Lake_Whore
Lake_Whore
by edintx99
The lake—water crystal clear and sparkling in the sun—was on one side of the narrow sandy trail. Small boulders and rocks, bleeding out to a desert landscape were on the other. A jagged mountain range rose starkly in the distance.
I’d been hiking since sunrise, the cool morning air now turned furnace-hot by the mid-day sun. I had chosen this isolated trail to clear my mind of the week’s burdens. I hadn’t seen a soul the entire time.
I shed my T-shirt, rung it out, and adjusted the straw cowboy hat on my head. I laid shirt flat on a waist-high, flat boulder to dry and then decided to sit down on it. I took a sip from my canteen and looked out over the lake.
I heard a scuffle of dirt and gravel, out of sight, down the trail. When I looked up I saw her: short cutoff jean-shorts, long legs, full breasts tied up in a red plaid cotton shirt.
She stopped. I stared. She stared and licked her lips. She shuffled her hiking boots on the dusty trail. “Water?”
“Sure.” I handed her the canteen.
I watched her lips as she took a small sip, then her slim neck as she swallowed a larger gulp. She brushed a hand through her long brown hair and handed back the canteen. “Thanks, Mine was empty.” She stood, hands on hips, and looked out over the lake.
She was the perfect age. The muscles in her bare stomach and legs suggested she was in her twenties. But the thinning in her face and her jaw line suggested thirties and a very successful workout schedule that kept her hyper fit. Her caramel- brown tan complexion offset a startling pair of clear blue eyes.
I didn’t say anything. I waited for her to speak.
I’d seen her at the bar last night. She had at first been bubbly and flirtatious. Since I had a date with me, I had been direct.
I had pointed across the room at an approaching woman. “That woman is mine.”
She had paused, examining first my date and then me. “Yours?”
“Yes. She belongs to me.”
Her manner had changed. In a truly apologetic tone, she had said “My apologies… sir.” Then she had averted her gaze and moved over two seats.
She must have overhead us talking about this hike. She had to know what I was--and what she would receive--or she would not have come to this isolated spot.
She broke the long silence. “My name’s Jenny.”
I nodded my head and raised a questioning eyebrow.
She looked me up and down once, pausing at my muscular chest and thighs. I stared back, hard. She dropped her head and looked at ground. Head still bowed, she gazed up at me through the veil of her shining hair.
I gave her a small smile. Sometimes a woman new to my life required encouragement or supplemental training. I pointed at the ground. “Kneel.”
She did.
“Crawl to me.”
She shuffled her knees through the sandy trail dirt, head down, until she was in front of my spread knees.
“What do you want?”
“You, master.”
“What do you I owe you?”
She paused and said quietly, “Nothing, master.”
I nodded and tugged lightly at her shirt. “Strip.”
She didn’t hesitate. She untied the **** on the blouse and peeled it back. Her breasts were a perfect size for my large hands. They didn’t spill out or sag, just stayed firm on her chest. Her aureoles were large and her nipples hard. She tossed the shirt to the side and resumed her penitent position: firm buttocks on ankles, head lowered, eyes averted.
Dribbles of sweat trickled down her neck, the valley between her breasts and pooled in her navel. I reached out and squeezed one firm breast and then the other with my right hand.
Her breathing became shallow and rapid. I pushed her hair behind her back, picked up my twisted T-shirt and wrapped it around her slim neck. She started to look up.
I raised my right hand, palm facing her, as if to slap her. She flinched and looked back down. As I had suspected, she had some training.
I pulled the T-shirt tight against her throat. Her face started to turn red. I tightened it some more. She began to sob but otherwise didn’t move.
I stopped, and she inhaled several raspy breaths of air. She was almost ready.
I unraveled the T-shirt and commanded, “Jenny, pull down your shorts.”
She immediately unbuckled her braided leather belt and skinned her shorts and thong down to her knees. The lips of her shaved cunt looked puffy. The rate of her breathing increased. I could almost imagine hearing her heart beating.
“Finger yourself.”
Her voice was light and happy. “Yes, master!”
She put first one and then two fingers up her pussy to the second knuckle. She eased them slowly in and out, in and out.
“Faster, bitch.”
She immediately complied. “Yes, master. Faster? Harder?”
She flinched, anticipating that I would strike her for speaking without permission, but I didn’t. “Yes, whore.”
She complied. Emboldened she said, “Yes, I am your whore, master. Does this please you?”
“Yes, whore. Harder, faster.”
She was frantically jamming three fingers fully inside of herself with one hand and rubbing her clit with the other. I could see her thighs tensing and the flush running up her belly and her breasts. “Look at me, my little whore.”
She tilted her head up. Her eyes were wide, her nostrils flaring. I could tell she was close.
I was close, just from watching her. My cock, hard as a stone, extended down the left leg of my shorts. The tip was just peeking out of the ten inch inseam.
“Stop. Now!”
She gave me a pitiful look and wailed, “Now, master?”
I backhanded her for questioning me. She stopped fingering, writhing on her knees, making little whimpering noises.
I unclipped my bowie knife. The handle was antler, ribbed, and six inches long. The blade was another six inches but enclosed in an integral black plastic sheath. I tossed it between her knees.
“Cut off your shorts.”
She scooped it up and complied. The blade was razor sharp. The shorts fell away. All she had on now were heavy leather trail boots and thick socks extending a couple inches above.
“Sheath the blade, and fuck yourself.”
The look of adoration in her face was unimaginable. She glanced at my eyes and then the head of my cock which was now fully visible beyond the leg of my shorts. She took a deep breath and stuffed the knife’s handle full into her pussy.
She was jamming it in and out with the frenetic energy of a serial killer trying to get in her fifty stabs before the police arrived. She was doing it so hard I thought the sheath would slip-off in her hand.
It didn’t. She continued and kept alternating her eyes between mine and the head of my cock. I stood, dropped my shorts and exposed all ten inches of my thick bulging erection. Astonishingly, her pace quickened.
A half step and the shiny purple tip of my dick was waving in front of her mouth. I grabbed her head and thrust it half way down her throat. She gagged but kept masturbating herself. I straddled my legs for better balance and slowly pressed my stiff member fully inside.
I had never had a woman’s throat open so easily. It was like fucking an asshole, tight. But it all went in, all the way to my ball sack. I slid out and slid in again. Amazing!
She started to spasm for lack of breath, and I withdrew. She coughed and gagged again, this time a thick sputum dribbling out her throat and down her chin. Her clear blue eyes were locked on mine. Realizing she had stopped while gagging, she jammed the knife handle back into her cunt and continued at an even faster pace.
I wondered just how well her previous master had trained her.
I sat back down on the boulder. She was panting from her efforts. Sweat now ran down her hard body in rivulets, her hair was matted and her chest heaving.
“Jenny, do you want this?” I gestured at my hard cock, now pointing straight up in the air.
“Oh god, yes, sir.” She reached out for it, but I slapped her hand away. “Oh, please, please, master.”
“Pleasure me with your cunt.”
She pulled out the knife handle, leapt off the ground and straddled me. She reached down, hand over hand, grasped me at the base and slowly inserted the head it into her dripping pussy. God, it felt furnace hot, just like the rock beneath us, just like the sun beating down on us from above.
I let out a low moan. “Ahhhh. Jesus Christ.”
Her teeth bared in a wide grin at my pleasure. In one smooth move she slid all ten inches inside and sat down, hard, on my thighs. Her legs clamped around my waist like a vise.
I grabbed her tight, muscular ass and pulled her close. She slid her arms under my armpits and clasped my shoulders from the back, pulling her hard nipples against my bare chest.
Her eyes were staring directly into mine, an inch away. I could feel her hot breath on my face; the sweat of our bodies made us slick together.
I gave her a long full kiss and whispered, “Jenny, ride. Ride hard.”
She whispered back in a husky voice, “Yes…my master.”
We were a single a****l, in perfect synchronicity. My cock never slid out more than an inch. As she bucked back, I followed. As she thrust down, my hips pivoted back. Pelvis to pelvis we rocked and thrust and ground against each other.
The lake shimmered over her shoulder. The air around us felt superheated. But a slight breeze cooled the pools of sweat drenching our body as the seconds turned to minutes… and I lost count of time.
I grunted with the effort to keep up with this hellion and resisted my own urge to orgasm. It was my duty to pleasure my slave as well. Finally, panting and moaning, she came once, then twice.
Shaking and muscles rolling from her orgasms, yet she kept up the pace. She screamed in my face. “Cum for me. Cum for me, master!”
“Whore?”
Rocking and gyrating in my lap, she panted in my face, “Yes, master. I’m your whore, master.”
“Are you ready to receive?”
“Yes, master!”
I lifted her off me and dropped her to the ground. She crumpled but righted herself to the penitent position: buttocks on ankles, hands in lap, head down.
With one finger, I raised her chin to view my pulsing, thick-veined cock bobbing in the air. Without touching myself, I ejaculated my first load. “Uh…Uh… Uhhhh.” Thin, clear fluid sprayed her face.
She quickly opened her mouth.
I used this liquid as lube and stroked myself—once, twice—a long thick stream of creamy white cum exploded out of my cock and down her throat. “Ah, gods, fuck. Fuck!”
She gagged at first but then swallowed to accommodate it.
Another three jacks and the rest followed. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Three, heavy, short spurts and then a long dribbling stream covered her upraised face.
Her tongue was licking right and left. I knew she longed to milk the rest of my gift. “Proceed, whore.”
She wrapped both hands around the base of my still hard cock and began stroking and squeezing it. Another two short shots of cum spurted out. “Ah god. God!”
She grabbed my balls, two handed, pressed against my prostate and squeezed my sack repeatedly.
More cum dribbled out, dripping all over her now fully cum-covered face. After a couple minutes she ceased her efforts to extract more.
My chest was heaving, sweating drenching my face, hair and chest.
Jenny began scooping up the cum with one hand, eating some, smearing the rest down her breasts and belly. All the time she stared adoringly into my eyes and stroked my cock with the other. As her hand rounded the tip of my cum-slick glans for the last time, she said, “Did I please you, sir?”
I looked out at the lake and then down at her. “Yes, Jenny. You were a good girl. You are now mine as well.”
by edintx99
The lake—water crystal clear and sparkling in the sun—was on one side of the narrow sandy trail. Small boulders and rocks, bleeding out to a desert landscape were on the other. A jagged mountain range rose starkly in the distance.
I’d been hiking since sunrise, the cool morning air now turned furnace-hot by the mid-day sun. I had chosen this isolated trail to clear my mind of the week’s burdens. I hadn’t seen a soul the entire time.
I shed my T-shirt, rung it out, and adjusted the straw cowboy hat on my head. I laid shirt flat on a waist-high, flat boulder to dry and then decided to sit down on it. I took a sip from my canteen and looked out over the lake.
I heard a scuffle of dirt and gravel, out of sight, down the trail. When I looked up I saw her: short cutoff jean-shorts, long legs, full breasts tied up in a red plaid cotton shirt.
She stopped. I stared. She stared and licked her lips. She shuffled her hiking boots on the dusty trail. “Water?”
“Sure.” I handed her the canteen.
I watched her lips as she took a small sip, then her slim neck as she swallowed a larger gulp. She brushed a hand through her long brown hair and handed back the canteen. “Thanks, Mine was empty.” She stood, hands on hips, and looked out over the lake.
She was the perfect age. The muscles in her bare stomach and legs suggested she was in her twenties. But the thinning in her face and her jaw line suggested thirties and a very successful workout schedule that kept her hyper fit. Her caramel- brown tan complexion offset a startling pair of clear blue eyes.
I didn’t say anything. I waited for her to speak.
I’d seen her at the bar last night. She had at first been bubbly and flirtatious. Since I had a date with me, I had been direct.
I had pointed across the room at an approaching woman. “That woman is mine.”
She had paused, examining first my date and then me. “Yours?”
“Yes. She belongs to me.”
Her manner had changed. In a truly apologetic tone, she had said “My apologies… sir.” Then she had averted her gaze and moved over two seats.
She must have overhead us talking about this hike. She had to know what I was--and what she would receive--or she would not have come to this isolated spot.
She broke the long silence. “My name’s Jenny.”
I nodded my head and raised a questioning eyebrow.
She looked me up and down once, pausing at my muscular chest and thighs. I stared back, hard. She dropped her head and looked at ground. Head still bowed, she gazed up at me through the veil of her shining hair.
I gave her a small smile. Sometimes a woman new to my life required encouragement or supplemental training. I pointed at the ground. “Kneel.”
She did.
“Crawl to me.”
She shuffled her knees through the sandy trail dirt, head down, until she was in front of my spread knees.
“What do you want?”
“You, master.”
“What do you I owe you?”
She paused and said quietly, “Nothing, master.”
I nodded and tugged lightly at her shirt. “Strip.”
She didn’t hesitate. She untied the **** on the blouse and peeled it back. Her breasts were a perfect size for my large hands. They didn’t spill out or sag, just stayed firm on her chest. Her aureoles were large and her nipples hard. She tossed the shirt to the side and resumed her penitent position: firm buttocks on ankles, head lowered, eyes averted.
Dribbles of sweat trickled down her neck, the valley between her breasts and pooled in her navel. I reached out and squeezed one firm breast and then the other with my right hand.
Her breathing became shallow and rapid. I pushed her hair behind her back, picked up my twisted T-shirt and wrapped it around her slim neck. She started to look up.
I raised my right hand, palm facing her, as if to slap her. She flinched and looked back down. As I had suspected, she had some training.
I pulled the T-shirt tight against her throat. Her face started to turn red. I tightened it some more. She began to sob but otherwise didn’t move.
I stopped, and she inhaled several raspy breaths of air. She was almost ready.
I unraveled the T-shirt and commanded, “Jenny, pull down your shorts.”
She immediately unbuckled her braided leather belt and skinned her shorts and thong down to her knees. The lips of her shaved cunt looked puffy. The rate of her breathing increased. I could almost imagine hearing her heart beating.
“Finger yourself.”
Her voice was light and happy. “Yes, master!”
She put first one and then two fingers up her pussy to the second knuckle. She eased them slowly in and out, in and out.
“Faster, bitch.”
She immediately complied. “Yes, master. Faster? Harder?”
She flinched, anticipating that I would strike her for speaking without permission, but I didn’t. “Yes, whore.”
She complied. Emboldened she said, “Yes, I am your whore, master. Does this please you?”
“Yes, whore. Harder, faster.”
She was frantically jamming three fingers fully inside of herself with one hand and rubbing her clit with the other. I could see her thighs tensing and the flush running up her belly and her breasts. “Look at me, my little whore.”
She tilted her head up. Her eyes were wide, her nostrils flaring. I could tell she was close.
I was close, just from watching her. My cock, hard as a stone, extended down the left leg of my shorts. The tip was just peeking out of the ten inch inseam.
“Stop. Now!”
She gave me a pitiful look and wailed, “Now, master?”
I backhanded her for questioning me. She stopped fingering, writhing on her knees, making little whimpering noises.
I unclipped my bowie knife. The handle was antler, ribbed, and six inches long. The blade was another six inches but enclosed in an integral black plastic sheath. I tossed it between her knees.
“Cut off your shorts.”
She scooped it up and complied. The blade was razor sharp. The shorts fell away. All she had on now were heavy leather trail boots and thick socks extending a couple inches above.
“Sheath the blade, and fuck yourself.”
The look of adoration in her face was unimaginable. She glanced at my eyes and then the head of my cock which was now fully visible beyond the leg of my shorts. She took a deep breath and stuffed the knife’s handle full into her pussy.
She was jamming it in and out with the frenetic energy of a serial killer trying to get in her fifty stabs before the police arrived. She was doing it so hard I thought the sheath would slip-off in her hand.
It didn’t. She continued and kept alternating her eyes between mine and the head of my cock. I stood, dropped my shorts and exposed all ten inches of my thick bulging erection. Astonishingly, her pace quickened.
A half step and the shiny purple tip of my dick was waving in front of her mouth. I grabbed her head and thrust it half way down her throat. She gagged but kept masturbating herself. I straddled my legs for better balance and slowly pressed my stiff member fully inside.
I had never had a woman’s throat open so easily. It was like fucking an asshole, tight. But it all went in, all the way to my ball sack. I slid out and slid in again. Amazing!
She started to spasm for lack of breath, and I withdrew. She coughed and gagged again, this time a thick sputum dribbling out her throat and down her chin. Her clear blue eyes were locked on mine. Realizing she had stopped while gagging, she jammed the knife handle back into her cunt and continued at an even faster pace.
I wondered just how well her previous master had trained her.
I sat back down on the boulder. She was panting from her efforts. Sweat now ran down her hard body in rivulets, her hair was matted and her chest heaving.
“Jenny, do you want this?” I gestured at my hard cock, now pointing straight up in the air.
“Oh god, yes, sir.” She reached out for it, but I slapped her hand away. “Oh, please, please, master.”
“Pleasure me with your cunt.”
She pulled out the knife handle, leapt off the ground and straddled me. She reached down, hand over hand, grasped me at the base and slowly inserted the head it into her dripping pussy. God, it felt furnace hot, just like the rock beneath us, just like the sun beating down on us from above.
I let out a low moan. “Ahhhh. Jesus Christ.”
Her teeth bared in a wide grin at my pleasure. In one smooth move she slid all ten inches inside and sat down, hard, on my thighs. Her legs clamped around my waist like a vise.
I grabbed her tight, muscular ass and pulled her close. She slid her arms under my armpits and clasped my shoulders from the back, pulling her hard nipples against my bare chest.
Her eyes were staring directly into mine, an inch away. I could feel her hot breath on my face; the sweat of our bodies made us slick together.
I gave her a long full kiss and whispered, “Jenny, ride. Ride hard.”
She whispered back in a husky voice, “Yes…my master.”
We were a single a****l, in perfect synchronicity. My cock never slid out more than an inch. As she bucked back, I followed. As she thrust down, my hips pivoted back. Pelvis to pelvis we rocked and thrust and ground against each other.
The lake shimmered over her shoulder. The air around us felt superheated. But a slight breeze cooled the pools of sweat drenching our body as the seconds turned to minutes… and I lost count of time.
I grunted with the effort to keep up with this hellion and resisted my own urge to orgasm. It was my duty to pleasure my slave as well. Finally, panting and moaning, she came once, then twice.
Shaking and muscles rolling from her orgasms, yet she kept up the pace. She screamed in my face. “Cum for me. Cum for me, master!”
“Whore?”
Rocking and gyrating in my lap, she panted in my face, “Yes, master. I’m your whore, master.”
“Are you ready to receive?”
“Yes, master!”
I lifted her off me and dropped her to the ground. She crumpled but righted herself to the penitent position: buttocks on ankles, hands in lap, head down.
With one finger, I raised her chin to view my pulsing, thick-veined cock bobbing in the air. Without touching myself, I ejaculated my first load. “Uh…Uh… Uhhhh.” Thin, clear fluid sprayed her face.
She quickly opened her mouth.
I used this liquid as lube and stroked myself—once, twice—a long thick stream of creamy white cum exploded out of my cock and down her throat. “Ah, gods, fuck. Fuck!”
She gagged at first but then swallowed to accommodate it.
Another three jacks and the rest followed. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Three, heavy, short spurts and then a long dribbling stream covered her upraised face.
Her tongue was licking right and left. I knew she longed to milk the rest of my gift. “Proceed, whore.”
She wrapped both hands around the base of my still hard cock and began stroking and squeezing it. Another two short shots of cum spurted out. “Ah god. God!”
She grabbed my balls, two handed, pressed against my prostate and squeezed my sack repeatedly.
More cum dribbled out, dripping all over her now fully cum-covered face. After a couple minutes she ceased her efforts to extract more.
My chest was heaving, sweating drenching my face, hair and chest.
Jenny began scooping up the cum with one hand, eating some, smearing the rest down her breasts and belly. All the time she stared adoringly into my eyes and stroked my cock with the other. As her hand rounded the tip of my cum-slick glans for the last time, she said, “Did I please you, sir?”
I looked out at the lake and then down at her. “Yes, Jenny. You were a good girl. You are now mine as well.”
9年前
