Chapter 21

Natasha gasped as the expectant silence of the crowd enveloped the moment. The air punctuated with flashes from cameras as my girlfriend stood motionless, staring at me openmouthed. My heart pounded as I waited; the seconds dragged, and I saw every reaction from Natasha. A breaking smile, a bite of her lips, a blush of her cheeks and a deep inhalation of breath. Moments that etched into my memory as her mind processed my question.

“Yes!” she squealed into her microphone. “Hell yes. Of course I’ll fucking marry you!” I had barely made it to my feet when her arms landed around my neck, throwing me off balance as she hung onto me. She whispered into my ear. “You are so getting fucked tonight!”

I felt the moment. The bright, hot lamps on stage, the wild commotion of the audience, and beaming grins from Natasha’s bandmates directed towards me and my fiancee.

Because that’s what Natasha now was. The woman I had admired, adored, idolised and revered for years as I criss-crossed the country to see her perform time after time had become my betrothed. The person who I had never expected to meet was my wife-to-be.

We left the stage to a roar, and my lover pulled me into a small dimly lit storeroom. Pale light streaked across the space, flooding into the large storage unit from the corridor through translucent panels at the top of the well-stacked wall. She held me close. We stood in the centre of the store, grinding our bodies against each other as our hands raced and pawed at our clothes. Unbuttoning. Unzipping. Disrobing. Frantically, we undressed as we kissed, and she leaned back on the wooden desk, scattering sheets of paper into the air.

I could smell her arousal and my knees slammed against the floor as I buried my lips into her cunt, pulling her forward so her butt rested against the edge of the smooth table.

She groaned as I lapped at her musky folds. So often, I immersed myself in her delicious snatch, but this felt different. This expressed passionate love, not carnal enjoyment. My tongue traced her inner thighs, and I nuzzled at her mons in the soft half-light as the band partied next door. My hands explored her body, sliding over her smooth, lithe frame.

I swept over her breasts, swirling her nipples under my touch, and I rubbed and massaged her flanks and her thighs as my lips caressed her clit. She mumbled into her heavy breathing when my finger slid into her hole and curled against her G-Spot.

She adjusted herself; her hands darted through my hair as I wallowed in her feminine arousal. Her succulent aroma, her intoxicating taste and her slipperiness as my tongue flicked her bean, and I ground against the walls of her cunt.

Her body bucked; Natasha’s thighs quivered and her breathing raced as her orgasm powered through her naked frame. Her fingertips dug into my skull as the climax shocked my punk rocker and cascaded across her conscience.

I looked at her in the glow of the feint light, and she met my gaze. My fingers worked her G-Spot, as I lightly kissed her thigh, peeking at the flushed expression on my fiancee’s face. She mewed and squeaked, groaning as my tongue swirled over her delicate clit once more.

Lust poured from her, and from me. I dwarfed the wet spot I made on the floor from my cock leaking pre-cum, with the flood of juices seeping from my oral worship of her delicious cunt. The room reeked of her sexual enjoyment as I drove her to another orgasm, and then another.

Each time, she writhed on the desk, grinding her wet cunt into my face as the climax blasted through her body, exciting and ravishing every pore in her. “Fuck me,” she demanded with a breathless smile.

I reached into my trouser pocket and swore. “Monika’s got my condoms at the house.”

“Oh, just fucking take me,” my girlfriend snapped. “I’m not due on for another fortnight. Fuck me hard.” I stared directly at Natasha as I stood over her and guided my unfettered cock into her open hole in the half-light. Our eyes interlocked as I filled my fiancee bareback for the first time in our relationship. She gulped as my prick slipped into her.

I held the backs of her thighs as I drilled into her, slamming my shaft deep into her cunt. Everything felt closer, more intimate, and more intense. Her warmth kissed my shaft, and her fingers explored. I watched her face; the twisted grip of pleasure as I rammed my dick into her greasy hole.

The lustrous, sleekness took me closer to my apex. She pulled me towards her, and I leant over the table to kiss my fiancee. Her hands gripped the back of my neck as she panted, forcing her lips onto mine as my orgasm swelled. I grunted, and I jackhammered into her cunt, chasing my climax.

An overwhelming freedom swept through my cock. The visceral closeness of our sex consumed my lust as I relented to the boiling urge and I pumped my cum into my fiancee.

Natasha’s hands gripped my flesh as she felt the warmth flood her cunt. Our tongues twisted as we snogged and broke, grinning into the half-light. “You’ve probably made a fucking mess,” she giggled.

We had. We cleaned up as best we could before we redressed and hid much of the evidence. But Natasha’s band knew exactly what we had done; we entered the packed green room to bawdy cheers and the clinking of beer bottles. Bohdana, Jamie and Monika sat on the sofa, beaming as the pink-haired punk rocker led me by my hand.

“To Natasha. And her boy!” Faye cried, holding a bottle of wine aloft as the excited musicians bawled and yelled. The next two hours were a blur; dozens of people congratulated my fiancee and me. The band and the entourage drank heavily in the back rooms of the Oxford theatre. Photos were taken, Faye stripped and teased Nessie, and her humiliation was captured by half-a-dozen cameras.

My lover became the centre of the celebrations. She slouched onto the sofa, holding two drinks and confidently shouted while downing beer and wine, as the musicians celebrated.

She forced me to go down on her. She rarely wore underwear, and the remnants of my cum had leaked and dripped onto her thighs and short skirt. My drunk lover pressed my face into her bald snatch, saturated with the musky remains of our intercourse.

I’d never eaten a creampie before. The sordidness of her actions, in full view of the green room, was a jolt to my arousal. Natasha, sporting a £7,000 engagement ring, humiliated her fiance in front of everyone by pressing my face into her cum-covered cunt.

She giggled as my tongue lapped at her sodden slit, tasting the fruits of our sex. My tastebuds danced with the new sensations, appreciating my deposits seeping from her snatch. Her power and domination made the moment more special; her fingers brushed my hair as I guzzled the zesty cream.

Liquid silk smoothly oozed past my lips as I eagerly lapped at her enticing folds, beautifully open.

She never cared that the support act, her band mates and the backing crew, witnessed her splayed pussy and hiked skirt. Natasha was shameless about sex and embraced it wildly. Most of them had seen much more of her rampant sexuality in the past, anyway.

The wild circus was a rowdy, boisterous affair, powered by alcohol, excitement, and arousal. We left in a taxi at midnight, with the inexperienced driver offered a blowjob from the naked submissive as a “tip.” He blushed, stumbling over his words, as we exited his eight-seater vehicle.

Natasha, with her sparkling eyes, dragged me to the bathroom. “I’ve had a dozen beers and I’m desperate for a fucking piss,” she exclaimed, so loud our friends heard. I stripped as she squirmed, snapping at me, and I lay in the cold enamel tub.

Her lightly tattooed flank, twinkling belly button and shaven snatch presented itself as she rest her butt on the ledge at the head of the bath and giggled as her fingers slid either side of her splayed labia.

Her cunt twitched, and she sighed as the sprinkle of her pee arched from her urethra and sprayed over my face. Sweet musky nastiness, moistening my mouth, cheeks and chin with warm waste from my fiancee.

She groaned, and I stared at her hands, holding her lips apart as she forcibly expelled a jet of her pee.

The pale yellow honey covered my chest and my crotch, smashing against my skin as the fountain flowed from my lover. Vile degradation gushed from my fiancee, smothering me in the stench of her waste and the delicious taste of humiliation. “Come in,” Natasha squealed as the door creaked. “Go on the fucking slut.”

Bohdana smirked as she entered and perched her derriere on the edge of the bath, talking to her cousin as if I wasn’t there. I stared longingly at her hairless pussy, and her stream splashed against my thighs while Natasha’s deluge slowed and sputtered.

Faye was next; she recycled a bottle of wine over my face, and her cascade of sweet squalor danced wonders on my arousal and my tastebuds. Beautifully piquant, the red-haired lesbian filled my nostrils with the earthy, acidic smell of her warm champagne.

My cock revelled in every shower. Natasha sat on the toilet lid, casually chatting to her bandmates as they defiled her new fiance. They queued up to debase me in turn. Natasha, Bohdana, Faye, Monika, then Nessie. Each woman voided their bladder in the bath over me, soaking me in the malodorous stench of their urine.

I loved it. I adored the burning taste, tepid warmth, vicious smell and beautiful sight as I wallowed in their domination of me. The absolute humiliation as my lover and her friends used me as their latrine.

And then Jamie hovered by the doorway. Natasha smiled and gestured to the bath, not stopping her bawdy chatter with her friends. I’d never had a golden shower from Monika’s “boi” before. The student had fellated me, fucked me, massaged me and kissed me, but they had never urinated over me.

The rosy cheeks matched their deep red hair as they lifted their tartan kilt and pulled their skimpy feminine underwear to their knees. Monika waved Jamie’s meaty dick inches from my face and patted her “boi” on the bum.

Pee dribbled from the end of his prick, landing on my chest, before it flowed, surging from their semi-erect cock. Monika directed the spurting spring of yellow rain, splashing off my skin and my face. I drank from the spray cascading over me.

Jamie’s waste was more intense and harsher. It burnt the back of my throat and the air reeked of familiar ammoniacal odour. But watching the liquid tumble from the head of the dick, held by Monika, coat my skin, was delightful. My flesh, glazed and painted with piss, tingled as the two students dominated me.

I craved for more. As Jamie’s flow slowed, I wanted more piss and more humiliation. My arousal was clear as I inhaled the scent of five bladders and squirmed in the pee of my friends and lovers. I could still taste the acidic potency on my tongue as Monika shook her boi’s prick free of drips. And then she jerked it. Strong hand movements up and down their shaft.

The femboy had a mismatch of styles - fishnet stockings, neon kilt, punk rock black T-shirt, Doc Marten boots and an erect cock dripping pre-cum - as their girlfriend stroked their dick. Natasha knelt beside the bath.

My eyes were transfixed on the blurring hand of Monika, the groaning joy of Jamie and the wicked grin on my fiancee’s face. She watched as the submissive student groaned and squealed, and the first shot of cum splattered onto my chest. The second hit my chin as the teenage dominant tugged and stroked the dick harder and harder.

Another few spurts landed on me. Warm, viscous seed splashed over my urine-soaked body and Natasha scooped a streak of Jamie’s goo and held it against my lips. My overpowering horniness controlled me and I sucked her fingers dry, tasting the musky sweetness with the acidic overtones of the pee.