"Wake up! Hey, wake up!" Jeff shook my leg angrily. I blinked my eyes, trying unsuccessfully to focus my vision. "Get your bottom off that couch and have same coffee."
"Ohhhhhhh, Christ," I groaned miserably. My head felt like someone had used it for a battering ram. I rubbed my face and finally I could see straight. Near me, on the coffee table, was the empty bottle of wine that had helped to get me through the night. Unfortunately, it provided for a very rotten morning.
"Since when did you start sleeping on the couch?" Jeff asked with a sneer.
"Don't raz me today. I've got a hangover you just wouldn't believe," I said, easing my aching body into a sitting position.
"You're becoming worse and worse with each day. Yesterday you did that filthy thing with your mouth and this morning I find you with a hangover."
"Drunkenness is preferable to your neglect. If you won't go to bed with me, maybe a bottle will keep me company."
"That's great! That's just fantastic!" Jeff grabbed his suit coat and raced for the door. I almost expected him to spit on me as he went by. When the door slammed I thought my head would fall right off my shoulders.
I sat on the couch for more than fifteen minutes, trying to find some reason for staying with Jeff. Eventually I made my way rather unsteadily to the kitchen and had half a dozen cups of coffee, which straightened me out pretty good.
"Drinkers get fat, Amber," I mumbled quietly, watching the smoke curl from my cigarette. My exercise for exhibition the other morning would have to be a ritual if I started drinking. When there didn't seem to be any alternative that made sense, I walked to the window and filled my lungs with the morning air. To my surprise, the stranger across the way was standing on his balcony, almost as if he were waiting for me.
I tried to do ten sit-ups and finally stopped at seven. The pain in my head was too great. Kicking my legs up, I spread them wide and looked at my stranger over the mountain of my tits. Even though I was dressed in just a skimpy baby-doll nightie, even he appeared to be bored with me and my body.
Being rejected by a stranger and my husband all on the same morning was more than I could take so I chucked the idea of exercises, promising myself to start them in earnest tomorrow, and decided that a long, hot shower might wash away all my troubles.
I turned the water on as hot as I could possibly stand it. The steam rose to the ceiling and quickly enveloped the bathroom in a thick fog. Scrubbing my body with a bar of soap made me feel clean and, surprisingly, very refreshed. By the time I had washed the shampoo out of my hair I actually felt like a human again.
"Let's be together, on our own," I sang into the steam, recalling an old Melanie tune. "Let's be together a-a-alone."
"That's beautiful singing," the stranger across the way said, opening the shower door.
"What are you doing here?" I streamed, vainly trying to cover my huge tits with one hand (a futile attempt, to be sure) and hide my twat with the other. "Get the hell out of here before I call the cops!"
"If you scream at me once more," the stranger said, an evil glint sparkling in his eyes, "I'll break every fucking bone in your body."
I believed him. There was something cold and unyielding in his eyes that frightened me. He stood much taller than I and his biceps bulged impressively under his shirt. Only his mouth, which twitched at one corner, gave any sign of inner emotion.
"Please don't hurt me?"
"I have no intention of hurting you… unless you decide to be uncooperative. Just do as I say and we'll have ourselves a ball." He reached over and turned the water off.
"We should get to know each other better," he said evenly. "My name is John and your name is Amber. Shall we have some breakfast?" He turned his back and headed out of the bathroom. I stepped out and grabbed a towel before he said, "That won't be necessary. It is advisable to ask me whether you can do anything. That way you won't get your neck broken in the most slow and painful manner."
I followed John, still trying to cover myself with just my hands. We went into the kitchen and he sat down at the table.
"I'd like some orange juice first, then you can start on the eggs." John looked at me, a sardonic grin pursing his lips. "Please don't delay with my breakfast. I get very angry when I'm hungry."
"Yes, sir." I abandoned my attempt to conceal my nakedness and got John the orange juice.
"Stick your tit in it, and then feed it to me."
I was so scared I didn't know if my legs, would keep me standing. With shaking hands I held my boob and dipped the nipple into the cold liquid, then held it toward John. He licked the liquid off the brown nipple and, to my dismay, his tongue felt good against my flesh.
"Now make the eggs and be quick about it. By the way, I've already taken all the knives so you needn't try and find any."
I made his eggs just as he ordered. Leaning over the stove my big boobs wiggled freely and John seemed to find that sexy because he mumbled something obscene about them under his breath. While I made the eggs he undressed himself, carefully draping each article of clothing on the back of a chair.
"You really like showing off your body, don't you?" I didn't answer. "I really can't blame you for being proud. There aren't many women around who have curves like you've got. In fact, I would venture to say that there's not another body quite as good as yours in the entire city."
I scraped the eggs from the frying pan onto a plate and put them in front of John. He looked at me casually, his eyes scanning my pendulous tits, then moving down to my crotch. His cock was bigger than I had dreamed. Though only half erect, it was probably eight inches long and two inches in diameter. Never in my life had I seen a weapon like that – it looked dangerous.
"Mmmmmmmm! These are quite good. Now get below the table."
"I can't," I whispered, knees shaking.
John exploded from the chair. Before I could move a muscle he slapped me across the face hard enough to knock me backwards against the wall. I tried to scream – I really wanted to. I was paralyzed with fear. John grabbed my wet hair in both hands and shook me, the muscles in his body easily capable of throwing me clear across the room.
"Don't you ever disobey me, cunt! Do you understand? Now get on your knees and suck my big prick, you cocksucker!"
He bounced my head off the wall and walked back to his chair. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I got to my knees between his spread thighs. By now his cock was rock-solid and a full nine inches long. I held the pulsating, blunt cock in my hand and pointed it toward my face. Opening my mouth wide I wrapped my moist lips around the red tip.
"That's right, bitch, wrap those thick lips of yours around my cock. And if I even think I feel your teeth… I'll cut your fucking tits off."
John's prick was a mouthful and a half. I pushed down on it, the massive girth puffing my cheeks out. Tears trickled down my face and I could taste them when they dropped onto the big tool wedged firmly between my lips. I whined softly, not daring to look up at John for fear of setting off another tirade. The cock in my mouth was so large that I held it with both hands, and worked my lips and tongue slowly over the remaining crown and shaft. My body had dried but my long, thick hair was still dripping wet and I felt a cold trickle of water running down my back, moving between my asscheeks, then cooling my snatch before falling to the floor.
I wanted to dry my hair. I wanted to have my husband make love to me I wanted my mouth to caress my husband's cock. I wanted many, many things, but I was at the mercy of a demented man I had excited because I was bored with my life.
A drop of cum oozed out the tip of John's cock, tasting sharp and potent. I tightened my lips around the knob, squeezing the hot flesh and scrubbing the tip with my tongue. Up and down I bobbed, sliding my face over the fat roll of blood and muscle.
"You're a real good little cocksucker, Amber. No shit, you really know how to suck a mean cock."
I twisted my hands in opposite directions, flicking my tongue in the tiny pisshole. John's breath wheezed through his nostrils so apparently I was getting to him.
"Suck my balls, cunt," John demanded, jerking my head up by yanking my hair. It hurt like hell but I tried not to show it. At this point I was sure that anything would set him off.
The tight, curly hair on his nutsac tickled my nose as I rolled my tongue over the big rocks. When both nuts were suitably moistened I tucked one in my mouth. John's smoldering cock rested against my forehead as my nose pressed in that little space between his nuts and cock.
I stroked the entire length of John's cock, tightening my grip slightly when I reached the cockhead. Maybe once his massive balls exploded all that pent-up cum, he would release me unharmed. With that in mind I nursed on the egg shaped nut and serviced John's cock with my hand, working my fingers over every inch of rigid meat.
"I've finished my breakfast, cunt, now clean the table and be quick about it."
I cleared the table faster than I ever had before. John eyed my every move, taking in the swinging tits with their cherry nipples and my pink-slitted twat. When I finished he led me into the bedroom, motioning for me to remain standing while he sat on the edge of the bed.
John reached between my thighs, running his middle finger up and down my snatch. I felt a strange tinge each time his finger rubbed against my clit. I didn't want to respond to his caresses, but I couldn't control my body's reactions.
"You're getting wet. My, my, my! You really are a hot little slut!" John studied my face as he eased his finger between my pussylips and up my snatch. He pushed his finger deep into me until his palm rested against my crotch, then pulled his finger out, nice and gentle.
"Suck my finger," he said, holding his hand up to my face. "Find out what your cunt tastes like."
I held his hand by the wrist, closed my eyes and puckered my lips around John's middle finger. The cunt juice tasted mild and pleasant. I sucked on his finger, moving my head back and forth, glad that John's attitude toward me was more sexual than violent. Also, it was the first time I had ever tasted my own juice and I liked it.
"Now I want you to play with your pussy. Spread those pink lips and let me see you finger yourself."
With one hand I spread my puffy cuntlips and with the other I rubbed my hard, juicy clit. Since my fingernails are very long I had to be careful not to hurt myself as I pushed one up my snatch.
"Ohhhhh," I hissed softly, feeling a warm glow building in my body. I pushed my finger hard in me, trying to jam it in as far as possible. John watched my progress with wide, excited eyes. His big cock twitched and jerked, standing straight out from his body.
Deeper, harder, faster I stabbed in my twat, feeling the rising tide of an orgasm approach me. My hips undulated by their own will as my finger jerked frantically to and fro. Soft, squishy noises came from my cunt as it oozed thick, clear oil on my finger and hand.
"Oh, John, I'm going to cum. I'm going to cum on my own hand," I sighed, looking down between my trembling tits to see my finger jabbing in my dewy slit.
"On your knees! Suck my cock, you dirty cunt, while you finger yourself off!"
This time I really wanted to suck his big tool. Dropping to my knees, sitting on my ankles, I grabbed the heated prick and aimed it at my open mouth. My lips stretched massively, making room for the bulbous prickhead as I lowered my face over it. His cum leaked out onto my tongue more quickly than before. The tip beat harder, throbbing lustfully on my tongue.
"Finger your asshole! Do it quick, you dirty bitch!"
I pulled my finger from my twat and reached around my side to coat my bunghole with cuntjuice. Though I had often thought of getting cornholed I had never taken a finger up my ass. Releasing John's cock, I used that hand to tantalize my clit while I cautiously tested my asshole's ability to accept my finger.
Within seconds I had both hands stabbing frantically, one jerking a finger in and out my overheated quim, the other plunging up my virgin bunghole. To feel something wedged in my ass was a new, sultry experience for me and one that I enjoyed more than I dreamed I would.
"Mmmmmmmm! Arrggggggg!" I groaned, thrashing my head over John's cock. I tightened my lips around it, urging it to spit out his passion over my tongue. My hair brushed over his naked thighs as the hard nipples rubbed against the bed.
My body quivered, trembled, shook fiercely and then I reached my peak. Cum streamed from my pussy, flowing down the inside of my thighs and soaking my hand. I momentarily stopped sucking on John's tool, just letting it rest in the moist warmth of my mouth.
Even before my cum had finished John picked me up and threw me belly down on the bed. At that point I was so crazy with lust I didn't give a damn who or what he was, I just wanted to feel the delicious orgasm take control of my body.
At the same moment I jammed a finger in my twat John's cockhead pushed through the tight opening of my bunghole.
"Nooooo! John, you'll killing me!" I screamed, my fantastic cum having been cut short with the searing pain in my butt. I felt John's muscular chest press down on my back, heaving and sweating with his exertion. His hot breath burned against the side of my face as his unyielding cock was thrust full-length up my ass. Bright, flashing colors burst in my head as I went crazy with pain. John's cock was just too big, too hard for my tiny, virgin ass to accept. I tried to twist away from his heaving body but his weight was too great for inc.
John's hips smacked against my firm, tortured butt as he bore into me, driving me down on the mattress. The big, cum-laden balls flopped against the inside of my thighs, jumping with anticipation.
"I'm gonna cum. You beautiful bitch, I'm gonna cum!"
"Don't! You're tearing me apart! Stop, please! Let me suck you off, John! I'll suck you off!" The agonizing pain in my backside subsided only marginally when I felt John's cock jerk and pump his cum up my bunghole. His prick rammed into me, seemingly tearing my ass apart as he tilled my ass with his spunk.
Finally his balls released everything they had and John rested on top of me, his chest heaving for air, his cheek pressed down against mine.
"If you tell anyone about this," John panted, "I'll kill you and your husband."
"I won't tell anyone. I'd be too embarrassed to tell anyone about this. I feet so ashamed."
John stayed on top of me for a long time, his massive cock slowly shrinking in size until it slipped from my ass. He kissed me on the back of the neck, then got up and left the room. I stayed there on the bed, feeling John's warm cum inside me, wondering what had just happened to me. I wanted to cry because I had been so terribly violated, but I just couldn't. The pain in my bunghole had dwindled to just the memory of a hot, urgent cock plowing up me until a big load of my rapist's wad was squirted. I wanted to cry, but the memory of my own orgasm kept me from crying. I recalled how my neglected body had responded to John's fingers. I tasted his cock in my mouth and remembered how I had dropped down on it, wanting it to jerk and pump his cum against my tongue. No, I wouldn't tell the police about what John had done to me. Perhaps, though I really didn't know it, he had done exactly what I had been afraid to ask him to do.
My mind was is a whirl as I entered Memorial Hospital.
Everything that I had been told I would feel after being raped – hate, anger, frustration, self loathing – proved to be a falsehood. Instead, I found myself wishing for a cock, to suck on so I could finally get a mouthful of someone's spunk. I still wanted that jism to come from my husband's balls, but I didn't feel he would be necessary. There are many cocks in this world and his is just one of them.
For some reason the sights, sounds and smells of the hospital pleased me more than they had in months. I was needed here. I had a job to do and I did it well. People depended on me and I never let them down. In short, I felt useful. Something I hadn't been feeling lately whenever I was with Jeff, that's for sure.
I did my afternoon rounds cheerfully, talking with each patient a few minutes before moving to the next. When I opened the door to young Arthur McDaniels' room, I got quite a surprise.
The sheet was tenting at his crotch, a strong hardon, pushing the sheet up. His hand was beneath the covers, but from the way the sheet was moving I knew he was fingering his prick.
"Hi!" I chirped, pretending not to notice what it was he was doing. When Art saw me he quickly rolled onto his side, hiding his hard-on.
"Oh, yeah, aw… good morning," he stammered, trying to act nonchalant. "I wasn't expecting you until later."
Art was a rugged young man, in the hospital with a severely broken leg he had gotten while playing baseball. He had a mass of long brown hair that spilt over his pillow and his body was lean and muscular from hours of working out.
"Time for your shot," I said, pulling a needle from my tray. "Roll over and let me see a cheek."
Art rolled away from me and unfastened the snap of his pajamas. I pulled the sheet down to his knees, feeling a strange tingling in my cunt. My mouth began to water as if I were about to have some delicious meal.
"Sorry, it's the other cheek that gets the needle today, Art. You'll have to roll over and face me."
"But… no, you gave me the shot in the other one yesterday." His face turned slightly pink.
"Come on, don't fight me now," I said, grabbing him by the hip and rolling him over so he faced me. His cock, long but slender, stuck out the fly of his pajamas.
"I'm sorry," Art said, his eyes pleading for understanding. "I didn't know you would be in here. Please, don't tell my parents."
I couldn't take my eyes off Art's prick. The smooth, pink flesh was stretched taut over the rigid inner core. I set the needle back on the tray and reached out, touching his spear lightly with my fingertips.
"You've got a real nice cock, Art. It's a real man-sized one." I scratched from the tip to his balls with my painted fingernails, watching the prick throb and quiver at my touch.
"Then you're not going to tell my parents?"
"No, of course not," I whispered, unable to take my eyes from his prick. "A young man like you probably has a hard-on all the time."
"I didn't mean for you to see it," he said, his voice cracking with emotion. "It's just that it's been so long since I've seen my girlfriend."
"I know what you mean. There are times when my husband and I don't get to see much of each other, either," I lied. I didn't need to drag a young boy into my marital problems. "Does your girlfriend like to fuck you?"
"Not really. Actually, we've never gone all the way." Art was warming up to my caresses and had moved his hand to the edge of the bed, just inches from my belly. "When we go parking she just jacks me off and then I finger her."
"You mean she doesn't suck your cock? Why on earth not?" I curled ray finger around the shaft, beginning to work the smooth foreskin back and forth over the bone-hard inner muscle. "Don't you ever suck her pussy until she cum all over your face?"
"No, we never do that." Art said, his voice still choked with emotion. He put his hand around me, resting it on my ass. "I've asked her a couple times but she doesn't want to. Whenever I try to suck her pussy she pushes me away and gets angry."
Art squeezed my firm ass, moving his hand back and forth from cheek to cheek. I gripped his cock in one hand, jerking on it slowly, while I cradled his tight nutsac in the other. His balls were hot and heavy in my palm.
"You're so beautiful, Nurse Simmons. You're the prettiest nurse in the whole hospital." Art moved his hand around to the front, sliding it under my dress to feel my thigh. His fingers crept up slowly until he reached my seething cunt. I knew my pantyhose were moist with my juices.
"Oh, sweet Art! Young Arty! Your hand feels so good there," I whispered, trying to control my trembling knees. Art tried to pull my pantyhose down to get a feel of my naked snatch, but abandoned the idea when the hose wouldn't pull down easily. I cursed myself for wearing the damn things, which are about as close to having a chastity belt as you can get these days, and made a promise to go out and buy a garter belt and hose, insuring that a similar situation wouldn't prevent my cunt from getting what it wanted ever again.
"Your cunt is so warm, so wet," Art hissed, pushing his palm harder between my legs.
"I can't help myself," I whispered, jerking on the long prick, "I've got to suck you!"
Bending forward at the waist I encased Art's cockhead in my mouth. I swirled my tongue around the oversized cockhead briefly, feeling it grow even larger, then pushed down, taking more of his slender shaft in my mouth. When the tip of his cock was wedged snuggly against the back of my throat I chewed on the stem with my lips, whetting it to an even harder state.
"Nurse Simmons, I never thought it would feel that good," Art said, rubbing my twat with his palm.
I squeezed his balls and sucked hard on his cock, molding my cheeks perfectly to his girth. Pulling my head up, I frisked my tongue along the underside of his tool. Since his girth wasn't as great as John's, my jaws didn't ache from being opened too wide. Licking the mushroomed bead, I caught a quick look at Art's face. His eyes were closed, his mouth open, gasping for air.
"Look at me while I suck you," I whispered. When Art opened his eyes I made a production of loving his cock. I licked the tip, then down the shank, all the while staring at Art. I rubbed his prick over my lips, cheeks and eyes, showing him how much I appreciated his cock.
I nibbled my way down to his balls, working on the hard, slick flesh with my lips and nipping it with my teeth. While licking Art's balls I stroked the head of his cock.
"I can't take much more," Art hissed, rubbing my cunt faster.
I released Art's nut from my mouth and poised myself over the tip of his prick. I grabbed his prick by the base with determination as I took the bulbous end between my full, moist lips. Jerking my head up and down over it, sucking on that part of his cock that stuck through my fist, I scraped his flesh with my tongue. I whacked on his meat with short jerks as my head pivoted and rotated around the knob. Art grabbed my head and pushed me down, messing up my hair and knocking my cap off, and I braced myself for his spunk.
"Tongue me!" he hissed, jabbing his cock between my clamping lips. "Arrrggghhhhh!" he wheezed as his body thrashed about on the bed.
"Mmmmmnunmm!" I mumbled as his rich cum boiled out of his balls, filling my mouth. My tongue danced over the tip of his cock, urging it to continue erupting the hot cream. His jism tasted sharp as it coated the inside of my mouth. The spurts became less and less fierce, then finally stopped altogether. With the crown still between my lips I swallowed his cum, then took his cock as deeply into my mouth as possible. I stayed like that, tonguing his slick cock, until I was sure that every drop of cum in his balls was in my belly.
"I never thought it could feel that good, Nurse Simmons," Art said, pushing the hair from my face. "That was the best cum I've ever had."
"I enjoyed it also," I said, pleased with the strong aftertaste his jism left in my mouth. "And in case you're interested, it was a first for me, too."
I gave Art his shot after promising to give his cock the same oral treatment again and left the room, looking a little disheveled. A quick stop in a bathroom got my hair and cap back in place. Only my lipstick, which had smeared off on Art's hard prick, left a trace of guilt on my looks.