Because I was only 10-years-old that summer, and skinny besides, my parents thought I was too young to take the job of dog walker for Mrs. Patterson's big yellow Labrador, Rockford. But with enough childish persistent on my part, and a few tears, they finally relented.
If only to teach me a lesson.
“Amber, that big dog will drag you right down the street,” my father argued, shaking his head. “But, since you insist, we'll let you try it for a couple of days.”
“Thank you, Daddy,” I told him brightly. “I'll be fine. You'll see.”
As it worked out, I was more than fine.
And not only did Rockford prove to be an exceptionally well-behaved dog for me, a regular sweetheart of a dog, it was as if he actually fell in love with me. Like, for real love. In a shockingly sexual way.
“I work long hours,” our new neighbor informed me. “So you need to walk Rockford twice each day, once in the morning and again in the afternoon.”
Mrs. Patterson was recently divorced, a statuesque blonde in her early 20's who dressed in professional outfits suitable for the law firm she worked at as a paralegal downtown. That first day, she was in a very smart business suit, a dark jacket and a matching knee-length skirt, a crisp white blouse and low heels.
She was exactly the kind of successful woman I wanted to grow up to be.
“Here's my key,” she told me. “Make yourself at home.”
And that's exactly what I did. Which, of course, led to all the weirdness.
Rockford was a happy dog, it seemed, easy to walk in spite of his large size, but he had a somewhat disconcerting habit of sniffing at my crotch or my butt whenever we were in Mrs. Patterson's bedroom. It was as if he knew that's where the fun stuff always happened; the dirty fun stuff.
Her bedroom, I mean, not in my crotch or my butt.
But, you must be wondering, what was I doing in her bedroom?
Truth be told, I was a little snoop. So, even that first morning when I'd returned from walking the big dog I made certain the front door was locked and then went straight to Mrs. Patterson's dresser.
Rockford happily followed me into her bedroom, then stayed almost on top of me while I went through her top drawers. I was in just my lightweight cotton shorts and a little tee-shirt, and it was there when he first startled me by pushing his nose into the crack of my butt from behind-burrowing his face right in there.
“Hey!” I jerked. “Rockford, no! That's not nice.”
And I pushed his head away, turning slightly as well, and he made a little snuffling noise in his throat and backed away. But he looked so crestfallen that I immediately felt bad and patted the top of his head.
It wasn't his fault after all. He was just a dog, following his natural instincts.
Anyway, it was in her second drawer, hidden under piles of her lacy underwear, that I found Mrs. Patterson's vibrator.
I swallowed hard at the sight of it, that moist little tingle I knew so well starting between my legs. Then I brought it out to better study it.
“This looks like fun,” I turned to Rockford. And I swear his deep chocolate eyes seemed to sparkle in response. “Before my big sister moved out, she used one of these on me almost every night. We both came so much, we could barely wake up in the morning…”
If that big yellow dog had any further response to my admission, my confession to lesbian-style sex with my own older sister, he didn't show it. Although he did seem particularly alert at seeing what I'd found.
I dropped down onto the edge of Mrs. Patterson's bed, still holding the vibrator. It was all black bumpy plastic, about 8” long, with a slightly curved tip. The speed control was on the bottom, a simple chrome ring that also turned it on.
I could tell it wasn't a cheap one.
“Let's just keep this between us,” I said to Rockford. And his ears perked right up, my words directed to him like that. “It'll be our little secret.”
While he stood watching me, I slipped down my shorts and panties, letting them fall down around my tennis shoes. Then I settled back on the bed on my elbows and spread my knees apart, my hairless little slit opening wetly as I did so.
His big eyes went to my pussy, and it was obvious he was about to come to me, to my pussy, actually, his overly-sensitive sniffer obviously working just fine, but a severe look from me stopped him in his tracks.
“Stay!” I told the big dog. “Just ignore me. This won't take too long.”
And I turned on the vibrator, thrilling to the sound of it, before touching just the very tip of it to my tiny clit. I jerked with a sharp little sigh at the delicious sensations instantly rippling through my crotch, my knees spreading even wider of their own accord as my heartbeat leaped into top speed.
“Oh, God!” I gasped. “I forgot what this felt like!”
And for the next minute or so I lay there on Mrs. Patterson's bed panting as I slid the tip of the vibrator up and down the length of my pussy, getting myself into high gear, as it were, before slipping the first inch of it into me.
“Ohhhh, God!” I breathed shakily, my bare inner thighs trembling. “I'm already going to come! Uhhh! Oh, God…”
And I did come, gasping with the illicit pleasure of it.
My cunt was so slick it was an easy matter to slide another inch or so of Mrs. Patterson's black vibrator up into me. I then began quickly fucking myself with it, with just those first two inches, pushing it up my pulsing cunt and opening myself up as wave after wave of that first orgasm washed over me.
It lasted a very long time, that initial climax. After, as it gradually subsided, I looked to the big dog.
He was still standing in place, watching me intently, his tongue lolling out, his clear eyes bright-as if he actually had some idea of what I was doing. And for all I knew, he did know. It was Mrs. Patterson's vibrator I was using, after all, so maybe he'd stood right there watching her use it on herself.
It made perfect sense, when I thought about it.
“I need to come again,” I told Rockford. “This thing's so great!”
It was, in fact, much stronger than the small white vibrator my sister always used on me. That'd been a simple 5” almost-toy that she'd fucked me with night after night, getting us both worked up and shaky before proceeding to the main event, which was the oral fun we also shared.
I was still a virgin, at my young age, then and now, but early gymnastic classes had opened me up down there long ago. So my little underage cunt became fair game for a variety of penis-shaped objects after my big sister showed me how: hot dogs, carrots, small shampoo bottles, even the handles of our electric toothbrushes.
“Oh, God, here I go again,” I announced to Rockford. “This thing makes me come so damn fast! Ohhhh…”
And as I came again, my overflowing juices running down into the already-slick crack of my narrow little butt, I pushed Mrs. Patterson's black vibrator still another inch or so into me. I began again fucking myself with it in a mounting frenzy, my hand almost a blur, my bare thighs repeatedly tensing with my efforts as my breathing grew even harder and faster.
“Oh, yes, yes, yes! It feels so good! Uhhhh, God…”
And in that delirious state, as my second orgasm was followed almost immediately by a third, I suddenly realized Rockford had his large head between my skinny legs and was eagerly licking the salty sheen of my oozing natural lubrication from my bare inner thigh.
With his moist tongue moving dangerously close to my little pussy!
“Rockford!” I gasped. “What are you doing…?”
But rather than stopping him, I was soon kicking off my shorts, panties and tennis shoes and putting my bare feet up on the edge of the bed. Spreading my legs even wider to give him better access, I was wide open to him.
“Oh, God, you bad dog!”
And, no surprise, not too many moments later I'd slid the vibrator up to my clit, pressing it into me there, while Rockford enthusiastically licked and lapped his way right into the center of my sopping cunt.
“This feels too good to believe!” I told him. “Don't stop, don't stop! Ohhh God, Rockford, you're killing me…good dog, good dog!”
And so, for the next half-hour or so, I lay on the edge of Mrs. Patterson's bed with my skinny legs spread wide, using Mrs. Patterson's black vibrator on my sweet young clit while Mrs. Patterson's big yellow dog licked my cunt until I was literally exhausted from too many orgasms to count.
Oh, one other thing:
After I'd had so many climaxes that my legs were too shaky to even stand up, it became obvious to me that Rockford had gotten himself into a state of excitement as well-his large reddish dog cock was sticking out from its hairy sheath, swollen and throbbing. It was the first one I'd ever seen like that.
It just wasn't something a regular 10-year-old girl ever saw.
“Are you okay, boy?” I asked him, sliding off the bed, my smooth brow knitted in concern. “Does it hurt, being so swollen up like that?”
He just looked at me with that sweet doggy face as I knelt there beside him.
And he was panting as I'd been doing earlier, clearly needing some kind of attention, so I reached out and did what any decent young pet-lover would do: I jacked him off, just as I'd seen those teen girls do to those teen boys in so many of the dirty videos my big sister had shown me online.
Of course, many of those girls used their mouths on the boy's cocks but I wasn't about to do that for Rockford! Still…
“Do you like that?” I asked him, my hand moving quickly back and forth.
His big cock was warm under my small fingers, the thick shaft of it pulsating with his apparent approval at what I was doing to him. So I did it even faster, the big yellow dog breathing harder with what I hoped was well-deserved pleasure.
Fair is fair, after all.
“Does it feel good, Rockford?”
In response, his solid doggy-dick suddenly jumped in my hand, jerking within my tight grasp as a literal river of grayish dog-semen jetted out of him. I watched in youthful amazement as his cum spurted many times, long strands of it, a huge puddle of his jism (my sister's word!) forming on the hardwood floor of Mrs. Patterson's bedroom.
“Oh, my God, I hope that doesn't leave a stain!”
Thankfully, we'd at least missed her expensive-looking throw rug.
When I finally locked up the house and went home, after cleaning everything up, my mother took one look at me and asked, “How was your first time as a dog walker, dear? Did that big dog wear you out?”
I just gave her a little smile and a nod.
“He sure did,” I admitted. “He's a real handful.”
As anyone older or wiser might expect, I could only get away for so long with my mornings and afternoons of illicit sexual relief from Rockford and Mrs. Patterson's vibrator collection. I'd found several by then, her vibrators, hidden in many places, a variety of sizes and shapes that had to be seen to be believed.
And yes, by then I was fucking myself hard and long with my favorites, always careful to wash my own sticky juices off of each one and return it to exactly where I'd found it.
Or so I thought.
Admittedly, I'd sometimes come so many times, from Rockford's eager tongue and my weapon of choice that particular day, I was often almost woozy when it was time to remember what went where.
Yet I always had enough energy to masturbate my new best friend, aiming his spurting cock into an old face towel I kept hidden in Mrs. Patterson's basement. After a couple of weeks, it was crusty and stiff with all the dog cum he'd shot into it, but as soon as he saw it he always knew it was his turn at our mutual fun.
Until:
“Amber!” Mrs. Patterson gasped, in horrified surprise, throwing open her bedroom door with a bang. “And Rockford! What are you two doing!?”
I was mortified, of course.
She'd caught us that morning in one of the more embarrassing positions.
I was on my knees on her throw rug, my bare little 10-year-old ass sticking out as I leaned over her bed with a slender red vibrator buried and buzzing away in my wetly gripping preteen cunt.
All the while with Rockford enthusiastically licking into my throbbing asshole from behind.
It was sort of a double treat for me, that 'front door-back door' thing my sister taught me, one that gave me fantastic cunt-and-anus-spasming orgasms. When I went off, it was always like I was being electrified directly through my crotch, and right into my butt, a far better sensation than it sounded like.
“Oh, no!” I cried out, in both fear and acute embarrassment. “I'm so sorry!”
But my blonde employer simply ordered, “Don't move, you little slut! I mean it, freeze right there.”
And I did, freezing in place but beginning to cry, knowing she'd tell my parents and ruin my young life for all time, yet uncertain what she planned on doing next. I mean, her slim red vibrator was still humming away inside of me and I couldn't make a move to turn it off.
“Get back, Rockford,” she commanded. “Back up!”
As the tears poured out of my eyes, I suddenly felt Mrs. Patterson's gorgeous face pressing into the hot crevice between the cheeks of my trembling young ass. Almost immediately, her hot tongue found my asshole and began licking wetly into it, exactly as Rockford had done.
“Oh, my God!” I managed, so shocked to the core it was as if I was dreaming. “Mrs. Patterson!”
“Just enjoy it,” she told me. “I knew you were a dirty little slut the first time I saw you-and that if I came home early, sooner or later I'd catch you doing something obscene with either my vibrators or my big dog…”
“Ohhh God,” I moaned then, squirming my bare ass back into her face.
She'd pushed her tongue past my twitching sphincter muscle, probing so deeply into my hot asshole it was as if she was tongue-fucking my butt. I came for about the fifth time then, Rockford's wet tongue and Mrs. Patterson's humming red vibrator earlier giving me four insanely-satisfying climaxes in a row.
“I'm coming so hard,” I groaned, my youthful pussy alive with shuddering spasms of stunning relief as I almost passed out from the pleasure of it. “Oh, God, Mrs. Patterson, please stick your tongue even farther up my asshole!”
And that's exactly what she did.
Her long slender body was flawless, as I'd already guessed, Mrs. Patterson's uptilted breasts firm with arousal. And her large pink nipples were so swollen I thought they might explode.
It was if the pointy tips were actually vibrating on their own.
“Here's what he needs,” she said throatily, meaning our favorite pet. “A nice blow-job to get him warmed up.”
And this perfectly gorgeous naked blonde goddess pulled a throw-pillow off her bed, put it underneath the big Labrador for her head, then lay down under him and took his rigid cock in her mouth.
She began sucking it wetly.
As I watched, I could see her excitement growing, which caused my own excitement to suddenly catch fire again. It looked like fun, I thought, sucking that huge cock as Rockford stood there, watching me with those big brown eyes of his.
“I want to suck him, too,” I admitted, surprising even me. “I thought about it every time I jacked him off, but I didn't have the nerve.”
Mrs. Patterson stopped for a moment, and gave me a look.
“I'll suck him until he gets close to shooting off,” she told me. “But I want to watch him come in your mouth. Will you do that for me?”
I didn't have to think long.
“Okay.”
With her full lips again wrapped around Rockford's cock, her slender hand reached up to masturbate him at the same time. I got down on my knees to see better. To watch the most professional young woman in the entire neighborhood give her large yellow dog a blow job while jacking him off at the same time.
Unreal, but highly exciting for me.
Mrs. Patterson was taking her time with the very fat dog dick she was attending to, her perfect pink tongue wetly licking at it, up and down the entire length, as Rockford stood over her.
“Amber, come around to the other side and suck Rockford's cock with me,” she suggested, breaking my reverie. “He's been a exceptionally good boy and I think he deserves it.”
“I'll say. He helped me come four times before you caught us.”
So I moved around and stretched out on the other side of the big Labrador, bringing my mouth up to his dangling cock as soon as my gorgeous employer moved her own mouth away to give me room.
Rockford jerked at my first touch, but a moment later I could feel his thick dog-penis throbbing away as I licked it wetly up and down the way Mrs. Patterson had done.
“I can't believe I'm doing this!” I marveled. “Really, I'm actually licking a big dog's cock!”
Mrs. Patterson watched me for several more fun minutes, her breathing growing slowly more ragged as her own excitement mounted, her free hand (I noticed!) soon beginning to masturbate herself slowly.
I continued sucking Rockford, my lips wrapped around that big dog-cock, feeling the pulsing aliveness coursing through his thick shaft. I truly loved it, the wrongness of it, the indecent sickness of it, the utter depravity of it, for I knew that's what it was: pure depravity.
“Let me make him come really fast,” Mrs. Patterson said.
She reached up and again began masturbating him as I sucked him, but her graceful hand moved much faster this time, her slim fingers obscenely encircling the thick shaft of his big pink dog cock.
“He'll go off really fast like this. Keep sucking him.”
And she wasn't kidding.
With my mouth still glued to the tip of Rockford's twitchy cock, he suddenly whimpered and came, a river of warm dog cum rushing into my mouth so quickly I almost choked on it.
I coughed, pulling my mouth away so I could catch my breath, and the remaining semen he ejaculated spurted into my face.
Actually, all over my face.
“I'm drowning!” I had to laugh, coughing again. “It was like trying to swallow a gallon of cum!”
“That's the fun of it,” the older woman laughed, too. “At least, to start. Now…do you want to watch him fuck me? That's even more fun…”
And I could only stare.
My God, was she serious?
I finally nodded, dying to see this svelte young professional woman fucking her dog, a sight I'd never imagined seeing in my wildest fantasies.
When Mrs. Patterson got onto her hands and knees, her shapely bare ass in the air, Rockford didn't hesitate in mounting her. His paws went easily around her slender waist, his dangling cock still astonishingly hard and lining up with her sopping-wet cunt.
“Fuck me, boy,” she crooned to him. “Sweet little Amber wants to see us do it. So she knows what to expect one day when she's ready to do it herself. Oh, yeah, there you go…!”
And, of course, before I even had my 11th birthday a month later that summer, that big gorgeous yellow dog was fucking me, too.
Virginia K.G. Ryder
Taboo Times Ten
The Fucking Machine by
Augustine Saintly
Gorgeous and wealthy young Kendra Wilson had a very real problem-she had a pussy that just wouldn't quit.
At 22-years-old, she was a genuinely beautiful tall blonde with a slim super-model figure, yet coupled with large, solidly firm breasts that could stop a freight train at a hundred yards.
Her face was flawless, a work of high-cheekbone and full-lipped art that'd been breaking hearts since she was an oversexed little 9-year-old.
Starting at that young age, she'd handed over her excessively-stimulated body to many of her young schoolmates, several of her teachers, two uncles, and as a stunningly sexy 12-year-old cheerleader, to an entire 7th-grade soccer team, complete with their adult coach, that disappeared under the radar for a so-called 'lost' Saturday night.
Finally 'found' late Sunday morning, the soccer coach claimed they'd all gotten a weird and rare case of almost fatal food poisoning at the local pizza place, which not only gave him and all the kids temporary amnesia but somehow killed the reception on all of their cell phones.
Not a particularly believable story, but no one had ever proven otherwise. And it demonstrated to what near-insane lengths the opposite sex was willing to go, seriously, to get their hands on the sexually captivating young girl.
In any case, oversexed was not a strong enough word to accurately describe Kendra Wilson.
At least, according to her therapist, a Ms. Jocelyn James, who'd been closely (perhaps too closely) working with her since she was a gorgeous teenager.
Kendra learned early on that the ever-evolving psychiatric world no longer believed that nymphomania was a real disease, preferring to call females with unnatural, always-in-full-gear sex drives 'hypersexuals.'
It basically meant having a clitoris that was always fully engorged, pulsing with anticipation and highly alert (or hyper — alert) for never-ending sexual relief.
“No matter how many times I come,” she'd told the older woman, stretched out on the therapist's couch, “I want to come again. One orgasm leads to the need for another, building as it were, to more and more of them, until I'm finally so exhausted I literally pass out.”
Of course, as appealing as Kendra was to men, she was as equally appealing to certain types of women.
“Do you often feel the need to masturbate?” Ms. James asked, taking many notes. “In inappropriate places, I mean?”
“I always feel the need to masturbate,” Kendra told her. “In every place.”
“Do you feel the need right now?”
“Yes,” Kendra admitted, suddenly ashamed. “I'm so sorry.”
“Don't be sorry,” Ms. James told her, clearing her throat. “It's normally a very natural urge. Please do it right now, and tell me what you're thinking. Exactly what you're thinking, as you do it.”
“Really?”
“Go right ahead, Kendra. It's therapy, after all.”
And as soon as the gorgeous young blonde was panting through her first of nine straight orgasms on the couch, her jeans and delicate panties down around her slim ankles, her therapist wasted no time putting her experienced hands (and eventually her mouth) on the hapless young girl's pussy.
Applying a clinical approach, as it were.
For the insurance company's money, from then on, Kendra got her sweet pussy licked and fingered and vibrated, her naked perfect body put through one panting orgasm after another, all of this within two 55-minute sessions each week with only a few words of actual therapy thrown in.
“I'm still so horny I could hoot,” Kendra announced each time, leaving the office somewhat satisfied sexually, but always needing far more. “Ms. James, I'm going to start doing gangbangs. I haven't done one in years, not since that soccer team when I was a naive little 12-year-old.”
Which instantly got Ms. James' full attention.
“That's a great idea,” her therapist advised. “A few gangbangs should take the edge off your unquenchable sex drive. If you let me know when and where, I might even join you.” She coughed politely into her hand. “Strictly for purposes of, uh, legitimate observation, you understand.”
Kendra looked to the woman.
She might have been a nymphomaniac, or a hypersexual or just a giant slut or whatever, and a natural blonde besides, but she wasn't an idiot.
“But you won't participate?” the young patient wanted to know. “You'll just observe? No fucking?”
“Well…”
And that's when Kendra decided further therapy was not for her.
So she joined the local swingers' world, finding a nice-sounding club online within driving distance, and on her 18th birthday she took on 14 young and older men at a rundown motel.
Her rampant sex drive that night became a thing of legend.
“Holy Christ!” the entire gang gasped, not once but many times in that same night-long session of seemingly endless fucking. “She just can't get enough!”
So true.
The worn-out gangbang guys had to call in reinforcements, another 10 male friends arriving at the motel at dawn to continue fucking the gorgeous girl halfway into the next afternoon.
Before she finally passed out from exhaustion.
It was more like sleep deprivation, really, because her perfectly-shaved pussy, as always, was still ready to go. But, whatever the cause, she was sleeping naked and spread-eagle (in case someone, anyone, wanted another go at her) on one of the cum-soaked king-sized beds.
“Thank God,” the president of the swinger's club announced.
Even a triple-dose of Viagra hadn't been enough to keep his substantial cock at more than half-mast after a full night of Kendra. He'd fucked her five times, the club record with or without erection pill assistance, but it was barely enough fucking to make a dent in her urgent needs.
In fact, after the fourth time, cheered on by the watching male members who were fucking her considerably less, he'd wanted no more than to crawl into a naked ball and take a long nap.
But, no such luck.
As president of the Keep on Fucking swinger's club, and seriously regretting that now ironic choice of name (which alerted Kendra to them in the first place), he managed to somehow go once more, honestly feeling his very life was on the line, his heart pounding away like a jackhammer.
He'd also gotten a bad case of pussy-burn on his poor penis, similar to rug-burn but…well, you can figure it out.
“She's fucked the entire club half to death,” the man panted. “My wife and I'll be on a vacation for the next month in Hawaii, having absolutely no sex. Not even a hand job. Here, Johnson, you're in charge.”
And as he left, he handed his second-in-command the club's keys, attached to a miniature pink vibrator/dildo.
Johnson, now in charge, looked fearfully to a fitfully snoring Kendra, her flawless naked body streaked with dried cum, her cunt leaking it and her bare ass lying in an actual pool of the stuff.
He looked down to his own overworked organ, still stiff from the miraculous little blue pills but understandably sore. In addition, his entire frame was so lacking in further energy he sagged with merely the thought of going on.
Instead, he motioned for the remaining swinger club members to silently, stealthily, sneak out of the motel room with him, lest the girl awaken and shame them some more. Once outside, he ordered them to never speak of it again.
Kendra's pussy, after all, just wouldn't quit.
Which, being a young woman of very large inherited means living in a huge penthouse at the top of an 8-story luxury building downtown, became the reason for her personalized order of a extremely expensive sex machine.
By personalized, it meant she had to fill in a lengthy questionnaire, being brutally candid, so that the machine (designed for nothing other than the all-out pleasure of mindless fucking) would best match Kendra's specialized needs.
“At last,” she thought, stuffing the filled-in questionnaire and her platinum credit card number for an outrageous sum into a large overnight envelope. “Maybe I can finally be satisfied sexually.”
And when the machine arrived at her door two weeks later, a complicated and computerized chrome contraption, outfitted with an ultra-modern control panel, plush cushions and soft glove-leather straps and stirrups, she learned it came complete with three able-bodied technicians to assemble it.
It was no surprise, of course, that throughout that long day of both work and play, all three young probable geniuses took multiple turns fucking the beautiful Kendra in every position imaginable.
After all, they'd all read her questionnaire and volunteered for her particular assignment instantly, knowing exactly what to expect. In addition, Kendra had left her oversized full-color copy of the Kama Sutra lying open on the glass coffee table for immediate reference.
It didn't take a genius to figure out what she so desperately needed.
That night, alone at last with the sex machine of her dreams, the tall willowy girl with the spectacular breasts stood silently studying it.
“Where to start?” she wondered aloud, naked and having showered thoroughly so that her first machine-fucking experience would be a fresh one. “You do look like a lot of fun.”
“Thank you, sweetheart,” a soothing male voice, that of her years-dead father, came from the machine, standing otherwise silent and awaiting her first sexual command. “I greatly appreciate your confidence in me.”
Kendra nodded slowly, not surprised.
The techs, between bouts of entering her vaginally, orally and anally, had explained the complex sex-machine's voice-activated feature. They'd programmed it, the on-board computer, from the audio on her old videotapes and DVD's, using her own beloved father's voice.
And the technicians were so well-suited to their profession, they'd shown not a single nuance of disapproval or shock at her choice of voice request.
After all, for other, often older and more jaded customers of either sex, they'd voice-programmed sons, horny underaged daughters using strap-on dildos, barking dogs of every variety, the occasional horse neighing through a massive eruption of equine semen, and once even a demon-like character named Baal.
And each voice was coupled with an equally suitable collection of vari-sized and colored dildo's.
That last one had been highly weird, for sure, the Baal deal, with a huge spiky cock attached that seemed unlikely to fit anyone even remotely human. The techs had set it up and hurriedly left without waiting to see where that one was going.
Whatever.
And better not to know.
“Do you want to fuck me, Daddy?” Kendra asked then, approaching the comfortably-cushioned narrow perch bolted to the chrome braces. She slid her hand across the soft leather surface of it. “I know I want you to.”
“That feels good,” her father's voice informed her. “Your hand on me. And, of course I want to fuck you. I haven't fucked you in a very long time.”
That was true, in the real sense as well as the fantasy she'd concocted for her new chrome and leather lover. And, exactly as the manual told her, the machine's motion detectors and touch-controlled sensors even knew when she'd lovingly stroked the plush seat.
“I used to love having your big cock in me, Daddy,” she said, reaching out for the large rubber dildo attached to the solid thrusting bar. It was approximately the same length and thickness as her own father's erect penis, constructed to her remembered specifications, even the flesh-like texture of it seeming so very real.
The main difference, then, was that the machine's version of her father's beloved cock was self-lubricating, tiny invisible dots seeping with super-slippery 'pussy juice' whenever it went to work inside an actual vagina.
There was, Kendra knew, no such thing as too much slick lubrication when it came to the delicious friction a good fucking could bestow.
“I didn't like school much,” she continued, encircling the dildo with her fingers. “But you made the 5th-grade through 10th-grade fly by for me, doing me in your Cadillac SUV or at the different motels, all those times you picked me up…”
The computerized machine was silent, as if thinking over an appropriate response, but when none was forthcoming, Kendra slipped a long, shapely bare leg over the seat and dropped her perfect bottom down onto it.
It conformed perfectly to her bare ass, cupping it in two spongy sections, as she lay back against the padded and raised seatback. She carefully slipped her feet into the leather stirrups. They were, she noted with great satisfaction, positioned in exactly the right spot for her.
Her dimpled knees were up and out, her bare inner thighs perfectly parted, her slickly wet pussy situated for maximum penetration.
“I can feel your subtle vibrations,” she told the machine. “Through the seat. It's as if you're alive.”
“I am alive,” her father's well-modulated voice told her. “Whenever your pussy needs a good fucking. It's my only reason to be.”
“Call it my cunt,” she said then. “It's dirtier and I love dirty. And I always need a good fucking.”
“So I remember, sweetheart,” the voice said. “Your cunt, then. I've always loved your cunt, in every way. I'm addicted to it, actually. The look, the smell, the taste, the feel of it tightly and wetly grabbing at my cock every time you come…”
Kendra smiled to herself, then picked up the small remote control.
She pressed the button labeled 'anal' and was pleased when an almost-silent motion beneath her split-seat smoothly slid a smaller life-like dildo up into her tightly puckered little anus.
It slid into her with a minimum of self-lubricated effort.
“I love fucking you in the ass, sweetie,” her father told her. “Tell me how much you like this.”
And a low vibrating hum caused the smaller dildo buried in her asshole to not only began slipping slowly but wetly in and out of her bare bottom, but to vibrate as well, the sensation making Kendra gasp with pleasure.
“Oh, yes, Daddy,” she crooned, swallowing hard. “I love you in my ass!”
“Can I fuck you now, Kendra?” her father asked, such real emotion and need in his voice it actually brought tears to her eyes.
It was exactly as if her own father wanted to fuck her all over again, the simple act of his merely asking that summer afternoon long ago more than enough incentive for the preteen girl to immediately pull off her panties and spread her legs for him.
“I want to fuck your perfect cunt, so damn much!” the machine said.
She smiled to herself again, then nodded.
“Of course, Daddy,” she said, looking so forward to the experience. “Fuck the living shit out of me!”
And so that's exactly what it did.
Eleven hours later, without let-up, sleep or food, Kendra had come so many times she lost count somewhere above 135. Luckily, she'd earlier thought to place a six-pack of bottled water nearby, mostly because she knew how dry her mouth often got when she fucked.
But that was it-water.
Her pussy was so swollen and overly-sensitive she'd begun climaxing over the last two hours almost nonstop, her bone-jarring orgasms often separated by less than a minute. The pistoning and vibrating self-lubricating dildos within both her anus and her vagina were giving her exquisite pleasure beyond anything she'd believed possible.
She was floating in a dreamland of pure and acute sexual build-up, followed by shockingly sudden and explosive satisfaction, repeated near-endlessly.
When earlier studying her own hypersexuality problem online, Kendra learned that the supposed record for most female orgasms in a single hour was 134. This was the fact that caused her to keep track of her climaxes on a small counter in her hand until she hit 135 (though her orgasms were over several hours, not just one), at which point she stopped counting.
And the most orgasms she'd had in a single hour topped out somewhere from 18 to 20, a number still worth noting. She was definitely a little climax machine herself.
She'd also learned of lab mice in the 1950's, the pleasure centers of their brains wired to receive numerous orgasms, that eventually starved to death-their endless climaxes were apparently preferable to even food as they repeatedly came their little brains out over a period of days.
A few years later, when those same brain experiments involving pleasure were secretly conducted on human volunteers, many of the women had multiple orgasms so intensely they often lasted over thirty minutes apiece, and were spaced apart by only a few minutes.
Barely enough time to recuperate.
Yet when the scientists in charge attempted to end the experiments, disconnecting the clearly exhausted subjects after hours of climaxing, they were met with near-violent anger and resistance.
That'd seemed almost unbelievable to Kendra at the time, but now she knew without a doubt it was true.
“I'm coming again!” she panted hoarsely, “Daddy, you're fucking me to death!”
“Not quite,” he told her. “But almost.”
“Ohhh, God, here I go again! Come in me!”
“Of course, sweetheart,” he said to her. “Oh, Kendra, sweetie, my cock's going off in your hot cunt again! I can't hold back another second! Ohhh, God, sweetie, I love coming in you so fucking much!”
And deeply within her, an ejaculation of warm sperm-like liquid squirted in several life-like spurts from the fleshy head of the pistoning dildo, the shaft of it throbbing and jerking realistically as it 'came' inside of her spasming pussy.
“I'm coming again!” she cried out. “Fuck me, Daddy, fuck me, fuck me!”
Kendra's cunt, filled to overflowing with the 'semen' pouring into her, spilled the slick liquid right back out. It covered her entire crotch, draining down into the superb crack of her butt even, the deliciously warm sensation spurring her on to another orgasm.
“Oh, GOD!” she panted, overcome with the sheer intensity of it all. “More, more, more, fuck me even more!”
The designer of the fucking machine was clearly a genius in every way, she found herself thinking, the action of the thrusting bar-and the smaller dildo screwing her in her butt still-just erratic enough to seem real.
It not only responded to her urgent voice commands of “Fuck me harder!” or “Fuck me faster!” but it varied the strokes just enough to be unpredictable.
Sometimes it gave her hard fast fucking, sometimes slower but deeper fucking, sometimes short little strokes that kept the flesh-like bulbous head of the fake cock right at the opening of her juicy cunt, driving her even wilder.
She simply could not get enough of it.
And then, unbelievably, a red light on the control panel began flashing the words 'Maintenance Needed' and her father's loving voice said, “Sweetheart, I have a meeting I've got to get to, right now-I know you'll understand.”
A failsafe, obviously built in by the technicians, possibly to prevent overheating or some such related problem.
“What!?!” she blurted out, admittedly exhausted but still wanting (needing!) to fuck just a little longer. “Daddy…!”
My God, she thought, this was exactly like real life, when her dad would take her somewhere and fuck her silly, but then have to run off due to business. And usually well before she was finished with the long string of orgasms she expected to experience with him.
He was her father, after all, and no one before or after fucked her as good or as lovingly, the very illicit nature of their sexual coupling an aspect that added terrific pleasure for her.
Another red light blinked on, 'Refill Liquid #245.'
Which had to be the semen-like substance.
Over the last hours, Kendra had asked her father to ejaculate in her cunt numerous times, too numerous, apparently. She'd even tasted it occasionally and discovered it did, amazingly, taste just like real cum, if only slightly sweeter.
High fructose corn syrup was probably an ingredient, she'd figured with genuine irritation. It was a substance she didn't approve of.
Anyway, the fucking machine was apparently completely drained of its version of cum, due to her incessant sexual demands. Unfortunately, that feature seemed realistic enough to her.
“No!” she sobbed, not believing this was happening. “Goddamn it!”
“It'll be fine,” her father's voice attempted to sooth the girl. “Sweetie, you need to let me rest and then refill…” and here a mechanical voice inserted the required substance, ”…Liquid #245.”
“Fine,” she sighed, but was still angry. “And then you'll keep fucking me?”
Her father's voice was strangely silent, and then a female voice, sounding very much like a voice-programmed secretary-type, announced, “Kendra, your father's in a very important meeting at the moment. He'll get back to you as quickly as he can. Goodbye, dear.”
And the sound of an office phone clicking dead confirmed her fears.
Her own dad, after fucking her long and hard to get all the sick pleasure he could out of her sweet little cunt for himself, had bailed on her.
It was just so unfair!
She sighed and slid limply off the soft leather seat onto the floor, her bare feet slipping out of the leather stirrups for the first time in over eleven hours. Her feet did seem sort of sore, she had to admit. And her bare ass was sort of numb, at least in a couple of spots.
Her pussy, on the other hand, was perfectly fine, swollen and soaking wet, but fine, her clitoris still tingling in that special way it had.
And then, in a gradual return to clarity as she lay there, naked and sweaty and dazed, full of robot-cum and staring up at the high ceiling of her penthouse, she realized what she'd been thinking-it was crazy!
The machine was just that, a machine, not her father at all.
A near-fantastic fucking machine, it was true, and one that she'd definitely speak to the techs about, regarding boosting the power and possibly adding a clitoral stimulator, but only a damn machine nonetheless.
And it simply needed maintenance, and a matter of refilling a vital liquid or two, before it could start fucking her again.
In other words, though, it had quit before she had.
Which caused a further realization to come to her: she'd actually out-fucked a fucking machine.
It seemed impossible, but it was true.
And what she'd always considered to be an exaggeration throughout her entire young life had finally proven to be the absolute truth all along. She smiled to herself, a flush of pride spreading warmly within her at the thought of it.
Kendra Wilson had a pussy that just wouldn't quit.
For real.