Calienté rode slowly up and down the thick prong of Hammer’s cock. She was so deliciously filled that she could almost ignore the aching fullness of her own cock that was leaking a stream of precum that had caused her balls to be soaked, and even Hammer’s stomach to have a puddle of the slippery stuff on it.

She clenched her internal muscles trying to feel every millimeter of the long hot probe that rubbed something deep within her so pleasurably that she knew she was as addicted to riding Hammer’s cock as she might have been to the street drugs that she knew were widely and easily available in the neighborhood where she lived and worked. But she didn’t care. She would suck Hammer’s cock until it was harder than Chinese arithmetic and then ride it as often as he wanted her to do it. Perhaps, she thought the contrast between the pain of resisting the man whose prick she rode and the pleasure of submission had something to do with her willingness to be his sex slave, she didn’t know all she knew was that she wanted more pleasure. And the way to get it was to suck or fuck Hammer or those he sent to see her.

She bent low to change the angle of the prick filling her body, to feel it rubbing against the root of her own cock and to feel the length of the turgid shaft of flesh probe her heated sheath in a slightly different manner. Hammer lazily reached up and touched the oh so sensitive and new boobies that Calienté was growing while saying, “Cum for me pretty girl.”

Lightning struck! At least that was how it seemed to Calienté, the moment before Hammer lightly pinched her nipples she was not quite ready to cum. The second after he pinched her, her cock was throbbing and spraying cum so hard that it hit the wall at the head of the bed.

When her body was finished spasming and she even experienced a few dry spasms that made it feel like she was trying to pump her balls out through her cock, Calienté collapsed crying. “I wish you wouldn’t do that to me, I wasn’t ready to cum yet,” she sobbed.

“I know,” Hammer rumbled under her, “but I do have other things to do than to lay pipe in you all day.”

“What else can I do? When you and Gina aren’t here I don’t have much to do,” Calienté whined a little, even though that was apt to earn her a paddling.

Calvin awoke with a start, his cock was still spasming around the catheter that was draining his bladder. His breasts ached and his asshole felt infinitely empty. Somehow he knew the dream he’d just woken from was a real memory. When had he become addicted to being fucked in the ass? He wondered, and when had he accepted thinking of himself as a girl?