desperate for an orgasm. I was turned on like never before. We kept that up for a very long, very exciting time and when he finally warned me that he was going to cum I groaned and wrapped my arms around his ass. I held him still and gobbled his cock as if I knew what the hell I was doing.

He cried out once more, warning me that he couldn't hold back. I moaned around his cock and that was the last straw. He began to fill my mouth with a huge load of cum.

I gagged a little at first. But I remained in place with my lips wrapped around his cock and I moaned over and over as he came like never before. I won't lie and tell you that I suddenly loved the taste. I didn't. It was terrible. But I held it all in my mouth until he gently pulled his cock free. I held his cum in my mouth until I got used to the strong, bleachy taste. Then I swallowed, deciding that it was a very exciting thing to do, even if the end result left something to be desired.

After that day I gradually became comfortable with the feminine art of cocksucking. We didn't do it every time we made love. But we did it with increasing frequency and I found that the more I did and the better I became at it the more exciting it was.

His was the only cock I had to practice on, of course. Unfortunately, we split up half way through our senior year of college. For a number of reasons I didn't get involved with anyone else after that.

It has been a long time since I was with my college boyfriend. And Ian's cock was much larger than any of my old boyfriends. But I wanted nothing more right at that moment than to suck Ian's large, masculine sex organ and bring him pleasure.

I wrapped my hand around the base of his cock and began sliding my lips down the shaft, caressing it with my tongue as I did. Ian moaned in pleasure as my mouth enveloped the top half of his shaft and I struggled to take even more of it into my mouth.

He didn't try to force more of his cock into my mouth than I could handle. Neither did he try to discourage my attempts to take more and more of his cock into my mouth.

I gagged when the head of his cock struck against the back of my throat. But I didn't let that discourage me. I was certain that it was just because I was out of practice. I wasn't trying to take it into my throat or anything. I'm no deep throat artist. But I felt compelled to take as much as I could of his beautiful cock into my mouth so that I could please him.

I was pretty proud of myself, too. I got much more than half of that fat thing in my mouth. He patted my head after some amount of time had passed. I have no idea how long. I was so excited that I was hardly aware of time having passed. He said, "Good girl. Now get ready. You are about to get the treat you have been working so hard for."

I knew it wasn't a treat. But he was right. I had worked hard for it and I actually did want it. I wasn't ready for what I got though. Ian had been separated and then divorced for a total of nearly two years. I found myself swallowing one huge mouthful of cum after another and wondering if this was the first orgasm he had experienced since his wife left him. I had never experienced anything like this before. There must have been close to a quarter cup of cum in those large balls! Okay, maybe that's a slight exaggeration. But there was a hell of a lot!

I held his cock in my mouth after I swallowed his cum. He continued to pet me affectionately as if I was his favorite dog. At any other time I would have found the way he was treating me demeaning. But for some reason, at that moment I was unaware of how he was debasing me as he used me for his pleasure.

No, that isn't entirely accurate. I had a sense that he was treating me in a manner calculated to demean and humiliate me. But for some reason that turned me on all the more! I hate it that I felt that way. But I did.

Ian's cock never went soft. He left it in my mouth for a few minutes and let me suck on it a little longer. Then he stepped back and said, "Okay. Now it's time to fuck that hot little pussy of yours. Get up on the bed and stretch out on your back. Now that you have taken the edge off I'm going to fuck you half to death, bitch."

He called me bitch! He called me bitch and when he did I nearly had an orgasm!! I must have truly lost my mind. I would never permit a man to talk to me like that. And I would certainly not lie back and spread my legs for him so that he could put his hard cock into me and use me.

But I did! I moaned passionately and threw myself down in the center of my bed. I spread my legs wide apart and held out my arms to welcome Ian into me.

He got on his knees between my legs and smiled down at me for a moment. He began to tease me. "You need it bad, don't you, cunt? You need some cock. You are hornier than you have ever been in your life. Isn't that right, little Kari?"

He moved closer to me and the head of his cock came to rest on my vulva. He gently slid it up and down through my sopping wet slit. I nearly screamed at him to fuck me. But he reached down and slapped one of my breasts and snapped, "I asked you a fucking question, cunt! Answer me!"

Cunt! Christ I hate that demeaning word. And yet when he called me that it sent shivers of pleasure down my spine. I finally found my voice and answered, "YES! God yes! I need your cock! Please, Ian, I need you to fuck me!"

I almost didn't recognize my own voice. I was choked up with lust, lust like I had never experienced it before. I would have said or done anything at that moment to have that fat cock inside of me. Anything!

He moved over me finally. He supported his weight on his hands and his knees and worked just the fat head of his cock inside of me. I sobbed in pleasure and waited with bated breath for him to drive that hard shaft into me to the hilt.

But he didn't. He wasn't through tormenting me. I opened my eyes to see why he wasn't fucking me and I saw that smug look on his face as he smiled down at me.

In a desperate, whiney voice that only served to increase my humiliation I whispered, "Please, Ian! Fuck me please. I need it so bad!"

But he didn't move. Instead, he leaned down and licked my face like an animal. It should have grossed me out. But I nearly had an orgasm when he did it!

I groaned and tried to lift my hips, trying desperately to get more of his cock inside of me. He wouldn't let me. His hips moved back so that just the fat knob at the tip of his cock remained wedged inside of me.

I was just about to scream at him when he asked, "Who was the last man to see your underwear, bitch?"

I started to tell him about my boyfriend in college but he cut me off. "Don't lie to me, bitch! Are you going to tell me that you haven't let any man see your underwear since college?! If you lie to me again I'll have to punish you."

How the hell did he know?! But he did know. I could see it in his eyes. Even so, I couldn't bring myself to tell him what I had done on the subway. It was too humiliating. I shook my head and pleaded once more, "Please, Ian! I need you to fuck me. I need it so bad!"

But he didn't move.

Finally I yelled, "I don't know!! I don't know their names!"

He chuckled and said, "Their names? More than one? Who, Kari?"

I closed my eyes and mumbled, "On the subway on the way home. I let them look up my skirt. I don't know them. I don't know why I did it. I couldn't help myself. But that's all I did! I swear it!"

I felt him begin to move into me then. I felt that wonderful fat cock begin to stretch me and fill me like never before as he slowly entered me. I had my first orgasm before his cock was half way inside of me. I wrapped my legs around his and I reached around his back and tried to pull him down on top of me. I was completely out of control. I was a total wanton slut. I had lost control for the first time in my life.

He lowered himself down onto his elbows and I finally felt his body covering me, taking control, taking possession. His cock bottomed out and I had never felt so full in my life. It was a glorious feeling and I was so grateful that he didn't move for a long time while we both savored it. He shivered with pleasure as my pussy gripped his cock. If he had ever made love to a woman who had a pussy tight as mine it had been a very long time.

But then, this wasn't making love. This was fucking.

He ground his pubic bone against me. I heard myself panting like a true bitch in heat. I lifted my head and began to kiss and lick his chest and his shoulders. I even stuck my tongue into his armpits! Nothing was turning me off. His taste and his scent were pure aphrodisiacs. Everything about this ... this what, this rape? This fuck?

Everything he did, everything about him was perfect. I was half out of my mind and I was thoroughly enjoying this perfect sex act. And it was the most demeaning sex I had ever had! This man had just followed me into my bedroom and undressed me! He was calling me terrible names and he had not kissed me once!

I didn't care about that now, though. I only cared about that magnificent cock that was just starting to stroke into me with hard, regular, breathtaking thrusts. Sex had never been like this before! For the first time I was finding out what it could be like to surrender to a man. There was a lot to recommend it.

He fucked me for a very long time with increasing violence. I came often and each orgasm was more satisfying than the last. At the end, when he began ramming his cock into me like that proverbial wild stallion and it started to hurt so good I heard a woman screaming incoherently. I could hear the passion in her voice and I knew just how she felt. It wasn't until just before I lost consciousness that I realized it was me doing all that screaming!

When consciousness returned the first thing I realized was that the magnificent cock that had had just stirred my passions so violently and driven me to heights of erotic pleasure that I had never reached before was still inside of me. I opened my eyes to see Ian still grinning down at me. Still with that arrogant look on his face that somehow seemed so appropriate.

We were both covered in sweat. He leaned down and nipped at my neck again and said, "You really did need some cock, didn't you, bitch?"

I groaned in embarrassment. But I whispered my honest response, "Yes."

I shivered uncontrollably as he slowly pulled his cock out of me and got out of bed. I was surprised at how disappointed I felt that it was over. But it wasn't over.

He stood beside the bed looking down at me. He said, "You're a fucking mess. Take a quick shower and come to my apartment. Don't dawdle. You don't want to piss me off."

I should have hated being talked to that way. But it sent shivers down my spine, shivers of excitement.

He pulled his pants and his t-shirt on and picked up his shirt and his shoes and socks. He picked up the white noise machine and started for my bedroom door but before he walked out he turned and said, "It's come as you are, bitch. I want you wearing just exactly what you have on now."

I sat up so suddenly that I almost passed out again. I exclaimed, "What! I can't go out like this! Ian! Be reasonable!"

It was as if I never said a word. He turned and walked away. I heard my apartment door close when he left. I sat there stunned. I couldn't believe what I had just done. But more than that, I got up and rushed to the bathroom with his cum running down my thighs and I couldn't believe what I was going to do. For I knew that even as much as the very idea appalled me, I was going to go to his apartment door in the nude as soon as I got cleaned up! I knew at that moment, because he had ordered me to do so, I was going to step out into a public hallway in the nude!

Once more I was forced to ponder what could possibly have brought about this huge change in me. I sat on the toilet listening to large globs of slimy cum dripping slowly into the water beneath me and wondered how I had lost so much control over my actions.

My desperate need for cock was slaked for the moment. What excuse did I now have for stepping out into the hallway between our apartments, totally naked? Maybe I really did need professional help!

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