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By the middle of the Summer, the punk rockers were almost ready to record their album. In between their practice sessions, they had plenty of live gigs, and I attended a few. Several pubs, fetes and fayres had booked the anarchist group, and they performed at a couple of concerts where they were further down the running order.
In the bedroom, Natasha pegged me at least four times a week. We tried numerous positions, and I adored her screwing me doggy style, or with my girlfriend on top, pressing herself down on me as I lay prostrate on the bed. She pissed on me daily, spanked me regularly and we had vanilla sex every few days, too. I had never had so much activity or variety in my sex life.
Natasha was open about our sexuality with her bandmates. They already knew she dominated me, but she loved expressing her dominance in front of everyone. It was part of her personality: she had to be the alpha dog.
One weekend, when the band stayed over, she sent me a text message to “clean my arse and come over.” I did as she asked and within sixty seconds of entering the annexe, she had my shorts around my ankles, I was bent over the kitchenette worktop and my girlfriend had a lubricated strap-on dildo fastened to her waist.
Faye took Nessie at the same time, and – side by side – the two band members sodomised their lovers as their fellow rockers downed beer and partied in the ground floor room. Punk music blared from the speakers, as we were roughly taken.
I held onto Nessie’s hand as her lesbian lover buggered her with a bright blue dildo. The young woman groaned and squealed as Faye stretched the lithe submissive’s anal ring, filling her rectum with a thick, meaty dong that was at least ten inches long. It dwarfed Natasha’s toy pounding across my prostate.
Nessie orgasmed; she squeezed my hand as Faye slammed the rubber phallus deep into the young woman’s butt, causing her sweating body to quiver, groan and squeal.
My girlfriend’s aggressive words as she buggered me, as much as the penetration, brought me towards my orgasm. The abuse punctured my dignity and excited every sinew of my perverted sexuality. I loved she was sodomising me. I adored the reality that we had an audience, and I savoured my kinky humiliation. She slapped my butt cheeks and used my waist for leverage as her toy flicked over my prostate.
I had never been taken so publicly; Natasha had never been so forceful. Her fingers dug into my flesh as she jackhammered the dildo, grunting and groaning as she ploughed into me. She fucked me mercilessly, thrusting her prick deep into my sanctuary.
I felt my climax well, as my cock swung underneath me from the powerful movements of my girlfriend, and then explode, sending cum splattering across the floor and the kitchenette cupboards.
I groaned as I lay with my head on the kitchen workshop, savouring the multitude of orgasmic tingles in my prostate; she pulled her cock from my backside, and she pushed me towards the back door and into my secluded garden.
I knew what was coming. Face up on the grass, her cunt pressed against my mouth as she released the pressure on her bladder and coated me in her deliciously nasty piss. I gulped several mouthfuls as she recorded my humiliation on her phone, and then she left me in the tepid evening twilight as she rejoined her bandmates.
Fucked. Humiliated. Abandoned. I loved her so much.
The following Wednesday night, the band played at a village hall in the Essex countryside. Maddison’s aunt ran the Brownies from the rundown parish amenity and the community had started a fundraising drive to rebuild the aged infrastructure.
Thus, Bitches Against agreed to do a free concert with ticket sales of the 400 revellers going into the coffers of the local parish council. Nessie sold T-shirts and merchandise to cover the petrol cost for the band, and the village pub set up a mobile drinks van. I attended the adults-only show and the foul-mouthed rockers swore liberally throughout.
After the interval, the five musicians returned to the stage without their tops with a complaint that the village hall was “fucking sweltering” and I took lots of photos of topless punks in their abbreviated shorts. Faye exhibited her new nipple piercings, and I sent those pictures of the half-naked rockers to the band’s private group rather than social media.
They raised over £7,000 for the village hall, and the band cleared another grand and a half from merchandising. We arrived at my house at just before midnight; the chatter on the way home had been salacious and the horny women sat in the back seat and stripped Nessie on the journey. Faye pawed at their employee’s bare tits, and Natasha fingered the naked submissive’s cunt as she groaned and writhed.
We hurried to our bedroom, discarding clothes as we ran through my house; the scorched look of arousal burnt in Natasha’s eyes, and my girlfriend pulled my hand as she scampered up our stairs. Nessie’s escort izmir squeal permeated the walls and my lover stopped and giggled. She picked up a pair of handcuffs and led me into her old room next door.
Faye and Nessie were naked, writhing on the duvet as they kissed and my girlfriend pressed on my shoulder, pushing me into an armchair. The talented songwriter and keyboardist smiled as she watched Natasha control me. A click on the metal restraints fastened my wrists underneath the wooden seat.
My girlfriend’s mouth touched Faye’s thigh. A tender act as her friend sensually caressed the flesh, and I watched, spellbound, as Natasha’s lips gently massaged the sensitive skin. She worked around the tiny strip of Faye’s pubic hair.
Faye squirmed; Nessie groaned. While my partner’s tactile movements with her mouth lovingly stimulated her friend, her fingertips roughly traced Nessie’s slit, aggressively pressing against the submissive’s cunt. Three fingers rampantly scissored into the red-headed beauty. Her clit stimulated by Natasha’s thumb.
I stared transfixed at the lesbian orgy; my girlfriend’s fierce, aggressive motions into Nessie were a long way from her gentle, loving cunnilingus on her bandmate’s pussy. Natasha’s tongue poked at Faye’s slit. Slow licks, twisting and flicking as the punk rocker affectionately explored her best friend’s cunt. A romantic act of patient oral loving as Faye kissed the woman that Natasha was boisterously finger banging.
My bare cock strained; every whimper from the bed drove my arousal higher. Nessie panted and groaned; the two women had teased their submissive in the car while we were on the motorway and her orgasm neared. Her body shuddered and shook as Natasha’s thrusts powered into her open snatch. She screamed and swore as a climax engulfed her.
My girlfriend’s right hand pressed against Faye’s G-Spot. Two fingers deftly slipped inside her best friend and slowly massaged her vaginal walls. Her thighs quivered, her pierced breasts heaved, and she emitted a deep guttural grunt as waves of enjoyment detonated from her cunt.
All three women enjoyed several orgasms; they acted like I was not present as fingered, licked and kissed each other. Vibrating toys brought Natasha to a screaming climax and then they held Nessie’s arms outstretched as they stuck the bullet vibrator on her clit and watched her writhe, moan, howl and then cry as an orgasm powered ecstasy to every fibre in her body.
Natasha wordlessly left the room, walking past me without sharing a glance, and returned to her friends carrying two strap-on harnesses. I gulped as she passed one to Faye, who slipped the black straps holding a six or seven-inch purple dong around her waist, while my girlfriend sported a bright green dildo – a favourite of mine.
The confidence of the two women donning strap-on toys was especially arousing, and Nessie caught my eye. She could see the envious expression etched upon my face as they manhandled their submissive on the bed. Natasha held Nessie’s ankles aloft and rubbed her smooth toy over the young lady’s slit. Nessie groaned as the hard rubber slid over her wetness before my girlfriend pressed the dildo into her cunt with a powerful thrust.
She gasped as the lead singer ploughed into her pussy, pressing the toy deep into her with wild abandon. Nessie’s lips encircled the glans on Faye’s prick as her head hung over the side of the mattress and she fellated the silicone cock attached to her employer’s waist.
I watched, entranced and amazed, as they spit-roasted their merchandise saleswoman. Natasha gripped Nessie’s hips to power her toy harder and deeper into the groaning, orgasming woman.
The air was thick with the sounds and smells of feminine ecstasy. My cock leaked onto the chair as pre-cum poured from my untouched prick while I ogled the lesbian sex show, provided to tease and torment me.
Nessie’s cunt slurped as it sucked and gripped the rubber dong jackhammering into her. Natasha grunted as she dominated the submissive with an energetic fucking. Faye giggled as the youngest woman expertly fellated the dildo, swinging from her waist. A sordid, debauched exhibition of wanton hedonism and I desperately wanted to join in. I wished I could plant my face between Nessie’s legs, or slide my tongue over Natasha’s rosebud. I dreamt of toying with Faye’s new nipple rings or lying on the bed and accepting one the strapon toys rammed up my pipe. I wanted in.
Natasha looked across at me and smiled. She could read my mind and understood my jealous expression. A few moments later, she walked over to me; my hands were still immobile, and she grabbed the back of my neck, pushing my face into the dildo, slick with Nessie’s arousal.
My lips parted as the toy brushed against them. The chemical rubber taste intertwined with the nymphomaniac’s lustful juices. Natasha impaled my mouth on her prick and it hit the back of my tongue before she withdrew and escort izmir returned to Nessie, plunging the dildo into the writhing girl.
My girlfriend did this several times; forcing the musky smell and slick taste of arousal into my mouth via the rubber dong. My cock wept at the teasing.
She unfastened my wrists and led me onto the bed, muttering sharp instructions. I knelt doggy style, as demanded by Natasha, and her eyes met mine. She guided my lips over her phallus once more to suck the juices from it. I only took a few inches in my mouth. Faye fiddled with my butt, sliding a cold wetness over my bud, and then fidgeted on the mattress.
Her realistic cock pressed against my ring, stretching it. The toy pressured my opening, and I grunted, gurgling onto Natasha’s prick. My girlfriend said nothing, and she ran her hands over my hair.
I relaxed my butt; I took deep breaths and slow inhalations as her dick drove into my rectum. Faye’s cock pushed into me. Not as gentle or patient as Natasha, she caused a moment of discomfort as the lesbian rocker impaled me onto her dildo.
And then the submissive satisfaction of sodomy swept through me. My soul danced, my eyes watered, my cock swung, and my flesh sizzled as Faye fucked me. She rogered me. She powered her dick into me, tickling my prostate as her thrusts slammed her thighs into mine.
I groaned into the musky prick. Pre-cum leaked from my soft cock as the first dry orgasm surged through my loins, and then another. And another. I could not control my body’s response as wave after wave of lustful energy radiated from my crotch. Each peak was more intense than the last, as Faye hammered her dick home harder and my girlfriend dominated me.
Droplets of cum came from my swinging prick as I shuddered, covering the duvet in splashes of my climax, while I squealed into the dick, half-buried in my mouth. They knew I’d come without touching my cock and they never stopped. The women continued, leaning over me to “high-five.”
I looked towards the door and saw Nessie, sat in the chair, holding Faye’s phone. “Say hi, slut,” Natasha barked as Faye grabbed hold of my waist and yanked me onto her dick. I squealed, and she pushed me forwards, leaving my arse gaping empty.
I panted and smiled at my girlfriend. “I guess I got to clean up?”
Natasha grinned. “Nessie, change the bedding,” she ordered and grabbed me by the ear. I yelled in pain, as she forced me to my feet and pushed me into my en-suite, where my loving girlfriend squatted over me and urinated in my face.
Golden rain trickled from her crotch, in between the straps of her harness, as her dildo bobbed over me. She forced her acrid liquid between my lips as she expelled several drinks over her submissive boyfriend. I knelt, with my gaping, sore backside, as my dominant beau humiliated me with her piss and she grunted as my tongue wrapped over her slit until her flow ran dry.
We kissed as we showered and when we returned to Faye’s room, the young submissive had cleaned up. I made everyone a mug of hot chocolate, and we bade them good night as my girlfriend and I went to bed.
The following morning, the lesbian lovers were eating breakfast when we joined them in my lounge. Faye groaned as she stretched her legs in the wide armchair. Her eyes flicked over her notepad and she held a pen over the page scrawled with symbols and notes. “Hey Nats,” she called. “How do you think about doing a Christmas song?”
Natasha spluttered into her morning coffee. “The fucking soulless rubbish that is fucking Christmas music. Fuck right off. Merry Fucking Christmas, my fucking arse.” Faye smiled at her bandmate’s response. “No. Not a fucking chance.”
“Christmas songs are ideal because you get royalties every year,” the songwriter calmly replied and looked back at her notebook. “I have a song that I wrote this morning, but the melody is less hardcore. I just don’t like the lyrics. If I make that about Santa or…”
“I am not singing about fucking reindeer and holly and shitty mince pies,” Natasha interrupted. “It’s not us.” Faye sighed. She looked at me and I gave her a weak smile. “I fucking hate Christmas. All that goodwill to men and being nice to family. It’s bollocks.”
“I’ve never known you to be nice to your dad,” Faye joked, and closed her notepad. She pursed her lips as Natasha scowled at her, and the two rockers argued.
Twenty minutes later, my girlfriend and I were alone in our house, and I took my combustible partner on a walk around our countryside. She mellowed considerably as we strolled hand-in-hand and chatted. Natasha moaned vociferously when I mentioned the forthcoming nuptials, but I gently coerced my lover over the week, and the following Friday, we attended Tubby’s marriage ceremony. My old school friend had moved to Birmingham after he and his long-term sweetheart studied at the same Midland’s University.
The venue was a “wedding barn” in the heart of the countryside, outside Coventry, and the mock Tudor building with slate grey floor was an impressive location for his nuptials. Tubby was a gibbering, anxious wreck. The Best Man calmed him; the smooth-talking estate agent was unfazed by the occasion and bantered with his friend and those around them.
The bride looked gorgeous in her cream wedding dress; I remembered Portia as a striking girl from school and joked at the time that my mate had punched considerably above his weight as a thirteen-year-old, but she had matured into a beautiful young lady. His buxom wife had an hour-glass figure and filled every inch of her dress.
The meal was a delight, and Natasha spoke candidly over the excellent food with Tubby’s two uncouth uncles. All three of them had an interest in punk rock, and one of the groom’s relatives had been a roadie for an infamous musician in the eighties. They traded salacious tales of debauchery as they sank beer after beer.
At the evening reception, Natasha and Aaron, the Best Man, had crossed words. The drunken man walked to our table where Tubby, myself and my girlfriend were talking and he sat on the only available chair. “Hey little minx,” referring to a throwaway comment I had made months ago. “Leave us alone, love. Go chat with the birds. I need to talk to the Tubster.” The inebriated estate agent sneered.
My girlfriend checked to ensure no-one was standing within earshot and cocked her head. “Sure. I’ll be awhile as I saw a fucking good porno on John’s phone and I want to show the girls. It was in a Mediterranean villa and it was this bride on her hen party being screwed by someone who looks like you. It was brilliant. I’ve just seen your wife go into the bogs and she’d love it. Absolutely love it.” Natasha rose from her chair and Aaron grabbed her wrist. She scowled at him and twisted his earlobe with her free hand. Her voice dropped an octave. “If you ever talk to me like that again and you won’t have the balls left to screw any floosie, you fucking hear me? Now fuck off before I make you.”
He squealed in pain, and she sat back down, pushing Aaron away. He scrambled from our table and she looked at Tubby. “I did nothing like that on the Stag Party,” the groom muttered. “He went crazy. Most of the guys did.”
“But you got pissed on, didn’t you?” He nodded and glanced at his bride, laughing at a nearby table. “And she doesn’t know, does she?”
“No,” he admitted.
“And you liked it? I saw the videos.”
“Yes,” he muttered. “Please don’t tell her. She wouldn’t understand.”
“I’m not going to tell her,” Natasha snapped. “Although you should tell her you enjoy being underneath a pissing woman.”
He sniggered. “No. I couldn’t. Portia would never even consider doing anything like that.”
My scheming punk rocker grinned and took this comment as a challenge. When the new Mrs Stone sat beside Tubby and next to my girlfriend, she introduced herself. “Natasha. Yes, I am the girl from Bitches Against in that viral video,” she confessed. “And yes, I peed over him on stage.”
The inexperienced, virginal woman gasped. “Wow! We saw that, did we, darling?”
Natasha shrugged. “Everyone saw that! He runs my fan club. We’re a couple now, but we weren’t then.” She clicked her fingers at Tubby and me. “Go get us some Prosecco. Portia’s run dry. I’ll have my usual.” We went to the bar and returned to the table five minutes later with Tubby’s bride in hysterics. I passed the new wife a bottle of sparkling wine and Tubby put two glasses of ale in front of my girlfriend. “So then we tied the slimy Venue Manager in the centre of the roundabout at rush hour! Naked. With that sign around his neck. Police had to cut him down and he was scared of us. But he never pinched my butt again!” Portia guffawed and Natasha poured the drink into the bride’s glass. “Men are all the same. You need to set boundaries and control them. Your life is much better when you take fucking charge of them, trust me. Do that inside the bedroom and it means you get your own way outside. Men are guided by one thing and one thing only.” Portia sniggered. “Dominate them. Golden showers are just one way, but it’s so simple. Men’s brains are in their dicks, and cunt entrances them!”
Portia chuckled. “Tubby’s…”
“A guy,” Natasha interrupted. “All men are obsessed with sex. Control them, humiliate them, overpower them and then you have a well-behaved partner for ever. I promise. It’s the secret to a happy life.” I guided Tubby away from the lewd chatter to the expansive and manicured garden.
“Your girlfriend is crazy,” he muttered as he glanced back at the venue through the open doors at the two women chuckling. “Absolutely nuts.”
“Yeah, she is.”
“I’ve met no one like her before.”
“No. Me neither,” I admitted. “But I love her to bits.”
We left an hour later; Natasha spent twenty minutes with Tubby’s bride and the new wife had mistakenly tried to keep up with my girlfriend’s rate of drinking. The sozzled woman sank into her groom’s arms giggling profusely and we wished the happy couple a nice honeymoon before we drove away.
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