Bill Karen Sue Rick And Gillian

BILL:

Just a few weeks ago Karen and I celebrated our third wedding anniversary. That is an important point in time, and it is very germane to this story, but it is not where our story begins. To understand our happiness you must first understand the unhappiness that preceded our union.

I would not presume to try and tell you Karen's story. She can add that later if she wants. As for me, well my part of the story begins with the "bitch from hell," also known as Sue. In fairness to Sue, and so you do not completely question my sanity, she did not start our relationship with that title. When we first met she was adorable, sweet, kind, generous, without a jealous bone in her body, and before we married she proved repeatedly she was a wonderful, caring, and adventurous lover.

That woman was willing to try anything sexual, be it at her initiation or mine. For example, one night I came home from work to find her at my apartment perched on my bed, wearing only a black leather vest and a pair of black thigh-high boots, propped up on her hands and knees, with her ass pointing toward me, and a tube of "K-Y Jelly" in her hand. She looked back over her shoulder at me and said, "Bill, would you like to fuck my ass?" What's a guy to do, say no? Get a grip; I spoke with actions as I stripped off my clothes, and moved toward her with my raging hard-on.

"Bill" she said coyly, " this is my first time so please take it easy as you push that big, hard dick into my tiny, tight, virgin asshole."

She was great! I doubt it was her first ass fuck,; the important point is she created a scene that allowed me to think I was taking her and anal-virginity. I can only speculate if I was her first, she never said otherwise, but what I can say for sure is it wasn't the last time a cock slipped into her anal sanctum.

"Oh look Bill, I've already lubed myself, and I've been practicing by pushing this great big dildo in and out of my asshole. I'm hot Bill, and the only thing left to do is for you to lube your cock and to gently push it into my butt."

Within a nanosecond my prick was in her hand receiving a superlative lube job. Then without any further preparation I moved in back of her, lined the head of my cock up with her poop-chute entry, and slowly pushed my way past her anal sphincter into the recesses of her bowels. Because of her previous stretching the entry proved very easy. I was inside her ass, enjoying its warmth and comfort, and then I felt her contract her anal sphincter around my dick; it was then the fun began.

I had never felt such pressure on my dick. It wasn't enough to prevent my movements in and out; what it did was add an immeasurable amount of pleasure to those movements. Her contraction was much like an exquisite torture as I slid in and out of her ass.

"Harder! Harder, Bill! Fuck my ass harder! Shove your cock into me as hard as you can! I want you to do in harder, damn it."

My cock slammed in and out of her body as hard as I as I have ever pumped into anyone. The speed, force, and constricted pressure on my prick soon cause my balls to expand, and I felt the sensations of an impending orgasm begin to rise toward the tip of my cock. Before I reached that point I heard a tremendous yell of pleasure from Sue, and then I felt her erupt in an orgasmic frenzy; in a frenzy that drove me over the top into a cum of monumental proportions.

Up to that time it was the best fuck of my life, but all good things come with a price. The price for Sue and I, was her personality began to radically change within months after our marriage. Without any provocation or justification, Sue began to suspect me of having affairs with her friends, my coworkers, and even the some of the checkout ladies at the local grocery store.

I'm one of those guys who are entirely faithful, and I swear, I never once gave her any reason to think I was cheating. However, as you probably understand there is often a large gap in the brain-housing group between reality and imagination. In Sue's case, those concepts were not connected items, and imagination seemed to rule. To this day I don't understand what motivated her, or just as important why I tolerated her behavior for so many years. Yes, I said years. We were married ten years, and we had sex for only one of those. One thing that has helped me cope with that period of my life is the idea we each make the best decision we can at a given moment in time. In retrospect the decision may appear wrong, but it was the right at the time. I made some wrong decisions, but it does no good to beat myself up over them; I learn and move onward.

About five years into our marriage Sue changed her alcohol drinking habits. I mean she got into the serious, get down, sloppy drunk, type of drinking. On an increasingly frequent basis she would miss work because she was drunk or hung over. Within the next couple of years she turned into a complete lush. She lost her career, her friends, the love of her family, and ultimately, what little feeling I retained was dissipated. The only entity that loved her was the county court. They loved her a great deal because of all the money her DWI fines added to the county coffers.

Her unhappiness, and all the pain she caused those around her, came to an end near the intersection of Robbins Road and Highway 17. When you pick a head-on argument with an 18-wheeler heading toward you at 70 mph there is little chance for later discussion. The driver said he saw her approaching and watched in horror as she deliberately angled directly for his cab. He blew the horn and tried to maneuver, but there was no way to avoid the collision. Sue died at the scene.

At the funeral I spoke with the few relatives and family friends that attended. They were there to support me; not mourn Sue, and while everyone said they were sorry she was dead it was very apparent than none were really unhappy at her death. I wasn't jumping for joy, but I wasn't unhappy either. What I felt was a deep sense of relief. I could stop kicking myself for playing the fool out of a twisted sense of loyalty, and I could stop worrying about when the telephone call would come; it had at last arrived.

After Sue's death I decided to make a new start. I sold our home, donated all of her things to charity, and my company arranged a transfer to another part of the country. I plunged into that new environment completely immersing myself in the duties of my job. For two years I thought of nobody but myself. There was no room for family, friends, or any non-work relationships. I had to let myself heal after the trauma of that horrible time in my life.

After two years I began to emerge. I began to feel that elemental human drive to be with someone. The problem was I didn't know anybody, I didn't frequent bars, and now that I needed the office matchmakers they weren't there. From the early days after my arrival in town I had made it very clear to all the potential matchmakers that I wasn't interested; and after a while they believed me. But times change, and now I was interested, and to make a long story short I joined one of those national dating services. You probably know the type I'm talking about; a service where you pay a huge fee up front for them to put you in contact with "the right" person. They were good. I met several very nice women, but nothing happened, and as my membership approached the end I was very skeptical of success. On the last date I hit the jackpot; my date was Karen.

Karen is beautiful. Not only is she beautiful in the face, she is smart, ambitious, talented, kind, and has a body to die for. She is 5'3", 110 lb., dark blond hair, green eyes, 34C breasts, a tiny waist, and gorgeous legs. We hit it off immediately, but both of us carried some bad emotional scars, and we were very careful about allowing anyone to get close. That was good in a way; it allowed us time to first become friends, but we both could feel where our hearts were taking us. When we at last made love ---- you could say we made love, but in true terms we FUCKED ----- it was with a passion created from years of masturbation being our only sexual release coupled with tenderness motivated by loving concern for each other.

KAREN:

Hey it's my turn! Before motor mouth says anything further I want to tell my story.

In some ways Bill and I had similar experiences. The big difference is in the type of abuse we withstood. Despite the fact that Bill, who is an excellent lover, went without sex for all those years, his abuse was more mental. I on the other hand was very deep into physical abuse.

Rick, my late ex-husband, was an asshole from the day I met him, but I was young, uneducated, and based on the behavior of my parents and my friend's parents, his behavior was normal. My dad physically assaulted my mother on a regular basis, and it was the same for many of my friends. At any rate, Rick worked at the plant with my dad. I'm not sure who Dad was trying to please, but he set us up on our first date. When your parents arrange a date it clearly says the guy has their seal of approval. It was on that very first date that Rick first hit me. He slapped me when I wasn't quick enough to get his dick out of his pants and into my mouth. The hit hurt, but I thought it was supposed to be that way; just like I thought it was correct to fuck on a first date.

From that first encounter, and for the next seven years, the situation never improved. Things didn't change until Rick was transferred to the city. As I made friends with other company wives I discovered their husbands didn't beat them, and it was from those same friends I gathered the strength to file assault charges against Rick. The support of my friends gave me the strength to make sure I didn't back down like so many other battered wives.

It was difficult on the witness stand, but I stood my ground against the defense lawyer, and the judge sentenced Rick to a very long prison sentence. You should have seen that bastard's mouth drop when the jury said "Guilty." For quite a while after that the thing that scared me most was that Rick would come after me when he was released. That's not a worry anymore. By a roundabout way I heard Rick had died. Apparently, he objected to getting butt fucked and to being some guy's bitch. As a reward for standing up for himself several of the guy's friends laid Rick across a bunk, fucked his butt raw, and then for some unexplained reason, Rick experienced a very bad fall in the shower; broke his neck he did. From my point of view it couldn't have happened to a nicer, or more deserving guy.

I tend to focus on the bad when it comes to that piece of shit, but there were a few good things that came out of my relationship with Rick. I learned to stand up for myself. Not only did I stand up to Rick, but I also told my dad where he could put his threats. I discovered I was smart, and with some help from groups that help abused wives I was able to get my GED and attend college. My academic work earned me a couple of scholarships, and now I'm a lawyer with an MBA. The absolutely best thing that came out of that relationship is my daughter Gillian (pronounced Jillian). She is my pride and joy. I have taught her to stand for herself, to work hard, and to know there is no goal she cannot have if she puts her whole self into attainment of that goal.

When Bill came into our lives it was scary. I wanted to establish a relationship, but it was extremely difficult to let down my barriers enough to let anyone get near me. Just like Bill, I had joined the dating service, and was on the last date of my membership. I had no confidence that anything more would come of this one than had come of the previous eleven.

After our introduction arrived by mail, we talked on the phone a couple of times before we met in person. Actually, we spent a few hours on the phone; we meshed easily and completely. I am sure we talked about everything, and when we met in person it was as if I was talking to an old friend. I knew he was sweet, articulate, and successful. What I wasn't prepared for was his handsomeness, and the perfect way our physical selves blended. At 5'8", and in wonderful physical condition he was ideal.

I particularly thought he was ideal when after several dates we physically consummated our growing love. We didn't plan it. It just happened. We were talking on the couch, but a gentle kiss progressed into a passionate make-out session. As I slipped to the side and laid back, Bill moved alongside me, and I felt his erection on my leg. It was substantial; long, round, and very hard. That contact caused my pussy to begin salivating. Rick may have been a jerk, but he was a pretty good fuck, and so many years had passed without any sexual contact. In an almost instinctive action I grab Bill's dick and at the same time pulled him tight against my body and lips.

Up till then Bill was a perfect gentleman, but my hand grabbing his cock was a very clear signal; he immediately began to move his hand over my blouse rubbing and squeezing my tits. I felt his hand struggling to unbutton my blouse, and when I could no longer stand the frustration I released his dick and ripped apart the buttons myself. Bill immediately forced my bra up over my breasts while I thrust my hand under his waistband and clasped his rigid prick. We squeezed, me grasping the head of his dick, and he mauling my tits and pinching my nipples. The pleasure I felt was overwhelming. I was already beginning to have mini orgasms that were racking my body.

In our passion we rolled off the couch and pushed the coffee table out of the way. Our lips remained locked, but his hand moved away from my tits. Instead of tits he was more interested in moving his hand under my dress toward that area of dark wetness between my legs. I didn't wait for him to move slowly. I spread my legs as far apart as I could; an action that not only allowed, but screamed that he had free access to that most private part. Bill didn't delay as his fingers briefly rubbed my wet panty then slipped inside to rub my extremely wet pussy. I was dripping in anticipation of what was to come, and Bill didn't disappoint. He rubbed the outer lips just long enough to soak his fingers in my juices then he pushed them into my hole. I was in heaven experiencing pure ecstasy.

I wanted more; more than just Bill's fingers. I wanted his cock. With both my hands free I quickly unbelted, unsnapped, and unzipped his pants, and then with a little help pushed his trousers and underwear down to his knees.

"Are you going to mess around with your fingers in my cunt or do you want to fuck!" I said loudly.

Bill moved between my legs, and with both hands ripped my panties down and off my legs. He gazed at my crotch for a few seconds then moved forward aiming his cock at the moist target between my legs. I was so wet he was able to plunge to the bottom of my cunt with a single push. As he slid in I experienced one of the largest and most satisfying cums ever, and that was just the beginning. Take it for granted that Bill didn't last long that first time; his dick was too sensitive, but while he was there my pleasure was intense, and exciting beyond measure. I came like I had never cum before, and I'm pretty sure Bill had a good time also.

BILL:

You better know I had a good time. That was the first time I had put my dick in a woman for close to twelve years. I was astonished I didn't squirt my juices from just seeing her cunt, but I managed to reach the bottom of her pussy three or four times before my balls squirted their potion. My lasting power rapidly increased over the next few thousand times we fucked.

From that evening our relationship moved forward at a very brisk pace. We were both so starved for love and sex that we clung to each other. It was only our sense of duty that forced us daily to separate long enough to go to work. In just a few weeks I asked Karen to marry me, and we set a date for the end of the year. As part of our preparations we purchased --- mortgaged our lives --- and moved into a substantial four-bedroom house with a high wood fence surrounding a large backyard pool and patio. Both the master and Gillian's bedroom look out over the backyard; it was very scenic. The setting was so nice we decided it was the perfect place to have a small wedding. We invited our families and close friends; John, my brother, acted as best man, and Gillian stood for her mother as maid of honor.

Just as an aside, the decision to share my life with Karen is the best one I have ever made. However, don't think our relationship is fairytale perfect. Just like any other couple we have experienced adjustment problems, there were even some robust arguments, but overall things are better than anything I have ever known.

GILLIAN:

Enough! Enough! Enough! Shut the fuck up! I can't believe it; you guys accuse me of talking too much. You've hogged the entire time. I want my turn. After all, I have one of the starring roles in this play, and I have a few things I want to add to the story.

Have you ever thought how suddenly we change from child to adult? In our society it happens with the stroke of the clock; you turn eighteen and you are no longer a child. Because of that change your entire life changes. Many things you did as a child are not acceptable as an adult. The inverse is also true, that many things you can do as an adult were not allowed as a child. There're good reasons for many of those rules, but because of those rules my part of the story must begin on my eighteenth birthday; it was on that day I gave Mom one of the biggest shocks of her life. It was on that day I told her what I wanted more than anything else from her and Bill.

Before we go there I want to tell you a little about myself. As you have heard my real father was an abusive asshole. I was lucky because he never once touched me in a hurtful way, but, even though I was very young, I saw what he did to Mom. Bruises, bloody noses, screaming, and crying made a deep impression in my early years, but I also learned the lesson, and no one will ever treat me like that more than once; they're going to jail.

At about age fourteen, just before Bill came into our lives, I began to discover sex. There are many ways to do that, but for me it came as a group activity with some other kids who lived in our neighborhood. It is one thing to play "if you show me yours I'll show you mine" when your five or six. It is a much different game as a teenager, and we rapidly progressed from simply looking at genitals, to touching, to playing with, to sucking, and finally to insertion. Because we were a mixed group, I learned a great deal about sex with both boys and girls. I liked cock and pussy then, and I like cock and pussy now.

When we moved to the valley I became very popular when after I turned sixteen I was allowed to date. My social life was okay before then, but it fully blossomed after the word leaked out, leaked by me of course, that I liked to fuck; that I liked to fuck boys, girls, alone or in groups, and I wasn't overly selective about whom I allowed between my legs. Yea, yea, yea, I know what your thinking, and I agree. Looking back, my actions were foolish and potentially dangerous, but being a child you do foolish things.

I enjoyed sex, and while I knew adult humans had sex it never really registered on me that Mom and Bill had sex. My gosh, they were my parents. Occasionally, I heard sounds such as moans or wall banging, but I was in denial that old people would do something like fuck. However, a thought process developed regarding my relative position to them, and I questioned what I wanted to do in fourteen years. My rational was that Mom is only fourteen years older than me, and I certainly don't plan to stop fucking when I reach thirty-two. Therefore, if I plan to fuck at that age it makes sense that Mom and Bill must still be fucking. It was like a revelation, and the more I thought about it a plan began to develop; a plan I intended to implement the day I became an adult.