Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32
I hated Em, and hated even more that I was stuck inside the cramped dorm room with her for the whole senior year at high school. I hated cheerleaders in general, but her even more. She was a bitch, that pretty, perfect looking kind of girl everyone took for an angel, with long, blond hair, full lips and boobs that drew every male’s attention. She flaunted her toned legs on high heels every opportunity she got and never needed to pay a single cent when she went out. She played everyone around her without a second thought. And worst of all, she played me and I knew it. “Sally,” her sugary sweet voice called me from the room. “I’m just taking a shower,” I hollered back, just in the process of soaping up my leg. “I don’t care! Now!” I sighed and rolled my eyes, but nonetheless quickly dried myself enough so I wouldn’t leave a trail of water, wrapped a towel around me and tip-toed into our room. Em was lounging on the black leather couch her parents had bought her, her tablet with the pink cover on her lap, and she was giggling. “I hate you,” I hissed at her and pushed the strand of mousy brown hair back that was stuck to my cheek. She looked up with a grin. “I know. Now drop the towel, sweetbuns. I want to play a game.” “Fuck, no! Please,” I begged. “Not today! Today’s Monica’s party, you know that.” “Of course I know. That’s why I want to play. Now be a good girl, Sally, and do as you’re told.” I hated her with all my heart, hated that sweet pout with which she looked at me, hated the way she ran her finger along her dress’ cleavage and pulled the fabric almost, just almost, far enough down so I could see her yummy, rosy nipple while she cutely bit her lip. I dropped the fluffy towel and stepped closer until my shins bumped against the couch, then splayed my legs shoulder width apart without being prompted, as always when she wanted to play games. She looked me up and down, my too-small, barely B-cup breasts that looked almost boyish in comparison to hers, then to my twat that I kept bare and smooth as she had ordered. My inner lips peeked out quite visibly. Her eyes went back to her iPad, probably to read another of the wicked stories she found on the internet and liked so much, but her inattention was part of the game. She reached out casually, running her hand up my body until it found a nipple. She pinched it hard and rolled it between her fingers. I hated that my breathing became harder. Her hand travelled down again, leaving me feeling one-sided, out of balance, one nipple soft, the other hard as stone and hot. She pushed two fingers up my twat, knowing that the little play had been enough to get my juices running, and they slid in without effort. I hated that I couldn’t contain my gasp. She finger-fucked me, there’s no other fitting name for it, shoved her digits hard and fast up my needy twat. Every so often, her thumb scratched my clit and made me gasp and moan. The heat built up between my thighs and rose higher with each careless thrust, and I could feel the raging hot inferno waiting for me at the horizon. My hips started trembling and my breath flew hard. The pleasure started spiraling and made my clit and nipples ache. Higher and higher my lust soared, and I could feel my toes touch the delicious edge and… “Stop!” I cried with monumental effort. She withdrew her fingers. Ragged pants escaped my throat, and tears of Escort Karaköy need filled my eyes. “You can finish your shower now,” Em told me without looking up and made a dismissive gesture, “but you know the rules.” God, how I hated these rules! I had to turn the water to almost freezing, and yet I had to steer clear of my running twat to keep myself from accidentally cumming. I soaped my hair and rinsed it, then, finally clean, stepped out of the shower and dried off. I slipped into the lacy, one size too small panties that Em had laid out for me and pulled on the skin-tight, dark red minidress. I went barefoot, as it was still too early to risk tearing the sheer stockings before the party even started. “Sally!” I fucking hated her calling me like a servant! I pattered back into the room. She had moved to sit on the corner of my bed and motioned for me to come closer. I cursed when I saw the thick, black rubber dildo in her hand. “I just showered,” I complained, knowing that my thighs would soon be covered with fresh juices. She just shook her head in exasperation and sat its base down on her knee. I waddled over, bunching up the skirt around my waist and sliding my freshly donned panties all the way down my legs again, then crouched with wide knees over the monstrous artificial appendage. I reached down to part my pussy lips, then slowly lowered myself on the dildo’s head. No moving upwards was the rule here. My pussy was spread wider and wider, the bulbous head pushing inside me and stretching my walls to their limits. Small twinges of pain accompanied the intrusion but were washed away by the incredible, delicious, debauched feeling of the rubber cock. It was only halfway in, and I was already mewling like a cat in heat with every further millimeter of the monster I managed to force inside. My thighs shook and I could barely breathe. Em’s hands gripped the tops of my thighs. “Should I help you?” she asked in her sweetest voice. I hated that I wasn’t allowed to decline her. “Yes! Please!” I gasped, squirming on the monster and barely able to form words because my whole body trembled so much. She dug her fingernails deep into my skin and pressed down on my thighs with all her weight, and I arched my body, threw back my head and cried out when the smooth rubber was pushed all the way inside, like a huge fist that went up into my womb. Cramps ran through my lower body but slowly subsided, and I took in a shuddering breath. Em spit on her fingers and started to rub my swollen pearl in quick circular motions. “You’re such a needy, perverted slut,” she chastised. “I can’t believe you let me stick that inside you.” The shame slid like burning blanket over my skin. Drawn-out, high-pitched moans flew from my lips, and the delicious heat… “Stop!” I cried once more, and all movement ceased. Tears of unfulfilled longing streaked down my cheeks. How I hated that I wasn’t allowed to cum! Em granted me five minutes of reprieve to cool down enough that the mere act of slipping the black monster from my twat wouldn’t set me off. But then she slapped my thigh, my sign that I needed to get up, and I pulled myself off the beast with little whimpers. The rubber only hesitantly left my twat with perverted, sucking sounds. My snatch gaped open so wide I could have stuck three fingers inside without touching, and Kayaşehir escort I knew it would take another ten minutes until it would close up all the way again. As always, I got onto my knees, caught my hands behind my back and started lapping up my musky juices that coated the rubber and made it gleam while fresh secretions dribbled wetly down my thighs. I hated how deliciously debased that made me feel! Half an hour later, I was just sorting through a drawer for a lighter when her arms encircled me from behind. The front of my dress was pulled up and the soft, slightly scratchy feeling of wool slipped down my tummy and inside my panties. “No!” I gasped. “Not that!” A giggle filled my ear and her gloved hand rubbed up and down inside my slit. The wool quickly soaked up any moisture that was there and then slid roughly through my tender folds, feeling like cruel sanding paper every time it ground over my clit. My poor snatch grew hotter and hotter with each stroke, but fresh moisture seeped out, keeping Em’s ruthless caresses just barely bearable. The pain also stroked a wicked pleasure, and soon I found my hips eagerly meeting each of her strokes and jerking impatiently. My grunts turned into moans, and I caught myself encouraging her to rub even harder. I hated when that happened. The trembling started in my loins, then spread down my thighs and knees, until my legs shook and delirious pleasure surged from my raw twat. My heart jumped in joy, there it was, the cliff that had been far too long denied me, and… I whimpered, “Stop!” My whole body shook, and I sobbed. Em’s hand slipped away, and she pulled off the glove and handed it to me to wash. I glanced towards the clock. Half an hour was left until we had to leave for the party. Twenty-five minutes later, I had just put on my shoes, elegant, barely existing sandals with sluttishly high heels, when I heard my name again. I stumbled out of the tiny walk-in closet, unused to such heels. Em was dressed to kill in a sheer mesh top that showed off the expensive bra she wore underneath and would make everyone around her drool. Her black, short leather skirt went perfectly with it, and the tight, laced, shiny high heeled boots that went up to her thighs were just to die for. “Come here,” she told me with a smile and I complied. She gestured to my crotch. I pulled up my skirt once again, my fingers trembling. This was new, and I had no idea what she had planned. I pulled down my panties and sighed softly. My pussy lips were red and swollen, and the gusset sticky with my honey. “Randy little thing,” Em commented and pulled a small jar from her purse. “You know what this is?” she asked, holding it up for me to inspect. It was dark red, with some brighter spots, and at first, I had not the faintest idea. Then she pulled one of these cheap, semi-transparent rubber gloves from her purse and put it on, and a knot of dread formed in my stomach. “No,” I protested meekly. Em smiled brightly at me and unscrewed the jar, then dipped a finger in and lifted out a good scoop. “No, you don’t know, or, no, please not this?” “Not this,” I whimpered, now certain that I didn’t want chilli paste on my already flaming parts. “But you know the rules, Sally. Once the game has started…” She held out her finger until it was just an inch from my poor twat. “Spread yourself Küçükçekmece escort bayan open and cover your twat with the paste. Be a good girl. Do it for me.” “Oh god, Em, please,” I begged, but I already knew I’d find no compassion. My hips trembled, but I spread my labia apart and moved forward until my twat touched the red goo. I bent my knees so her finger slid upwards through my folds and coated them with paste. She helped by wiggling her finger a little once it reached my clit. At first, I only felt her touch. Then my twat grew warm. After seconds, it started to burn, a burn that quickly turned into stinging, and I whimpered softly. “Good girl,” she whispered and put the jar back in her purse, then pulled off the glove. She pulled up my panties herself this time and even smoothed down my skirt. I hated that she could make me do practically everything! * * * * The party was just a few blocks down the road from campus, so we walked. Each step rubbed my swollen pussy lips together, and my twat boiled and burned painfully. I shuffled awkwardly behind, trying to keep up with Em’s determined strides and trying not to worry about my creamy juices which had started to drench my panties once more and would soon make them overflow. My nipples were hard like steel, rubbing on the dress’ fabric with every step and stoking my arousal. Suddenly, Em turned left into a cul-de-sac. “Hey!” I protested. “That’s not the way to the party!” She stopped and turned around, the biggest grin I’d ever seen on her lighting up her face, and my stomach plummeted. “We’re going to a different party.” Her smile became patronizing. “Don’t worry about Monica; I called her.” “But…” I started to object. The short widening of her eyes silenced me. I hung my head and followed after her, a strange buzz starting in my tummy. She always did that — change plans at the last minute whenever I was all hyper about something, just to drive home how much control I let her have over me; I should have expected it. We approached a big, white, wooden house with a few steps leading up to a large porch. “How’s your twat?” Em asked out of the blue when we were in front of the entrance, and she spun around to face me. “What do you think? It stings like hell,” I growled back at her. “I bet you’re horny as hell too, aren’t you?” I tried to look away, but she gripped my chin and made me look straight at her. “You know I am,” I spat at her. “Bunch up your skirt.” “Fuck! Not here, Em!” The porch was brightly lit. Anyone from the street could see us. Anyone opening the door could see us! “Please! Not here!” She didn’t even bother to look affronted. “You know the rules,” she simply told me once again in that sweet, seductive voice. I took a few deep, shuddering breaths. I pulled up the hem my dress until my lower body was completely exposed, then hooked my thumbs under the waistband of my soaked panties. I was pretty sure their gusset was nothing but a single, dark stain by now, but Em’s grip on my chin prevented me from looking. At her nod, I pushed the panties down and let them slide to my knees, then spread my legs as far as this allowed. She grinned, and then her hand started to rub my twat in hard strokes, up and down, pressing down hard, completely mindless of its irritated state. Tears sprang to my eyes, both from the painful, humiliating treatment and from shame over the arousal that flamed up the moment her fingers touched me. Her hand flew through my folds and my hips jerked to meet it. Her eyes bore into mine so she could catch the tiny flicker that always preceded my climax. She knew she couldn’t trust me to stop her any longer. My short, hard panting filled the air.