The unexpected thing about living in a free use city is just how little competition there is between women. There's no social status in relationships when all relationships are necessarily open. Having a steady boyfriend doesn't mean there won't be other men fucking you every day, and it certainly doesn't mean your beloved won't be fucking other women. In a free use city, monogamy is the perversity.
No, having a boyfriend sleep in your bed guarantees only one thing: that your body will be available to be used while you're asleep - or while you're trying to sleep, at any rate.
Colin is the first man in Newport I invite home for the night. I was having a drink with Mary in a fetish club. Some random guy bought us cocktails each, then sucked on my toes while Mary gave him a footjob. Mary had spied Colin watching from a seat at the bar, and as the foot fetishist stood to leave, having spurted his cum over Mary's bare feet, she had waved him over. "Colin's a crane operator," she said by way of introduction, and rested her legs up on the table, her cum-splashed feet practically beneath Colin's nose. "We arrived in Newport at the same time and shared an apartment for a few weeks."
I'm new to Newport myself. The casual openness about sex in all its forms, and the written and unwritten rules around sexual exploitation, still continue to surprise me daily. Nowhere else but in a free use city could a stranger buy a couple of girls a drink and immediately proceed to use their feet as sex aids. "Eleven," Mary had said as we entered the bar earlier, "free use in public is for vanilla stuff. The usual. Blowjobs, anal sex, vanilla sex, tits. Anything kinkier than that, use the fetish bars."
"And why would any woman go to a fetish bar?" I asked.
Mary grinned. "Twelve, if you want to use a woman for anything kinky, it's only polite to buy her a drink first. Thirteen, if you accept the drink, you accept the kink. Sometimes it's disturbing, mostly it's fun, and since the drinks are free, why not?"
Colin brought with him a rum and coke for Mary, and a jug of water for me. "Drinks, ladies?" he had offered, grinning, and was soon licking another man's cum from Mary's ankles with slow, seductive pleasure.
"Colin's a total cumslut," Mary explained, as if it wasn't obvious. "He also loves to lick a woman's pussy while she pees."
Which explained the jug of water he had put in front of me. If the idea of a man watching me pee was weird and uncomfortable, the idea of his face being in my crotch while I tried to let go of a full bladder was almost incomprehensible. In coming to Newport, I had understood there would be sex, and I had even given myself some gentle anal training in advance of moving to the free use city, but after a week here I still find it embarrassing to have strangers watch while a man I may never have seen before chooses my ass or cunt or mouth or tits to use for his pleasure. I still find it shamefully dirty to have cum oozing visibly down my legs at all, let alone in the middle of a work day. I do clean up after sex, but Mary's Rule Number Seven states, "No cleaning below the hemline until it's bedtime." Once the cum is visible, it stays visible.
Women in Newport have a strict dress code: high heels, a high hemline, and no underwear. The shoes I've gotten used to, the high hemline less so. There's a reason why almost all the seats in Newport are plastic. Fabric seats would be a major health hazard for all the bare bums and leaking cunts that press against them daily. The wet wipes I carry around with me are essential for cleaning chairs before and after I sit.
Between all the fucking and the rain, because the weather in Newport sucks, clear plastic raincoats are allowed, but also the dresses made locally are as water resistant on the outside as they are garishly colourful. Today I wore a dark blue dress with large pink lip imprints everywhere. The cum that had splashed against my breasts by accident on the bus trip into work in the morning had cleaned straight off after. The cum that had run down my legs after the mid-afternoon meeting with my boss had been left to dry, and my cunt was still wet and aching pleasantly from that thick, brutal cock.
I took my time, necessarily, but drank down that full jug of water until my insides protested, and it wasn't long before that fullness found its way to an urgent bladder. Colin meanwhile licked Mary's feet clean and she returned them to her shoes. "You should take him home," she said. "You'll find it a lot easier to relax there - and Colin's perfectly safe. You can even give him seconds in the morning."
Given the increasing need to empty my bladder, I wasn't sure I'd make it home in time, but her advice was sound and really we weren't far from the apartment I share with Tanya. "Okay," I said. "Let's go."
Ten minutes later we were in my private bathroom and I was ready to burst, so desperate that I no longer cared if Colin watched. I stood straddling the toilet and lifted my dress as Colin knelt in front of me. I tried to let go, but despite everything my bladder was shy, until Colin dived between my parted thighs, his tongue sweeping between my labia, swirling playfully about my clit, and it felt so fucking good. I wondered if he could taste how many men had used my cunt today... Three? No - four.
I could hold it in no longer. My pee burst out into his mouth and he moaned with delight. The sound of it dripping into the bowl beneath us was a crude reminder of just how dirty an act this was. I had never dreamed I would ever do something like this. Out of desperation for a job, I had moved to a city where not only I was expected to be available for sex, but I was now willingly casting aside dignity and decency.
If I ever leave Newport, what do I tell people about who I am? "Yes, all my orifices were thoroughly and repeatedly used, and my toes were sucked by a strange and I peed into a guy's mouth, but I'm a sensible girl and not a cumslut who can't be trusted not to seduce all your husbands..."
As if to prove me a slut beyond redemption, Colin not only drank what he could of my pee, his tongue worked me so expertly I was soon clutching his head, holding his mouth tight against my pussy as I climaxed. Even worse, I could see my face in the mirror as I did so, my cheeks flushed with shame, exertion and ecstasy.
In bed, exhausted, I let him take me from behind. His cock was the smallest I'd ever had inside me, but I didn't care. I think I fell asleep before he was done with me.
But in the middle of the night, the only sound outside that of the distant container terminal that worked all hours, I'm abruptly awake again, a hard cock pressing into my ass, and it takes me a long, confused moment to remember that I brought a man to my bed, and therefore my body is his to use at will. My ass is his to use.
It's a rude awakening, but I consciously relax into it, allowing it without encouraging it. His cock may be small, but the sensation of a cock in the ass is a difficult one to sleep through. I'm lying on my front; he's taking me from behind. As soon as he realises I'm awake, he picks up the pace, thrusting as hard and deep as he can get. My ass gets well lubricated during the day, and maybe Colin added some more lube, but there's still enough friction to excite me when I'd rather just sleep. "I love this city," he says. "I never had sex before I came here, and now I get pussy every day, and sometimes a nice hot ass too."
That's me. A nice hot ass. "I need to leave in thirty for my shift," he says. "I want to start the day with my cum in your ass and the taste of your pussy in my mouth. Ready, you gorgeous slut?"
At half past three in the morning? Fuck. "Ready," I mumble.
