Chapter 1

These were the parting words between my ex-girlfriend Cheryl and I when she left the college we both attended after I broke up with her. It was a complex breakup - I didn't really want to break up with her, but felt like I had been forced into it, in a sense, by what I felt were her outrageously unreasonable demands and behavior. We were young, and our love was deep and tempestuous, and it was hard to tell melodrama from truth, or whose feelings were whose. These parting words stuck with me for years, fifteen of them at this point, and I never was able to work out exactly what she had meant by them or what her motivations had been. Now I was finally going to ask her.

"Cheryl, what did you mean by that last thing you said to me when you left college after I broke up with you for the last time?"

"Which thing, Will?"

I hesitated, wondering if I could say it to her. Then I rushed ahead. "You know." She nodded, as if she did know, but raised her eyebrows questioningly and waited for me to say it; she wanted to hear me say it - I could almost feel her anticipation, hanging in the air like a living thing. It gave me courage, and my pulse quickened. I continued. "You said, 'My pussy will always be yours'." My voice shook slightly from a mixture of embarrassment, excitement, and trepidation as I said it. "What did you mean by that? Why did you say it?"

An excited smile twitched around the corners of her mouth. Her knees moved together and apart again involuntarily a few times. She looked me directly in the eyes and took a deep breath. "I wasn't kidding, Will. When I said my pussy would always be yours, I meant it, in all of the ways that I could mean it. It belongs to you. You can take it whenever you want." My cock grew a few sizes larger in my pants. I could feel it shifting, and my heartbeat getting even faster. We were sitting next to each other on the steps of the house that she and her husband John shared. They had two children, and a happy marriage as far as I could tell. He was an intelligent, kind, and insightful guy, and was always friendly towards me, giving me hugs when I visited, which I did regularly - we considered each other family and only lived about twenty minutes apart. Cheryl and I had never had this conversation before, though. I had always been too chicken to ask her about it, but I was in a bolder mood than usual this evening.

"You mean, if I wanted to put my hands down your pants and stick my finger in your pussy right now, I could?"

"That is the least of what you could do," she said carefully and slowly, still looking directly at me, glancing briefly down to note the bulge at my crotch.

"What about John?"

"He knows, Will. I told him before I married him. I've told everybody I've dated since you that my pussy is on implied loan, since you haven't told me I can or can't do anything in particular with it. Perhaps I've been remiss. I mean, it may not be in the condition it was in when I gave it to you.

Maybe I should have asked before I squeezed two kids out through it." She laughed merrily and with a bit of abandon - she was at least as nervous as I was.

Was this a joke? She seemed to think it was funny, but she also seemed serious, and appeared very invested in this interchange. I had fantasized about her pussy quite a bit since we broke up. It was a very nice pussy indeed. I remembered it as nearly always wet, framed by a dark, medium-sized bush, sometimes trimmed. I loved the way she responded, which was, of course, the real turn-on. Body parts are body parts. Brains are the real sex organ.

"OK this sounds really fun, like the stuff of fantasy. I will play. However, I'm giving you a safeword in case you ever decide that I am doing something that you don't want me to do."

"That won't happen. I am sure about this, Will."

"I'm giving you one anyway. It will make me feel safer playing this game with you. The safeword is 'aardvark'. If you ever say it, the game is over for a month. After a month, you can opt back in if you want."

"This isn't a game to me. I'm giving you my pussy, Will. I gave it to you a long time ago, and it's been yours the whole time. I've never regretted it and I never will. But I understand. I will say 'aardvark' if I ever for some strange reason change my mind."

Good. That was out of the way. Now we'd start playing.

"I want to see my pussy, Cheryl. Show it to me."

It was around 9PM. The kids were in bed. John was inside doing some research on the computer. He could come out at any moment. If she was serious, this was the test.

She looked me hard in the eyes, a smouldering look, said, "Yes, sir," then stood up, walked down to the bottom of the steps while unbuttoning her pants, slid them down to her ankles, along with her black underwear, turned to face me where I was sitting on the steps, and crouched down, knees wide. She spread her cunt apart with two hands.

"Is that view good enough for you, sir?" she asked. She had never called me sir before. This was new, and it looked like perhaps it was turning her on as much as me. Maybe more. Though at this point, my cock was tenting my pants. Her pussy looked just as delicious as I remembered. Her very dark bush was currently in near-untrimmed state, and I could see drops of moisture stuck to the hair around her outer labia. She was already sopping wet.

"You aren't afraid John is going to come out?"

"I'm hoping he will. We've been waiting for you to do this ever since we got married. You didn't answer me, sir. Is the view good enough for you?"

"It's lovely, Cheryl. Lovely. Your pussy looks gorgeously sexy, just like I have dreamed about all these years."

"YOUR pussy, sir, not mine. And you didn't need to dream. It was yours all the time."

I was still hung up on some things. This was too good to be true. "Wait, you've been waiting for this ever since you got married? Both of you have?"

"You don't think somebody would marry me unless the idea of me doing this turned them on, do you? If we walked inside right now and you bent me over the divan at his feet in the living room and fucked the shit out of me and came inside me, when you were done, he would ask your permission to have sloppy seconds."

That sounded hot. Really hot. But something made me not do that just yet.

"What about the rest of you? Is it just your pussy that I own? What about your mouth? Can I demand blowjobs of you? What about your ass? May I fuck your ass?"

"Just my pussy. The rest of me is mine. You might be able to persuade me to do certain things, but you can't demand them."

I suddenly knew exactly what I was going to do. And it was going to be even hotter than the scene she had described. I was pretty sure I understood her fantasy, and it was going to be fun fulfilling it. She liked rules, I think. I would make her one.

"Cheryl, your pussy is no longer on implied loan. From now on, anything that goes in or out of your pussy may only do so with my permission. Now pull your pants back up. Thanks for the viewing of my property."

She seemed clearly disappointed, but complied, and sat back down. I continued our conversation where we had left off, as if that interlude had not occurred. She kept looking at me expectantly, but I didn't respond. I acted as we always had. Soon we went inside, sat around the dining room table and started drinking, like we always did. It was Friday, and the night was young. John joined us and opened a beer too. He wasn't much of a drinker - we were usually way ahead of him, but he was known to have the occasional beer.

We talked for awhile, comfortably, like we always did, about a wide range of subjects, though Cheryl kept glancing at me. John started to pick up on it a bit, I think. I saw him grin a couple of times for reasons I could not explain. I wonder if they had some secret sign and she had somehow told him. About half an hour later, Cheryl turned to me and said, "I have to pee, Will. May I go to the bathroom and use your pussy to pee?"

This hadn't occurred to me when I had made the rule. However, she was interpreting it strictly, which didn't surprise me, knowing her. I was a little bit flabbergasted that she would ask me in front of John, but she said it with no hesitation whatsoever. I looked at John, and he just shot me back a grin. He looked very pleased indeed. I suddenly believed Cheryl that he, too, had been waiting for this.

"No." I said, firmly. She looked over at me, eyebrows raised. There was a pause while she considered. I think she was expecting more.

"I see," she said. "Yes, sir."

And we went back to talking and drinking. About twenty minutes later I noticed Cheryl beginning to squirm in her chair. She turned towards me. "When are you going to let me go to the bathroom?" she asked.

"Never," I said, and I made my tone flat. Another pause. Tension, but fun tension. John was clearly enjoying this.

"I'm going to piss myself eventually, Will. I'm sorry."

"I didn't say you couldn't pee. I just said you couldn't go to the bathroom."

She rolled her eyes at me. "May I use your pussy to pee, sir?"

"There you go," I said. "That is a better question." I went into the kitchen and grabbed a ½ quart mixing bowl and handed it to her. "You may, if you hop up on the table and piss into this. Put on a good show and I might let you pee again someday. And don't spill."

"That isn't going to hold everything I've got," she protested.

"Well, guess you'll have to hold the rest for next time then," I said.

Cheryl glanced over at John for help. "Don't look at me," he said. "You're the one who decided to give your pussy to this lunatic!" He gave me a look that didn't look like he thought I was a lunatic at all. I'm pretty sure he was thinking I was brilliant.

She sighed an exaggerated sigh of mock exasperation and shed everything below the waist, then hopped up on the heavy butcher-block table, which barely moved under her maybe 130lbs, and squatted down in front of me, over the bowl. John moved around to my side of the table, sitting on a bench by the wall, so he could see, too.

She started cautiously, dripping just a few drops into the bowl, but she really had to go, and suddenly she let go, a stream of piss shooting out of her urethra and into the bowl. It splattered a bit at first, before there was any liquid on the bottom to prevent it from doing so, and got on the table a bit, and perhaps a bit in John's and my faces as well, but it wasn't much. She looked slightly alarmed, but kept going, and in almost no time flat the bowl was nearly full, and I could see her straining to cut off the flow as she neared the top. It didn't seem to be working.

"I can't stop!" she said, and I reached out and stuck two fingers deep into her pussy, spraying piss everywhere for a second in the process. She was so wet that they slid right in with almost no resistance, and cut the flow of piss down to a dribble. She was able to regain control at that point. I was being very turned on by having my fingers in her pussy, and couldn't resist the temptation to rub her g-spot just a little bit. She looked directly into my eyes, pleadingly, but I pulled my fingers back out of her pussy and admonished her, "I only did that because I had to, Cheryl. You made a mess! See if I let you piss again!"

"I'm not practiced at stopping in the middle, sir," she said. "It's hard!" she put her hand to her bladder, and got back down off the table, making an exaggerated show of still having to pee. John laughed at her.

"Poor you, baby! Poor you! How could he be so mean?" he said.

"I don't know! He is mean! What can I do so that you will let me pee again, Will?"

"Well, for starters, clean up the piss you splattered everywhere when I stuck my fingers in your pussy."

"Your pussy," she corrected.

"My pussy," I said. Our eyes locked, and I think we both got even more turned on than we already were.

"Yes sir, right away." she said, and went and got the surface cleaner and sponge and wiped down the whole table, dumped the mixing bowl down the sink, and washed it. She didn't bother to put her pants back on. John and I admired her naked lower half while she did this.

"What else, sir? I still need to pee, and I'd really like to be allowed to finish, let alone being allowed to pee ever again."

"What do you think, John?" I asked.

"Hey man, it's your pussy," he said. "I'm staying out of this." I could see the tent in his shorts, though.

"Fish poor John's cock out of his pants and give him a blowjob," I said. "Unless you object, John."

"Object to a blowjob? Of course not. She rarely gives me blowjobs. Only on special occasions," he said. "I think it's just to keep me appreciating them, though; she always seems to really enjoy herself."

"Well, looks like it's your lucky day, baby. It's a special occasion for sure! The day Will finally retakes possession of his pussy. We've been waiting for almost ten years for this. Hell, I've been waiting fifteen!"

"Yes you have, baby, yes you have." he said, pulling down his zipper.

"I'll be allowed to finish peeing if I give him a blowjob?" she asked.

"I didn't say that," I said.

"Before I agree to giving him a blowjob, I want to know what I have to do in order to be allowed to finish peeing," she said.

"You have to make him cum however he wants you to make him cum, and let him cum wherever he wants to cum. Then you may fill that bowl again. No spilling this time though." She pouted.

I stage-whispered to John, "You should cum in her pussy!"

"Good idea!" he stage-whispered back to me.

"Is there really nothing I can do to be allowed to finish peeing?" she asked. "I think I might be able to fill that bowl again, and I don't know if I can stop!"

"You could let him fuck your ass?" I suggested. I knew that, at least back when we were dating, that wasn't a thing she would ever do. Maybe she'd gotten dirtier over the years - who knows?

"Not right now," she said, looking at me with a mysterious look. I couldn't tell if it was disdain, intrigue, or something else entirely. "I'll take option one."

John shifted in his seat in anticipation. I could see lubrication on Cheryl's inner thighs, dripping out of her pussy. Oops, my pussy. This was a damned good time. Why hadn't I asked Cheryl what she had meant by that comment earlier? I was a fool.

Cheryl crawled over to John, gave him a loving look, which he returned, and fished his cock out through his already-unzipped zipper. His good-sized cock was already hard as a rock. She took it in her mouth slowly, never leaving his gaze, and licked around the tip. It was super-hot to watch their dynamic - they were clearly very in love and had been thinking about this happening for a really long time and were both incredibly turned on.

After a couple of minutes, she started bobbing up and down on his cock in more earnest, and pretty soon after that, he said, "Stop that for a minute, honey. I want to feel your pussy around my cock."

"How do you want me?" she asked him. Instead of answering, he just turned her around, bent her over, and rammed his cock home from behind. She was so wet that he sank in with almost no resistance. She moaned in appreciation, and reached back to rub herself.

"Did I say you could touch my pussy?" I asked her sharply. She yanked her hand away. "No sir. Sorry, sir!" and gave me a smoldering look. I think I was getting it right.

After only a few strokes, John pulled out and sat back down again. "Well, your pussy is nice, but I think maybe I like your mouth even better. I can't decide. Suck my cock again for a minute to help me make up my mind."

She turned around like lightning, bent down and devoured his cock.

"Whoah!" he said. "You like this honey, don't you?" she nodded. "Well, I'm not complaining!" He leaned closer to her face and asked, maintaining eye contact with her, "How does your cunt taste on my cock, baby?"

She moaned around his cock and broke eye contact. That was answer enough.

After only a couple more minutes of her bobbing frantically up and down on his cock and every once in awhile reaching down like she was going to touch herself, then yanking her hand away again as she remembered that she didn't have permission and moaning in frustration, sometimes shooting me a dirty or pleading look, to which I did not respond, in between maintaining smoldering eye contact with her husband, he said, "I'm gonna cum soon, baby. I wanna cum in your pussy, not your mouth, though. I'm gonna tell you to turn around in a minute, and when I do, turn around really fast so I can get my cock in you from behind."

She nodded, and kept bobbing up and down on his cock. "Turn around baby, turn around!" he said, raising his hips up off the bench he was sitting on. She turned around in a flash and bent over, and he was up her cunt in a quick second. He just made it - I could see just a bit of cum shooting out of his cock as he entered her. He slammed into her repeatedly, cumming deep inside her, his eyes rolled back in his head, and she moaned loudly, reminding me acutely of what she always sounded like right when she was about to cum, but he didn't take her over the edge. She never used to be able to cum purely from penetration anyway. A lot can change in fifteen years, though!