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reprinted from Literotica


Mona was an angry young woman. Unable to sustain a relationship
due to her high-maintenance character, she settled for
fucking whomever she could. At first she liked the no-strings-attached
fucking, but she soon tired of the meaninglessness of it
all. So she settled into a life of work and masturbation.
During this time, she moved in with a gay man, from whom she
could siphon some masculine energy without feeling the
need for sex. Indeed, with Norm, she could hug and touch
and talk, talk, talk, the very things she did not do with
her previous boyfriends.

"Norm, I need to marry a gay man, " she told him.

Norm, well-groomed and well-spoken, only smiled at her.
"Yes, until you progress to the point where you want
to bring your vagina into the picture. Therein lies the

Mona smiled at her friend. "I so love you, Norm."

Mona was a healthy 28-year-old, of Swedish stock, with
long, thick, blonde, curly hair and pouty lips; her friends
called her a Scandinavian Shakira. Her hips curved gracefully
as she walked and as she leaned against walls. People's
eyes followed her. She loved to lounge around the apartment
in nothing but a heavy sweater, allowing her thick blonde
muff to air itself out and release its heavy fragrance upward
to her nose. Mona would occasionally finger her pussy while
drinking coffee or watching TV. Norm always knew about
this, partly because she did it in his presence, and partly
because he could smell it on the sofa throw. Her own pussy
odor, which was always very strong, would have been her
favorite drug, had she not come to love the heavy musks that
emanated from men's secret, hairy places. Unfortunately
for her, she denied herself the opportunity to indulge
in them. Such was her neurosis.

It was Norm from whose candid tales she learned about ass-fucking.
She loved the thought of being responsible for things going
into and out of men's asses, especially when the men
were bent over and vulnerable. To her, a man's ass wasn't
just a thing of rugged beauty, with muscle, curves, and
a valley of earthy hair, it was a thing to be filled up the
way a pussy was filled up. It was a way to equalize the sexes.
It was where a man could become a woman in some limited way.

Norm's ass was a pretty thing. Not quite manly, it was
waxed to smooth perfection. At times, Mona took over these
waxing duties, making his ass, his balls, his chest, his
legs, and his armpits shine like a woman's. That's
what Mona liked about Norm: he was a man, but he was like a
woman to her. Mona had plenty of experience with being ass-fucked.
It had started with fingers back in her teen years, then
progressed to carrots, markers, certain kitchen utensils,
and finally dildos. They grew progressively wider and
stretched her furry brown pucker. Even Norm was impressed
as, one night, she outdildoed him in a friendly competition.
Mind you, Norm's ass was a well-traveled highway.
It gobbled up its dildo like the old friend it was, but Mona
had bought the two-inch-wide Deluxe Invader, and she became
Norm's new hero.

"Mona?" he asked afterward.

"Yes, dear?" she said, letting her fully exercised
anus calm down.

"You realize I will be borrowing that pretty soon.
I will not be outdone in this department."

"Yes, Norm, I realize that. My only request is that
you brag to your friends about me."

Mona frequently accompanied Norm to Club 71. The 7 was shorter
than the 1, giving the impression that it was bending over
for the 1. Clever, Mona thought. Just clever. While at the
bar, fending off the advances of aggressive lesbians,
she had the time to learn about man-on-man assfucking.
It was so hot to her that she would cross her legs at the bar
and squeeze her legs into orgasms right there. The hedonism
at Club 71 was remarkable.


What she liked best were the many bi-boys who frequented
the place.

Norm had told her, "Those are the ones who like getting
reamed out by both men and women."

"How do you mean?" she naively asked at first.

"They like a dick no matter who has it."

"Oooooh. I like that idea." After this night,
Mona became obsessed with fucking men in their rears. At
nearly every moment, she imagined herself with a male organ
of her own, pushing it into some helpless man's tight
behind. She would slap the tight cheeks every minute or
so. Whenever she walked past the construction crew on 3rd
Street (which soon became twice daily), she kept her sunglasses
on and waited for the quick moment when one of them would
bend over in his tight jeans, and then the fantasies began:

I walk up to him ever so swiftly, freeing my cock from
my pants. He doesn't see me as he bends over to pick something
up. In one fluid motion, I yank down his jeans, astounded
at the beauty of his firm, hairy ass shining in the sun. I
caress it appreciatively, feeling the hard, warm cheeks
in my trembling hands. I run my finger in the hairy furrow
that separates his cheeks. I can hear the rustling and feel
the slick sweat. I reach down to his most vulnerable part
and press my finger inside. It slides in easily, for he is
wet and ready back here. For a moment I crouch to my knees
and lap up and down his crack, paying special attention
to his tight hole. He is a virgin back there. I taste his tangy,
earthy, salty flavor, jamming my tongue in to prepare him
for the public fucking he is about to receive.

Standing up, I press the tip of my cock to his hole. Gently
but assertively, I push it inside. He moans and screams
at the same time. His bare-chested co-workers watch with
awe, their pants rapidly filling out in front. When I am
finally inside him, I slowly fuck his vulnerable behind.
The warm musk of his ass drifts upward to my nose, where I
inhale it while ravaging him. I grind the dildo at different
angles so it massages my clit as I do so.

We continue like this for ten minutes as his coworkers,
and passersby, watch with fascination. My ultra-masculine
construction worker is now my manly slave boy. Then, I feel
my clit tense up, and I grind harder into his ass. When I come,
I am bucking furiously, my cock assaulting every corner
of his ass. After that, I stop to catch my breath. He has not
come. I withdraw my dildo and stuff it back into my pants.
Then I plant a kiss near his crack, pat his cheeks, and move
on. He and the others turn to look at me as I walk away.

The first time she had this fantasy, her inattention caused
Mona to bump into a lightpost, which caused that very construction
worker to turn and laugh at her.

So Mona and Norm went shopping for her new strap-on. They
went to the Lucky Lady shop, which catered to women and their
naughty desires. They talked with the clerk about anuses
and strap-ons, and how Mona needed a good anal dildo to use
on her male friends. It excited Mona to talk this way to a
complete stranger. She and Norm settled on a harness and
three differently sized dildos.

Of course, they had to test them out later that night. Mona
knew that Norm was not 100% gay. 92% maybe, but that was enough
for her. She posed for him with her largest dildo. It was
of natural color, with a harness that was also of natural
color, and as she thrust her hips forward, she swooned at
the sight of her cock slicing the air in two. She pranced
in front of the mirror, fondling her breasts and thrusting
forward. Norm watched appreciatively and giggled.

Then she jacked herself off, using her feminine movements
to add a softer, gentler flair to male wanking. She loved
fucking a gay man in his ass. She loved being where women
were not normally allowed. She liked the feel of trespassing
on male territory. She had Norm completely naked, bent
over the bathroom sink as she plunged into his asshole.
She actually felt the dildo pushing past his sphincter.
She could smell the clean musk of his behind as she fucked
him. The base of the dildo was positioned so that it rubbed
her clit from various angles. She worked it to hit these
angles directly, contorting her roommate's already-stretchy
rectum as she did so.

Norm did not flinch once. "Why couldn't I marry
a man like this?" she asked herself. "He's
receptive, he's well-groomed, he loves to cook, he
calls his mom once a week, he puts the toilet seat down, he
loves to talk--and he loves my nastiest fantasy."
After she had come twice this way, she noticed that Norm
had also come. The white fluid was on the handles of the vanity
doors. Knowing Norm to be disease-free, she got down on
her knees and licked up his cum from the handles. That was
her first taste of sperm in over three years.

Now Mona was ready to take to Club 71 and clean out every ass
she could find.


There was no shortage of assholes at Club 71, so to speak.
Norm had suggested she wear the strap-on under tight-fitting
pants, so no one would be mistaken about her intentions.
On the dance floor, Mona aggressively bumped up against
any bi-boy she could find. The yearning look in her eyes
was all the "I want to fuck you" message she needed.
To the parking lot she went with them, to the rooftop, to
the lake, to the cars, even to the manager's office
one night when the manager's assistant was supervising.

Mona found it very easy to get inside any ass she wanted.
She loved the boys' willingness to bend over for her,
to submit for her, to be vulnerable for her, to spread their
secret male places for her. She even loved the rhetoric
that the more political ones used on her:

"This is what every man should have to do before he
fucks a woman."

"This is how I feel equal to a woman."

"I have vagina envy!"

"Make me your ass-bitch!"

"This should be a rite of passage for all men who want
to fuck women."

Mona got any bi-ass she wanted. She even got some of the gay
asses. Once, relenting to pressure, she fucked one of the
lesbians who were always buying her drinks. Mona appreciated
the shapely behind in front of her, with its round, fleshy
cheeks and its well-worn back hole, but it did not impart
the male energy she so desperately wanted to ravage.

Mona fucked the same asses over and over. Soon she was meeting
them in the daytime for quick bendovers. She had a black
book of names, with a star system next to each. She began
to demand that her men blow her cock. She demanded to see
them do some man-on-man action with each other, which she
found hot. She especially loved the ones who brought her
flowers as a prelude to spreading for her. Mona was the king
of Central City, it seemed to her.

And it was getting to her head.

"I swear, " she grunted to one of them, in whose
behind she was grinding her biggest strap-on, "I
get one of these things and I turn into the biggest asshole.
I want to stick it into everything in sight--asses, mouths,
between the cheeks, in the face...."


You can imagine what happened eventually. Mona got tired
of having every ass she could want. She got tired of fucking
smooth-shaven holes. She got tired of smelling not musk
and sweat, but fine deodorants. She tired of the ease of
it all. She grew weary of this kind of equality. She may as
well have been fucking women. Mona needed more. She longed
for a construction worker with a rugged, muscular ass with
all its hair and manliness. She wanted a challenge. She
longed for the stereotypical portrait of manliness. In
a sense, Mona wanted what women were told by society to want.

But still, she wanted to fuck this man in his ass to her content.
Not to his content, but to hers. On her terms.

Soon, Mona began appearing at Club 71 without her cock.
Her lack of cock was noticed by all. Her usual harem of bi-boys
would come up to her excitedly but hear "Sorry, not
tonight." They pouted. They pleaded. They ground
up against her now-deflated mound on the dance floor. But
she could not answer their questioning looks to their satisfaction.
Some offered to grow out their ass hair just for her. But
it was not the same anymore. Eventually, the line of hungry
young butts trickled to a halt. Norm began to get more men
than she did.

The once-vivacious Mona now sat at the bar, stirring her
drink, carrying on vapid conversations, leaving early,
and masturbating at home. The passion had not left her entirely.
Rather, it just retreated.

This went on for quite a while.


She saw him. HIM. Big and muscular, with what must have been
the tightest, shapeliest ass she had ever seen. One that
obviously received plenty of attention in the workout
room. The man walked with an air of true confidence, one
where egotism was an unwelcome stranger. Her gaydar told
her that he was bi. For the whole night, she watched him.

He drank his drinks slowly and with feeling, not with abandon.
On the dance floor, he moved with a kind of well-worked grace,
gyrating with both men and women. It was hard to tell which
sex he liked more.

Mona watched him for a whole week while sitting at the bar
alone, playing with the straw in her drink. She was mesmerized
by his looks, his presence, everything. She asked Norm
to scout him out and report back with information.

A few days later, Norm gave her his assessment: "He's
interested. He knows all about you. Go for it!"

The next Saturday night, Mona was packing. Excitement
filled her whole body. The dancefloor was abuzz with rumors
from near and far that much bending over would be done that
night. But who? they speculated. Sales of Astroglide rose
between 9 pm and midnight that day.

Mona had arrived at Club 71 early, wearing a skirt, and waiting.
Norm was with her. "He's an electrician, "
Norm told her. "Name's Mike. Not in a relationship
now. Big cock--I checked him out at the urinal--I'd
say eight and a half inches hard. Pretty hairy ... and he
goes to church every Sunday."

Mona turned to look at Norm. Her large, playful green eyes
studied him. "A guy from Club 71 goes to church? Are
you serious?"

Norm nodded. "Yup. Church." He winked at her.

Mona's nose wrinkled slightly. Then she shrugged.
"Oh well. We all have our ... oh geeze, nevermind."

Mona imagined Mike up on a ladder doing his work. She imagined
herself coming up to him and pulling down his pants as he
worked and grabbing his large dick from between his well-formed
cheeks, then jacking it while he tried to ignore her. She
saw him putting down his wires and pliers and pushing out
his ass toward her, then letting her climb up the ladder
and ram her tool up his hungry hiney.

At 9:30 Mike walked in alone, executing a confident entrance
that had Mona's feminine juices beginning to soak
her cock. She squirmed in her seat. Her cunt ached terribly.

"Norm, I'm so damn horny, " she said. Norm
watched as Mona crossed her legs in that special way for
a few moments, then let out a sigh. She had cum.

"There. That should do it for a while." She wiped
a few beads of sweat off her brow.

They watched as Mona's heartthrob had a drink at the
bar, just ten feet away, and talked with some friends. He
periodically shot her a glance and smiled. Mona wondered
whether he would buy her a drink, or come over to her. But
he did not.

"Why won't he hit on me?" she asked Norm.

"I don't know. Maybe he wants you to hit on him."

Mona didn't like hearing that. "Oh, for Pete's
sake." Then she remembered something that her lesbian
fuck had said to her: "She who packs, pays. The fuckee
makes the greater sacrifice by allowing his or her body
to be penetrated, and thus is entitled to preferential
treatment." She motioned the bartender over and
had him send Mike another of whatever he was drinking. When
Mike saw this, he looked to Mona, and she waved to him. He
smiled. He did not get up and join the excited young woman.

"Mona, he's playing hard to get, " Norm
told her. "I know his type well."

"I'm the one who always played hard to get. What
should I do?"

Norm thought for a moment. "I know. When he gets up
to dance, follow him, and give his ass hell."

Mona smiled. "Yes. Yes, you're right. Norm,
you know exactly what a girl wants." She giggled her
blonde head off, squeezing her thighs together for another
orgasm. By now her panties were so wet she couldn't
stand it. She headed for the bathroom, removed them, wrapped
them in paper towel, left the bathroom, and quickly sold
them to Marcel, one of her earliest and most gracious fucks,
for $20. Then she returned and waited.

And waited. As she kept her eyes on Mike, she became aware
of her private odor wafting upward. It was heavy, like a
strong spray of ocean mist slapping her in the face. It only
turned her on more as she--


He was getting up! Mona started. She grabbed Norm's
shoulder. "This is it."

He didn't even look back to check on the smoldering,
fiery crotch named Mona as he headed for the dance floor.
By now it was burning up the chair she was on. As soon as his
feet touched the dance floor, Mona was gone. Not even a good-bye
to Norm.

She positioned herself about ten feet away from Mike as
he quickly found the groove and joined it. "He's
a good dancer, " she thought. "Great rhythm."

She watched as he moved, smiling each time he made eye contact
with her. He made no attempt to work his way over to her. "Damnit, "
she whispered. Not missing a beat, she sidled up to the mysterious
man and moved along with him.

She immediately felt his energy, his motion, his pheromones.
Up close, she swooned at the smile on his face. He reached
out and caressed the sides of her arms. She did the same to
him. She winked at him. He winked at her. She thrust her chest
out. He didn't. She thrust her crotch out. He didn't.
When he turned around for a second, she moved in for the kill.


After her playful but aggressive grinding of the dildo
into his ass, he turned and wagged his finger at her. So she
did it again, this time to his front. The dance floor was
crowded, but there were eyes nevertheless trained on her
from all corners of the area. He laughed and wagged his finger
again. So she grabbed his shoulders and rubbed her dick
on his.

"Knock it off!" he told her.


"I said, knock it off!"

"He's playing hard to get, " she thought.
And she deftly moved her body behind his and let him know
exactly what she had in store for him.

Suddenly Mike stopped dancing. Not looking at Mona, he
walked off the dance floor very quickly. He left the building.
Mona followed him at top speed.

Mona was stunned. "What's--what's wrong?"
she called out.

"You, that's what's wrong. Is that any way
to introduce yourself?"

"Wh-- ... here at Club 71, yes!"

"Well, that's what's wrong with this place.
Everyone wants it in the worst possible way! You people
have no manners! If you want my ass, you have to earn it!"

Mona narrowed her Nordic eyes at him. "Sheeee-iiiiit, "
she drawled out. "I will never have to earn ass! Nobody's!
My middle name is PEG for a reason! Ha!"

Then, like a bird swooping in for the kill, Mike's hand
slapped her right in the face. She jumped back. "Holy
fuck! What gives you the right to do that to a lady?"

"What gives a lady the right to think she talk like
that to a man and still expect to get his body?"

Mona didn't know what to say. She had messed something
up, that was for sure. As she looked aside, hoping that some
words would jump out of the bushes at her, she didn't
notice Mike walking away. When she turned back, he was climbing
into his truck and leaving.

"I can't believe this, " she said to the
two drag queens walking past her.


Mona pouted for a whole week. Norm consoled her, buying
her chocolates and liqueurs and giving her shoulder rubs.

"He seemed so perfect, Norm! What the hell is wrong
with you men? Tell me!"

Instead of indulging her wounded feelings, Norm suggested
that perhaps this was a good thing for her. Perhaps there
was a larger reason for it. "You know, " he said
with a shrug, "maybe it's high time some class
came to this town. I say, let's see what happens this
weekend. You will be there, yes?"

Mona paused. "I don't know."

Well, she WAS there. With Norm, she walked in at 9:00, minus
her usual pep and vigor. Her strap-on was safely stowed
away in her purse. Several sets of eyes darted down to her
crotch region as she walked in. They looked away, clearly
disappointed. "Fuck 'em, " Mona thought.

At 9:30 sharp, the Mystery Man himself walked in, cutting
the air with his confident swagger. He smiled at Mona and
took a seat at the bar, chatting away with one of Mona's
old fucks.

She got an idea. She motioned the bartender over and had
him send Mike another of whatever he was drinking. When
the drink came his way, she seductively motioned him forward
with her index finger.

"Norm, I'm about to get some ass tonight, "
she said. "Excuse me."

Then Mike got up and moved her way. Mona stood up, held out
her hand, and shook his. It was a firm, strong handshake
that sent torrents of tingling emotion straight to her
sweaty clit. Her knees wobbled. "Oh, Momma mia, "
she thought.

"My name is Mona. I've been watching you from

"As have I, " said Mike. "You are quite
the legend here at Club 71."

"Why, thank you, " said Mona. "I hear
quite a lot of good things about you."

I'm not an easy lay, he said to himself. Wait till you
find that out.

Norm suddenly announced he needed to talk to someone on
the other end of the bar, and beat a hasty retreat. With the
two lovebirds alone, and Mona's pussy pounding with
fear and excitement, they started talking.

And talking. And talking. And talking. Mona was amazed
that she was spending so much time talking. She found herself
baring her neck, cocking her head, playing with her hair--everything
that behavioral anthropologists had noted, only naturally.

She found herself more than interested in his life. He had
hobbies, he traveled, he was close with his family. And
he went to church every Sunday at nine a.m., where he listened
intently to the sermon and later had coffee with the old
ladies on the church committee.

Maybe he'll introduce me to the old ladies! Mona thought.
If I can pass their inspection, I've got hope for a bright
future with this man!


And so they went to First Community Lutheran Church one
warm Sunday morning at nine. Decked in a white dress, and
walking the one block that the church was from her apartment,
Mona was nervous. What if someone else from Club 71 was there?
What if they checked to see whether she was packing? What
if the old ladies were on to her?

After they sat down, Mona looked around the church. Like
Mike, she had been raised Lutheran, but had fallen away
as soon as she left for college. Religion had all seemed
so ... unlifely, if that was a word. Staid, unenergetic.
Unbodily. Detached. Where was God in a life like that?

But not Mike. He sang with pleasure and glee, and she watched
him from the corner of her eye as he did this. He listened
raptly as the pastor talked about ... whatever it was, she
wasn't listening to it. Just sitting next to a man who
could come alive in a church, on a dance floor, and (allegedly)
on the business end of a strap-on fascinated her to no end.
For the first time about twenty years, she was actually
enjoying herself in church.

Afterward, they did the donuts and coffee thing downstairs,
and Mike introduced his date to the obligatory klatch of
old ladies. They chatted for a while. "Do they know
how he spends his weekends?" she thought to herself.
"This guy is quite slick, I must say." She raised
her eyebrows instinctively when Mabel, church secretary,
told the young couple that they looked very fitting together.

Walking back to his truck, Mona turned to him and blurted,
"Mike, I don't care if I ever get to fuck you in
your hot, sweaty, extremely muscular and finely shaped
ass with my strap-on ... I'm having a lot of fun just
being with you."

Mike looked back at her. "Do you mean that?"

"Yes. Yes. I had no idea church could be fun."

"Now THAT means a lot to me. Mona, I think the reason
you lost interest in all those guys you were fucking before
is that they were just butts to you. For sex to be interesting,
you have to be having sex with the whole person--with all
the emotions, risks, and personality that a person has.
If it's just the butt, then it gets boring fast."

Mona nodded. "Yes, Mike. I know that now."

Mona gave him an unwieldy, giggling display of lips and
teeth. "Wanna ... cruise around the lake or something?"

And they did. And when they were done, Mike brought his young
date's face to his and kissed it gently but firmly.
Mona's knees shook noticeably. "Mona, "
he said. "I want to have lunch with you at least twice
this week, plus the theater on Wednesday night, and on Friday,
my ass will be yours."

Tears almost came to the young woman's eyes. "If
that's what you want, Mike, " she whispered.
Then she caught herself. "I mean yes. YES. I will be


Friday night they really tore up the dance floor. Mike had
picked up Mona earlier in the night, and she showed him what
she was packing. He blushed when he saw the hair sticking
out the sides of her cock. on the dance floor, his cock was
visibly hard as they did Latin dance with Mona behind him.
Her cunt juices were now running down her legs, something
her date noticed. As they rested for a moment at one point,
he ran his finger along her juiced-up leg and licked it clean.
He sighed.

Mona came.

At one in the morning, she invited Mike outside to cool off.
She led him to his truck and climbed into the back seat. Invisible
to others from the tinted windows, she ravaged his strong
chest; he ravaged her big Swedish boobs with their big pink
nipples. He gave her a handjob, expertly working her cock
so it rubbed her clit to five orgasms in half an hour. Sensing
her cue, she reached in and took out the huge cock that had
been waiting for her. It was magnificent. Tall and proud,
with a large rounded head, it literally throbbed in her
hands. She gently but expertly massaged his huge member.
He bucked against it.

"Rub your pussy and let me smell it!" he commanded.

Mona reached under her dildo and rubbed her sopping pussy,
then brought her fingers to his nose. He inhaled the strong
perfume that was now filling the cabin. "I've
GOT to have that!" he proclaimed. With that, they
got into a 69 and ravaged each other. He pushed aside her
cock and drove his tongue deep inside her wet hole. Her cum
drenched his face. He moved down further and put his tongue
to her clean, warm pucker, where he tickled her to tears.
On the other end, Mona had begun licking Mike's cock
and taking the head as far into her mouth as she could. In
minutes, he poured a hot stream of thick, white cum into
her mouth. She struggled to swallow it all. It was sweet,
very sweet.

But all was not over. Mike raced them home to his place. Once
inside, in his bedroom, she moved behind him and squeezed
his asscheeks.

"Oh, oh, oh, oh, " she squealed. "So heavenly."
She reached inside and felt his manly butt. It was hairy,
from the crack to the outer cheeks. It was sweaty. Mona reached
around and unbuckled his belt, then pulled his pants down.
There they stood--his muscular, gleaming ass cheeks.
Like a monument to the god of derriere.

Mike removed his shirt at this time, and Mona took off his
shoes and socks. He was naked before her. Gently, she reached
into his cheeks and spread them. He bent over. Mona sighed
and whimpered. Mike's hole was pink and puckery, ringed
with dark hair, and oh-so sweaty. She couldn't stop
herself. She put her face to his crack and rubbed it in, feeling
the heat and the musk of his naked behind. For two whole minutes
she indulged herself in his ass; her orgy was broken only
by the words "Mona, please fuck me in the ass!"

Mona sprang up and removed her clothes. Her big plastic
cock sprang forth, ready to pound her man.

"Bend over, my lovely man, " she ordered him.

As he did so, she again marveled at the naked derriere arrayed
so splendidly, so manly and yet so submissive. Mike handed
her three packets of lube from his shirt pocket. Quickly,
she greased up her cock, then squeezed the rest into his
hole, reaching in and feeling the warmth there. Then, she
placed the tip of her invader to his hole ... and pushed.

It slid in easily. Mike sighed and relaxed as he allowed
her in. Once she was in, she began fucking him with a smooth
rhythm, except during moments when he demanded it harder
and faster.

Mona came four times as she fucked her man's ass. He
came once. Mona looked to the ceiling and giggled as they
fucked. She suddenly realized she was happier than she'd
been in a long time.


Later that night, at 4 a.m., after some cocktails, analingus,
and conversation, Mike slid his cock into Mona's pussy.
It was his first such time in over three years, and her first
time in nearly two.

"You were worth waiting for, " he said to her
as they relaxed afterward. His cock was still in her. She
was utterly spent.

Her hair was sticking out in fifty directions, she could
barely speak in multiple syllables, and her body radiated
a sweet scent that mixed with his. They were high.

Mona looked at her new mate. "Do you fuck on Sundays?"

He smiled. "There's nothing like going to church
with a throbbing ass. Mabel would never suspect a thing!"


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long ass post jeez.


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cant even get myself to read it


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good storie, I like it.