The Devil’s Pact
Tales from the Best Buy Incident: One Year Later
© Copyright 2015
Story Codes: Male/Female, Female/Female, Male/Female/Teen female, Teen male/Female, Cuckold, Cheating, Domination/submission, Anal Sex, Oral Sex, Exhibitionism, Voyeurism, Pregnant
For a list of all the Devil’s Pact Chapters and other stories click here
Comments are very welcome. I would like all criticism, positive and negative, so long as its
constructive, and feedback is very appreciated.
Note: This takes place three weeks after the Best Buy Incident, following Fatima. Thanks for Scotstigger.
Friday, June 6th, 2014 – Jessie Smith
Mrs. Jepheson was bound tightly when I entered the bedroom, the beige rope biting into her pale, naked flesh. She squirmed, her tits—a loop of rope encircling each large melon, squeezing the flesh—jiggled and shook, waving about her fat nipples. A black sleeping mask covered her eyes, half-hidden by the mane of honey-blonde hair that fell across her face
The Jephesons were regulars of the business I ran with my fiancee: Divine Escorts. Mr. Jepheson liked to hire our girls to discipline his wife while he fucked his mistress, a saucy redhead name Kylie. I was dressed in an uncomfortable leather bustier that pushed up my perky tits and left my nipples bare. Garters were attached to the bottom of the bustier, holding up a pair of thigh-high fishnets. Knee-high leather boots and the riding crop in my hand completed my outfit.
“Are you going to howl for Mistress Jessie?” I asked, trailing the leather of my riding crop across Mrs. Jepheson’s plump ass.
“I am,” she purred. “I’ve been a naughty wife. Punish me!”
“She burned last night’s dinner,” Mr. Jepheson said. He sat on a chair in the corner, the naked, redheaded Kylie kneeling before him and bobbing her head on his cock. “I think she did it on purpose.”
“I did,” the bound housewife sighed happily. “I’m so bad. I need to be punished hard!”
I brought the crop down with a stinging smack on her ass. Playing the S&M Queen wasn’t one of my favorite activities, but I believed in following the number one rule of retail—keep the customer satisfied.
I grabbed the length of rope that ran through her ass crack and pussy, yanking hard on it and pulling it deep into her pussy, her labia obscenely swallowing the rope while she whimpered in pain. “You need to count, slave, and thank me!”
“Sorry, Mistress Jessie!” she moaned. Mrs. Jepheson knew the rules; she just liked to break them.
“Hit her harder,” her husband groaned. “Make my naughty slave howl!”
Smack! White flesh turned stinging red. “Two, thank you Mistress Jessie!” she moaned.
“You forgot one!” I snarled, yanking on the rope again, driving it even deeper into her pussy.
Smack! “One, thank you Mistress Jessie!”
I kept smacking her, watching her white ass slowly transform red. She moaned, thanking me every time, writhing on the bed like a little slut in heat. Her pussy leaked fluids, filling the air with her delicious, tangy aroma, while the robe slowly drank in her juices, a dark stain spreading up the rope nestled in the valley of her asscheeks.
“Punish the slut!” her husband moaned. “Oh, Gods yes!” He held Kylie’s face in both hands, vigorously fucking the woman’s face on his cock. “She’s a filthy fucking whore! A nasty cunt! Yes, yes!” I saw him tense out of the corner of my eye, his cum must be flooding Kylie’s mouth. Panting, he said, “You can cum, my naughty slave-wife!”
“Oh, yes! Oh, fucking yes! Thank you, Master!” Mrs. Jepheson purred, bucking on the bed as an orgasm rippled through her. I smacked her ass one last time. “Thirty-four, thank you Mistress Jessie!”
I placed my booted foot on the bed near her face, my naked pussy drenched with juices. I wanted to grab her and rub my cunt against her beautiful lips. But the Jephesons never had sex with me, I only spanked the wife while he watched. She scooted on the bed, wiggling like a worm, and brought her lips to my black boot, kissing the toe.
“Thank for disciplining me, Mistress Jessie,” she murmured, then kissed the boot again.
I didn’t answer, I just walked out of the room, snatching the wad of twenties off the dresser on my way out. “Here’s your reward,” I heard Mr. Jepheson say.
“I love it when you fuck my ass,” his wife purred. “I love you, Master.”
“I love you, too, Monica,” he answered her.
They were a strange couple, very active in the worship of the Gods, founding the Eastside Living Church. Mr. Jepheson liked to brag about how our God had transformed his wife from someone frigid in the bedroom to the submissive slave-wife she was today. Mark had that effect on people, if it hadn’t been for him I wouldn’t be a prostitute engaged to my pimp.
I still remembered the wonderful day of the Best Buy Incident and his hard cock reaming my pussy while everyone watched.
Kevin waited outside in his blue Honda CRV, talking on his cell phone. He hung up when he saw me, slipping out of the car. He had filled out in the last year, spending some time in the gym. Gone was the pimply-faced nerdy boy that was too shy to talk to me before I fucked him the bathroom of a Starbucks—a confident man had replaced him.
I walked down the driveway, still dressed in my dominatrix outfit, my tits and pussy on display for the world to see. A year ago this would have been illegal, but our Gods had gotten rid of such silly laws like public decency. If you wanted to flaunt your nubile body, then you did it. And if you anted to demonstrate your affections in a public place, what was the harm in someone watching you fuck?
And I needed to fuck!
“Hey, babe,” he greeted me, dressed in gray slacks and blue silk shirt, his sports blazer neatly folded on the backseat of the car. “How’d it go?”
“Fine,” I answered. “But I’m so horny, Kevin.”
I reached him, throwing my arms around his neck and kissing him seriously. “I can think of a few ways to fix that,” he grinned, then reached into his pocket and pulled out my diamond engagement ring. It seemed wrong to wear it when I saw clients, so Kevin always hung onto it for me. After it was properly on my finger, I kissed him more seriously, writhing my body against him.
“Now…how should I satisfy you?” Kevin asked.
“With your cock,” I moaned. “I need you to fuck my little snatch! Spanking Mrs. Jepheson made me so horny!”
He bent me over the hood of his car, unzipped his pants, and shoved his cock into my juicy cunt. I didn’t need any foreplay to be ready, not after whipping Mrs. Jepheson to her orgasm. Kevin’s cock was big, filling up my pussy nicely. His was one of the best cocks I’d ever fucked, and the fact I loved him just made the sex better.
“Fuck me, stud!” I moaned loudly.
A pair of teenage girls walking down the street paused when they saw us, giggling and whispering to each other. I smiled at them, winking, and raised up on the hood so they could get a good look at my tits. One pulled out her cell phone and started video tapping.
I groaned loudly for the camera, “Oh yes, fuck me good!”
“Fuck, you’re a great whore!” Kevin shouted. “Worth the hundred bucks I paid!”
I looked over my shoulder, confused for a moment, then realized what Kevin was doing. “Umm, that’s because only the best whores work for Divine Escorts! Tell your friends, the prettiest girls to keep you satisfied!” A little free advertisement couldn’t hurt; Kevin was a genius at the business side of things.
The other girl leaned over and whatever she said to the teen filming brought a blush. With sultry laughs, the two disappeared into a house, probably to fuck. I pictured the two girls stripping each other’s clothes off, fingering budding breasts and tight slits, maybe tasting sweet pussy for the first time ever.
Thanks to the Wormwood Plague, there were more women than men in the world. A third of all the males ha] died; my own Kevin was deathly ill last November. Priestess Daisy had ordered all the sick members of the Church to come to the pavilion where our Gods would heal all they could. I don’t know what I would have done if Kevin had succumbed to it.
“Fuck I love your cunt, Jessie,” Kevin moaned, slamming harder into me.
I gave a squeeze with my pussy muscles, gripping his cock tight, and wiggling my ass back onto him. His cock was electricity rubbing through my cunt, sparking pleasure through my body. When Kevin thrust into me, my clit pressed against the cold metal of the car hood, the sensitive nub grinding against the metal.
“I’m gonna cum!” I moaned. “By Mary’s beautiful tits, I’m gonna cum!”
My little snatch exploded on Kevin’s cock, spasming on it as I convulsed on the car hood. His dick kept fucking me, spearing me, sending waves of smaller cums churning through my body. His thrust became more erratic, more frantic, and then with a powerful roar, my cunt was flooded with his spunk.
“Gods that was great,” Kevin sighed. “Love ya, babe.”
He pulled out of me and I turned around and kissed him lovingly. Kevin grabbed a towel out of the trunk, and gently spread it out on the passenger seat for me. I climbed in, feeling the gooey mess between my legs slowly trickle out. I couldn’t resist, reaching down and hooking my finger through my nethers, gathering a huge gob of cum and pussy juices. It was delicious.
Kevin climbed in, started the car, gave my thigh a quick squeeze, and sped off, quickly turning right on Portland Avenue heading for Highway 512 to take us home. We had bought a beautiful house in downtown Puyallup, a black, iron-wrought fence surrounding a gray house and the most lovely rhododendron bushes, full of purple, red, and pink flowers.
“Oh, that mind-blowing sex drove it from my mind, but I spoke with Rose right before you finished with the Jephesons,” Kevin said. “She wants to talk during the reception tonight about a business opportunity.”
I smiled and asked, “Does the Church need to hire a bunch of prostitutes?”
He shrugged, “She wouldn’t say.”
“And a wedding reception is the best place to talk about this?”
Tonight two of our employees, Lucy McKay and Fatima Tawfeek, were getting married. Like Kevin and I, they became a couple because of our God’s powerful sermon at the Best Buy Orgy a year ago. After hiring our first escort, my roommate Anne, I talked to a few girls that I used to work with at Best Buy. Stacy and Rosalita, another couple forged during the orgy, were eager to make some real money, and they had talked Lucy and Fatima into joining. They, along with five others, were our regular stable of girls.
Maybe it shouldn’t be surprising, but all of our girls had had their lives touched by Mark and Mary in some way: Abby was kidnapped by Mark’s dead bodyguard, the Holy Martyr Chasity, and forced to pleasure the God in the backseat of a cop car; Emily Jones was introduced to us by Mary’s father, Emily’s high school teacher and lover; Iseul and Yun Rhee, a pair of Korean sisters, lived on the very block the Miracle had occurred on; and Wanda Sykes was a waitress who worked alongside Korina and Xiu, two of the Holy Sluts, and served our Gods on the night of their engagement.
Fifteen minutes later, we were home. “You better hurry,” Kevin urged me. “We have to leave in thirty minutes if we want to be on time.”
“I’ll be ready,” I said, rolling my eyes.
“Sure,” he said sarcastically, so I playfully punched him on the shoulder. “If you didn’t want to be late, you shouldn’t have scheduled my date so close.”
“The Jephesons are regulars,” Kevin pointed out. “And you’re the best at playing dominatrix. Remember the rule.”
I stuck my tongue out at him for mentioning the number one rule of retail.
“It’s your rule, babe,” he grinned, then playfully slapped my naked ass. “Go take your shower; I’ll lay your dress out.”
Marshal, my husband, parked our car in the temporary headquarters of the Church of the Living Gods, a repurposed Christian Megachurch in downtown Puyallup. A large, white building, with many large glass windows. Other cars were arriving, their occupants walking into doors decorated with white and blue flowers. Above, a banner that read: “McKay-Tawfeek Wedding” decorated with red hearts.
Marshal and I knew Lucy and Fatima from the weekly support meetings. After the Best Buy Incident—those who experienced it like to call it the Orgy—last year, many of us had a hard time adjusting to what happened to us, and a support group had formed. We had helped each other get through it. So now, we were all family, and we were all excited to celebrate Lucy and Fatima’s love tonight.
I waited for Marshal to walk around to my side of the car. At eight months pregnant, it was awkward for me to get out. “Thank you, Sir,” I told him as he gently assisted me, then playfully saluted him. “Sir” was my pet name for my husband since his name, Marshal, sounded like a military rank. When we first started dating, I jokingly called him “Sir.” That led to some interesting love making.
“My pleasure,” he saluted back. “That dress looks gorgeous on you.”
“Even when I’m as fat as a whale?” I asked.
“Well, you’re not that fat.” He gave me a considering look. “Maybe a walrus?”
“Walrus?” I demanded with mock indignity.
“A beautiful, sexy walrus.” He grinned and threw his arms around me, kissing me.
“All those adjectives do not make ‘walrus’ sound attractive,” I told him after the kiss. “Try better next time.”
He deserved the light kick I gave him on his shin for that one. I only wish it didn’t hurt my poor toe. “Sometimes I don’t know why I married you,” I despaired.
“Because of my brilliant animal metaphors,” he declared with grand confidence. “You are absolutely gorgeous in that dress, Veronica.”
“Even if I’m—”
He cut me off with a finger to my lips. “Nope, not going down that road again.”
I was glad he liked the dress. Charcoal-gray velvet cupped my rather large breasts, the wispy, soft gray skirt, gathered beneath my bosoms, fell loosely down the rather pronounced swell of my pregnancy, ending at mid-thigh. A breeze whipped up and I felt the air rush coolly across my pussy. Of course I was pantyless; I followed the Tenets of the Living Church.
Arm-in-arm we walked inside to the auditorium. All the pews or chairs or whatever had been here before had been removed, replaced with a large assortment of colorful cushions and floor pillows. Others had already started gathering, sitting on the comfortable pile. The Living Church had quickly learned the value of getting rid of the furniture when the worship orgy came around.
Marshal stretched out on a comfortable mound of pillows and cushions, half-reclining, and I sat on his lap. I could feel his hard cock beneath his slacks; I couldn’t resist wiggling about, teasing his cock.
Ashley and her wife Kristi arrived. They were as different as night and day, Ashley a stunningly-gorgeous, absolutely-voluptuous blonde bombshell, while Kristi was a plain, mousy-looking woman with brown hair. They did seem to love each other, even if Ashley was cock crazy and forced Kristi to clean her messy pussy after her various lovers were finished.
Bill and Erin walked in; the couple enjoyed playing at cuckoldry. Erin once told me she really didn’t like fucking other men, but it made Bill happy, or at least excited, to know she loved his cock better than any others.
Kevin and Jessie, accompanied by their stable of prostitutes, sauntered in right before the ceremony was supposed to start. Poor Lucy was freaking out—Kevin and Jessie were supposed to bless the happy couple. It was an interesting wedding tradition of the Living Church, started when our God performed the first wedding, marrying Earl to his daughter Marylou. Since He is such a lustful God, He fucked Marylou at the altar, blessing her union. Now every woman getting married has someone fuck her during the ceremony, and if you couldn’t get one of our Gods, you asked someone you cared about.
High Priestess Rose—she shared the duty with her twin sister, and wife, Daisy—stood at the front of the church and the musicians started playing an instrumental cover of ‘I Kissed a Girl’ by Katy Perry. Simultaneously, Lucy and Fatima stepped into the auditorium from two separate doors at the back.
I craned my neck to watch both; they were dressed identically, frilly, white babydolls that fell to their hips, sheer as misty glass revealing the curves of the their beautiful breasts. Of course, they wore no panties, only white garter belts holding up white, thigh high stockings. They each clutched a bouquet of blue and white flowers, held in their white-gloved hands.
They marched alone down two aisles that led up to rose and the altar. Dusky Fatima smiled happily, tears running down her cheeks and milk-faced Lucy beamed radiantly as they each took a step forward, paused, then another step. Halfway down, an older, Arab woman—whom I guessed was Fatima’s mother—reached out and squeezed her daughter’s hand. Lesbianism must run in the family because Fatima’s mother had a mature-looking Arab woman cuddled in her arms.
The Brides sat their bouquets on the altar, side-by-side, and took each other’s hands. Rose launched into her wedding sermon. It was short, personal, all about love and commitment. “Always put your wife before your other lovers; she is the one that should be first in your heart,” Rose preached, her eyes glancing to her twin sister lounging in the front row.
I wondered if Marshal and I would ever take lovers. We hadn’t really discussed it but, for now, we were content with each other. Even during the worship orgies, we would make love to each other, enjoying being watched or enjoying watching those around us make love.
“The brides have asked their loving employers, Jessie and Kevin, to bless their union,” Rose intoned.
Bubbly, blonde Jessie and her fiancé-pimp stood up. The front of Jessie’s skirt bulged; a strap-on dildo briefly poking out bright pink as she walked passed us. I lifted off Marshal’s lap, heard the metallic rasp of his zipper, his hard cock brushing the naked cheeks of my ass beneath my skirt. Around us, the other married couples were shifting about. As the new brides’ marriage was blessed, those of us already married would recommit to our spouses and bless each other.
Kevin’s cock thrust into Fatima’s cunt as Jessie pushed her pink dildo into Lucy’s. I moaned softly as I sank down onto my husband’s delicious cock. Erin knelt as her husband fucked her doggy style, Ashley and Kristi scissored their legs together, so their pussies rubbed, tribbing each other with passion. All these couples sharing their love; it was so romantic.
“I love you, Marshal!” I moaned, rising up on his cock as I fucked him reverse cowgirl.
His hands grasped my hips, slid beneath my skirt and around my body, and rubbed across my pregnant belly. “I love you so much,” he moaned, thrusting his dick up inside me. His hands slid higher, finding my heavy breasts.
I closed my eyes, lost to the rapture of our lovemaking. My legs pistoned my hips slowly, adding a twist to stir my husband’s cock inside me. His shaft speared me, rubbing excitedly about the sensitive flesh of my cunt; friction sparked, trying to ignite the tinder of my passion and create an inferno inside me.
“Oh, Gods,” I moaned, adding my passionate cries of worship and love to the chorus of ecstasy echoing through the auditorium. “I love your cock!”
“Fuck, fuck!” he moaned, his hand squeezing my tit painfully hard, fighting off the urge to cum. Marshal was ever the considerate lover, making sure I had my pleasure before taking his.
I ran my fingers through my bleached-blonde hair streaked with red highlights. The tinder inside me was about to blaze with passion, just a few more strikes. I rose; the delicious friction of his hard, thick cock caught the tinder inside me. I trembled, slamming down all the way onto his shaft as the fire of my orgasm burned through every nerve in my body.
“Yes, yes! I love you Marshal! Oh, Gods! Oh, fucking Gods!” I screamed
With a guttural grunt, my husband spilled his seed in me, and we blessed each other with our juices and love. Breathing heavily, I leaned back into him, his arms still wrapped around me, kissing my neck. I grabbed his hand and placed it on my belly and together we felt the miracle inside me, the child we created, kicking his little feet excitedly.
It was a beautiful ceremony.
After Kevin and Jessie blessed the two brides, Kevin’s cum running white down Fatima’s dusky thighs, the two held hands and repeated their vows in unison, “I pledge to love you, cherish you, support you, through the good times and the bad. To be a caring wife, a patient wife, your wife, from now until the end of time.” They simultaneously exchanged rings and kissed passionately, which quickly turned into some hot, tribbing action.
Erin was nice enough to suck my cock during that part. I may have cum just a few minutes before, fucking my wife doggie style during the blessing, but the sight of the two totally-in-love brides grinding their cunts together made me cum hard real fast.
The reception was being held in the former Megachurch’s fellowship hall, a spacious place adorned with small, round tables, blue and white candles flickering at the center. Buffet tables loaded with some excellent food lined the walls, along with an open bar. I was feeling pretty loose, a few champagne glasses had me pretty buzzed. My wife had disappeared, hunting for some guy to fuck her.
I looked around, saw her flirting with a nerdy looking teen, Patrick I think his name was. She looked so whorish, her arm wrapped around him, almost thrusting her tits into the young man’s face as she laughed at his joke. Then I noticed his hand slid up my wife’s thigh and bury between her legs, working a finger into her cheating cunt. Jealous stirred inside my stomach, lust thickened my cock, and piss filled my bladder.
I made my way to the bathroom, unable to shed the image of my wife draped over that boy, letting his disgusting hand finger her. I walked to the urinal, my cock too hard to piss. I gritted my teeth, struggling to force the sight of Erin out of my mind long enough to piss. I sighed; the torrent unleashed, splashing loudly into the urinal.
The door banged open, a women giggled, “I want your cock in me so bad!” It was my wife.
I didn’t turn to look as they stumbled behind me, kissing, moaning, bumping into stalls, rattling the doors. My wife moaned like a whore; a stall door banged open then closed, clothes rustled, then a wet noise and a low, throaty groan from my wife.
“Gods, I love your cock, Patrick!” she moaned. “Fuck me stud! I need a good fucking!”
“Mrs. Connar!” the teen moaned, their flesh slapping rapidly.
My cock was rock hard now as I stood rooted to the spot, staring at the urinal, straining to hear every last moan and slap of flesh. My stomach felt sick, sweat broke out across my skin. No matter how many times I heard Erin with another man, the lust and jealously always warred inside me. I gave my cock a nice stroke, wondering if she was bent over the toilet, letting the teenage stud fuck her from behind, or maybe he sat on the seat and Erin road him like a bucking bronco, rubbing her large tits in his face.
“I love your cunt, Mrs. Connar!” he moaned. “So juicy, so hot! So tight!”
“That’s because you’re feeling me up so much, stud!” Erin purred. “Fuck, you’re going to make me cum!”
“Yes, yes! Cum on my cock! I love making a woman cum!”
Erin laughed. “Not a girls?”
“I love an experienced woman,” he answered.
My wife’s moans grew higher pitched, short pants and moans as her climax approached. “Oh Patrick! Oh yes! Feel that? That’s my pussy cumming on your big dick!”
“Yes, yes!” Patrick moaned.
I waited for the signal. Sometimes Erin liked to get off, but not let the guy have his cum. I would burst in, threatening to kick the guy’s ass. She did it to guys that were assholes. But today, she just kept moaning, urging him to fuck her harder.
“I’m going to cum in you!” Patrick grunted. “I love cumming in a woman’s cunt!”
“Flood my cunt!”
The boy grunted and the slap of flesh stopped as he spilled inside my wife’s cunt. “Oh, Mrs. Connar, that was a great fuck.”
“It was,” she sighed.
“Why don’t we get out of here,” Patrick said. “We’ll go to my place and I can fuck you all night long.”
“And what about my husband?”
“Fuck him,” Patrick said. “There are plenty of women here he can entertain himself with.
Erin laughed, “Let me freshen up. Why don’t you go wait in your car for me.”
“Yes!” he exclaimed. I heard him hastily zip up his pants, then he burst out of the stall, running out of the bathroom.
“Umm, Bill, get in here and fuck me properly!” I heard my wife moaned. “I need a man after that boy!”
She was sitting on the toilet, her red skirt pushed up, her legs spread obscenely and milky cum ran thick out of her pussy. Her bleach-blonde hair matted her flushed face, and her hazel eyes fixed on my hard cock.
“I need a real man’s cock inside me,” she purred. “Fuck me! Make me cum over and over, stud!”
I pulled her up, then shoved her against the stall and thrust my cock into her sloppy pussy. “Is this what you wanted?”
“Yes,” she moaned. “Oh, Bill, I love your cock! So much better than that little boy’s cock. I didn’t even cum. I had to fake it!”
I fucked her hard, kissing at her neck, my dick driving out Patrick’s cum. She moaned, her mouth hot on my ear, her fingers raking my back, as I pounded her cunt. She felt wonderful, hot and slimy, tight on my cock.
“Oh, Bill!” she moaned. “Oh, Bill, your cock’s driving me nuts! My favorite cock! I’m going to cum!” Her body shook, her pussy spasming about me. “I love you! Love you, love you so much!”
I stared into her hazel eyes, shining with love. “I love you, too.”
I kept driving into her, sparking another orgasm that trembled slowly through her. Erin’s head whipped side-to-side against the painted metal of the stall, her blonde tresses whipping silkily across my face. My balls were tightening, and I fucked her harder. Every nerve in my body tensed, ready for the explosion of rapture about to come.
“Yes, yes!” I groaned, my cum spilling inside her, washing her pussy clean of Patrick’s jizz.
“Umm, that was a nice fuck,” she smiled.
“Why don’t we get out of here,” I told her. “We’ll go to my place, and I can fuck you all night long.”
As we drove out of the parking lot we passed Patrick sitting in a beat-up old Honda Subaru, hands nervously tapping on the steering wheel, eagerly awaiting my wife. Too bad for him, she had found a better cock to play with tonight.
I sat on my couch waiting for Ashley to come home so I could clean her up.
The wedding was lovely, the reception fun, but I wasn’t a party girl, so I left early. Ashley stayed behind. She may be the only lesbian in the world that loves cock more than pussy. An aberration caused by our God, Mark Glassner, during the Orgy last year. She could only go a few days before she just had to be fucked by some stud.
I glanced at the clock, it was past ten; I had spent the last four hours, eagerly waiting for my wife to come home while she was out cuckolding me. And like a good cuckold, I would be ready to clean up all the evidence of her adultery out of her pussy—with my tongue.
I may be the only lesbian that really likes the taste of cum.
The thought of actually touching a guy’s cock turns me off, but drinking his salty cum out of my wife’s beautiful pussy, well, that was another matter entirely. I absolutely loved to dig my tongue through Ashley’s nether lips, the feel of shaved vulva silk on my cheeks, as I quested for every drop of white goo I could find in the depths of her sweet pussy.
Gods, my pussy was on fire. I shifted my thighs, trying to ease some of the pressure on my clit. My hands crept down my thigh, wanting to put out the flames. No! I needed to wait for Ashley.
An engine growled; tires rubbed on cement; a door opened and slammed shut; keys jingled.
Ashley was home.
I fell to my knees before the front door as my beautiful goddess of a wife opened the door. Her red party dress was askew, her right, heavy boob hanging out, and two, dark hickeys bruised the pale orb. She licked her lips—lipstick smeared—and smiled down at me, platinum-blonde tresses, tousled, framing her Valkyrian face.
“I have something for you, Kristi,” she grinned, her fingers toying with the hem of her skirt, teasing me with the promise of her messy cunt. She hiked it up an inch, exposing more creamy thigh, a single trickle of cum glistening; I liked my lips. “I see you’re all excited.” She closed the door, leaning back against it.
“How was your night, dear?” I asked.
Ashley gave a giggle. “I met two hunky soldiers on leave from the Line.” Her grin grew more wicked. “Keeping Lilith’s abominations penned up in Seattle made them quite lusty.”
“Where did you find the soldiers?” I asked her. There weren’t any at the reception.
“I found a bar.” Her skirt hiked up slowly, my eyes fixed at the shadows between her leg, eager to see her shaved pussy messy with a soldier’s cum. “He was tall, Black, his muscles on his arm thicker than my thigh and he enjoyed sucking on my tits.” She touched the hickeys. “See how much he loved them.”
Her pussy was unveiled—flushed, swollen, labia spread open from the force of her lover’s cock, his cum leaking slowly out. Like a drug addict, I buried my face in her cunt, devouring the adulterous mix of seed and pussy juices. I drank down every last drop I could; it was ambrosia straight from my Norse beauty’s vessel.
“He took me right there in the bar,” Ashley purred, grinding her pussy on my face as I shoved my hands beneath my skirt and furiously frigged my clit, seeking the orgasms I had denied myself. “He sat on a table; pulled me onto his lap. His cock was huge, black…throbbing.” A shudder passed through her body. “And Gods it was big. ‘Come sit on papa-bear’s dick,’ he ordered me. ‘Gonna make you scream, White-girl!’ Oh Kristi, I screamed like a police siren!”
My fingers rapidly circled my clit, my orgasm crashing through me as pictured an obscenely huge, black cock spearing into my wife’s pussy, spreading her so widely open her pussy still gaped. I groaned into her pussy as my body spasmed in pleasure.
“Mmm, Kristi, his cock was amazing, so big it hurt. A wonderful, delicious ache. He grabbed my waist with dark hands and just started pumping me up and down on his cock, the muscles bulging in his forearms.” Her fingers gripped my hair, pulling my face tight against her cunt as she humped faster and faster. “I was his fuck-toy, just like you’re mine! He used me, not caring if I came; he just wanted to spill his cum in my hole!”
I shoved two fingers into my cunt, grinding the heel of my palm into my clit. One climax wasn’t enough; I needed more. I could see Ashley, her huge breasts flopping about as the Black soldier pumped her up and down on his cock; a human-sized fuck toy, like one of those fleshlights—a pussy in a cup.
“Oh Kristi, I came so hard, spasming wildly, and he just kept slamming me up and down. ‘Got a nice cunt, for a White-chick,’ he moaned. ‘All you white-chicks are crazy for papa-bear’s dick. None of them peckerhead White-boys can rival my trouser snake!’ ‘No, no!’ I moaned back. ‘I love your big, Black cock!’ Oooh, Kristi, I came a second time.”
So did I, almost falling backwards with strength of the orgasm that rocked my body; only my arms wrapped tightly around my wife’s waist kept me upright.
“Umm, Kristi, lick out all that Black man’s cum! He felt like a fire hose flooding my pussy when he shot his load!” Ashley’s hips humped one last time; her body quivered, fresh pussy juices flooding my mouth as she came. “Oh, my Gods, you have a great tongue, Kristi.”
Breathing heavily, I pulled my face out of her cunt. I could feel her sticky juices on my chin, my cheeks, running wetly down my neck and staining my blouse. “Thank you,” I answered.
“I love you, Kristi,” Ashley smiled, stroking my head. “How’d I ever get so lucky to have you for a wife?”
I couldn’t think of anything clever or witty to answer her question, so I just leaned against her thigh, enjoying the feel of silk skin on my cheek. “I love you, Ashley.”
Ashley gave a wicked giggle. “Do you want to hear about the second soldier?”
I looked up, nodding eagerly.
“Then come to join me in the bedroom.” She walked past me, my eyes glued to her ass writhing beneath her red skirt as she disappeared down the hallway that led to our bedroom.
When I entered our bedroom, her dress lay in a messy pile on the floor, and she lay stretched out on our bed, a pillow beneath her stomach, raising her bubbly butt up into the air, a mountain of pale, smooth flesh as majestic as Mount Rainier.
“The second soldier was White,” Ashley purred. “Tall, skinny, with dreamy eyes. His hair was shaved off, save for a mohawk buzzed very short. A rangers buzz, he called it. His cock wasn’t anyway near as large as the Black soldier.” She grabbed her ass, pulling her cheeks apart. Her brown asshole appeared, winking at me and leaking milky fluid. “But that was okay, he was more than big enough for my tight ass.”
I licked my lips, staring at my drug—a man’s cum leaking out of my wife’s holes. I pounced on her, burying my face between her pillowy cheeks and leaking the sour-salty cum that leaked out before sealing my lips around her asshole and sucking.
“I love you so much,” Ashley sighed and launched into her story while I happily licked her clean and frigged my clit.
Joy fluttered inside me. I was her cuckold and proud of it.
“I’m so happy for you,” Mother told me in Arabic as she walked my new wife and I to our awaiting limo.
“Thank you, Mother,” I told her, hugging and kissing her on the cheek.
Mother and Lucy embraced warmly. “You take care of my little girl,” Mother warned her.
“I will, Mother,” Lucy answered respectfully.
A smile creased Mother’s lips and she kissed my wife on both cheeks. “Have fun on your honeymoon, my daughters.”
Mother was a changed person since Father had died last December, succumbing to the Wormwood Plague. She was suddenly free from all of the expectations her family, her husband, and Muslim society had placed on her. When she had been a teenager she had fallen in love with Tarah, but neither girl had the courage to follow their hearts while living in the West Bank. So Mother submitted to her arranged marriage with Father and tried to find happiness with her children.
After Father died, she sought out Tarah, and, with my help, found her living outside Detroit. Tarah was a widower, her husband had been killed in an Israeli airstrike years before, and she had fled to the US as a refugee. The pair had a tearful reunion in March, and had picked up their relationship. It was so romantic to see them finally have the courage to overcome our culture’s prejudices.
I rubbed the faint scars on my wrist; I knew just how hard it was to face those prejudices—I lacked the courage and took the easy way out. I didn’t care how my suicide attempt made Lucy feel; I had been selfish, self-centered. It was your loved ones that pay when you kill yourself.
“Why do you look so sad?” my bride asked me as the limo pulled away from the church.
“I’m not, just thinking of past mistakes,” I told her and smiled.
She snuggled against me. “Tonight’s a happy night,” she told me, her lips sweet as she kissed me. “So let’s make some happy memories.”
“Six times tonight wasn’t enough for you?” I asked her. “You had me in every place in the church.”
She grinned, “I can never have enough of my wife.” I melted to her as she kissed me again. There was a naughty glint in her eyes, and she whispered, “The screen’s down, let’s give the driver a show.”
I laughed wickedly. “You’re so bad, Lucy!”
“Aren’t I?” she grinned, sliding a hand beneath my sheer babydoll, finding my large breasts and giving my nipple a playful pinch; it felt wonderful, pleasure coursing from my little nub down to my moist pussy.
She pushed the nightgown up, exposing my heavy orbs, her lips and tongue feasting on my nipples; she went back and forth, teasing each hard nub, while I writhed on the cool leather of the limo’s seat.
“Oh, Lucy,” I moaned. “Gods, I love you! I love you so much!”
“Good,” she beamed. Then she opened up a cabinet. “Ooh, they did leave the toy in here.”
“Toy?” I asked her.
She pulled out a double-headed dildo, made of translucent purple rubber which flopped about as she triumphantly held it up. “Let’s fuck each other!”
“You wicked, wonderful wife!”
“I’ll take that as a yes!” she declared.
She sat down on the seat, entwining her legs with mine, scooting closer, as if we were about to scissor. Then she sucked one end of the dildo into her mouth, getting it nice and wet, before slowly pushing it into my pussy. I groaned, throwing my head back, as my cunt was invaded by the thick rubber.
“Oh, Lucy!” I groaned, enjoying the small ridges that rubbed deliciously on the inside of my sheath.
I watched the other end disappear into her shaved pussy, her small slit spread obscenely wide. She kept pushing it in, driving the dildo deeper into both our pussies. My breasts heaved as I shivered in rapture. Our hungry cunts swallowed more and more rubber until only a few inches separated our holes.
That’s when we fuked each other. We’d thrust our hips back and forth, sometimes the dildo driving in and out of my cunt, other times it remained buried inside me and pumped in and out of Lucy’s pussy. Her breasts, cute, little B cups, jiggled beneath the sheer white of her babydoll, and her clit peaked out of its hood, brushing against the toy as it thrust inside her.
“Oh, yes!” Lucy moaned. “Fuck me, Fatima! Make me cum!”
I humped harder, using my arms and legs to drive that dildo deep inside her, inside me. The ecstasy was wonderful, the ridges of the toy driving me wild. “I’m so full!” I panted. “So Godsdamn full!”
“Oh, Fatima! Oh, my Fatima!” she howled over and over.
“Gonna cum!” I groaned.
“Yes, yes, let’s cum together!”
I screeched, my body convulsing as the toy’s ridges sent my body into orgasmic shivers. I loved this feeling, I loved that my sweet Lucy made me feel so wonderful, so alive. So loved. Our eyes met, her blue eyes staring into my dark, and we watched each other cum, sharing our love and lust.
We both panted, leaving the dildo buried in our cunts, connecting us together. I couldn’t move, that cum was so amazing. I’m just so glad I found the courage a year ago to be with Lucy, to reject being a good Muslim girl and do what makes me happy.
I felt a tear run hot down my cheek. “Thank you,” I told her. “Thank you for helping me find happiness.”
Epilogue – Kevin Mattock
Fifteen year old Yun, our youngest escort, pumped her hips hard as she rode my cock. I lay on a pile of cushions in the reception hall. The wedding was winding down, and I was pretty remove sure Jessie and I would be leaving after we finished up with the Rhee sisters. Jessie lay gasping next to me as Iseul, Yun’s eighteen-year-old sister, ate my fiancée out.
“I love your cock, Kevin!” Yun moaned as she rode me.
I reached up, fingered her budding breast and dark nipple pierced with a golden ring. The gold stood out against her dark nipple and I couldn’t resist giving it a tug; her cunt tightened on my cock. She grinned, and leaned in, shifting the way my cock rubbed through her teenage pussy.
Rose Cunningham plopped down beside me, naked, her blue eyes twinkling with mirth. I knew it was Rose and not Daisy because of the braid of gold hair looped casually over her shoulder to dangle between her round breasts.
“Can we talk?” she asked.
“Right,” I nodded, remembering our conversation from earlier today. “About what?”
Rose reached over, fingered Yun’s pierced nipple. Apparently I wasn’t the only person that couldn’t resist tugging on them. “The Church is expanding. Our Gods have plans for this world, and the Theocracy needs trustworthy people. You and Jessie have always been fervent supporters of the Church, and you are the perfect candidates to spearhead a project.”
“Shoot,” I said.
“Back in the old times, temples used to employ beautiful, young priestesses as prostitutes,” she answered. “You’d pay to lie with her and then worship your god as you experienced the joy of her flesh.”
“And you want to add temple prostitutes to the Living Church?” I asked her. I remembered reading about the priestesses of Aphrodite and other sex goddesses.
“Actually, it was Mary’s idea,” Rose confided. “It would mean you and Jessie would become bishops; the second highest rank below me and Daisy.”
“Bishops, huh,” I said.
“Eventually, you’d be responsible for a large swath of churches, say all of them in North America, once we get things organized.”
I glanced at Jessie; she sat on her elbow watching. “What do you think?”
“We’d be administering the offerings collected by our priestesses?” Jessie asked.
Rose smiled. “Of course our Gods would understand if you wanted to have a lifestyle fitting with such an exalted rank. There is one stipulation.”
“What?” I asked.
“You’d have to be bound to them,” she answered. “Swear your souls to them for eternity. As long as they live, you would never age. You’d be together forever, serving them, helping them rule the world.”
I glanced at Jessie, saw the smile play on her lips. Eternal youth in exchange for our souls and the power to help them shape the world. And wasn’t that a good thing? We, the survivors of the Best Buy Incident, we were living proof of how much better off we were thanks to their influence. Marks actions had finally given me the courage to ask my longtime crush out. Jessie had finally noticed me. Lucy and Fatima had found each other, as well as Stacy and Rosalita and a half-dozen other couples that had formed that day. Not only were there new relationships, but old ones were strengthened. Erin and Bill had found a new way to express their love for each other. There was the amazing closeness of Marshal and Veronica. Even Kristi, who, unlike her wife Ashley, hadn’t been at the incident, had found a new form of happiness.
So why wouldn’t I leap to serve them? We already worshiped them. “I think we can live with that.”
The End of the Tales of the Best Buy Incidents
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