Carol's Story

A fictional account of a real woman.

Although Blaine had told Carol to meet him at his hotel at 8pm, he called a few hour later and told her

they

needed to run an errand before their

date

. When they met, he was unsatisfied with her attire and insisted they go back to her apartment to change it.

"This one," Blaine said, holding out a thin white camisole with spaghetti straps.

"Blaine!" Carol giggled like he had zero understanding of women's fashion. "That's not meant to be worn outside the boudoir."

He continued rummaging through her closet as if he hadn't heard her.

"Why do you even want to go out anyway?"

He continued ignoring her.

"C'mon Blaine. You wanted to see my bedroom, now you've seen it. I get nervous you being here. You know I don't live alone. I'd die of humiliation if someone caught us."

"And this," he said pulling a short blue skirt with a Union Jack pattern out from the back.

"Oh god Blaine, where did you find this? I didn't even know I still had it; it's got to be fifteen years old.

"Try it on."

"Blaine it's completely out of style. I couldn't wear something this short...at my age. I doubt it even still fits."

"Try it on."

Carol looked around. "Here?" she asked. "In front of you?"

"We're going to be standing right here when your boyfriend comes home at the rate you're going."

She slid off her sandals and opened the fly on her jeans. "I've never stripped for you," she said with a shy smile and slid her pants down her legs. Stepping out, she stood there in her knickers while he handed her the skirt.

"I told you it was too short," she said when the skirt was in place and the hemline rested a few inches below the gusset in her knickers.

"It's perfect," he said. "Where did you buy it?"

"Buy it?" she snickered as if conversing with a twit, then said, "Sorry, I didn't mean to sound like that. It's just that I bought it so long ago..."

"No woman forgets buying a skirt like that."

"Oh fuck, let me think. It was a boutique...I don't think it's there anymore. It was a time in my life when I was feeling unloved, unwanted...don't make me say it Blaine, don't make me say I was cheap."

"You are cheap, Carol. You're slutty. You're easy. You're cheap."

"Oh shit Blaine. I know you're right. I'm all those things with you. Why do you make me feel good about it?"

"You bought the skirt and what?" he asked, returning her back to the topic.

"I was going to a party. I felt vulnerable, probably because I was so horny. I hadn't been fucked in months and I wanted to break my dry spell. I went into a store that catered to teenagers and bought the most outrageous skirt I could find. I wanted the guys to reckon I was "easy" to use your word."

"Were you?"

"Gloriously! Do you like that, Blaine? Knowing I could be a bit of a slut even before I met you?"

"Do you?"

"Sometimes. There were times when re-living certain parts of my past WAS my sex life."

"Put on the top."

"I told you I can't wear that outside. Here, I think I have something almost as good..."

"Put it the fuck on."

Carol began undoing the buttons of her blouse and shrugged it off her shoulders. She stood in a plain white bra gathering her courage.

"They're not as big as some women," she told him in preparation for revealing her breasts. "A bit droopier with age..."

"Just take off the fucking bra, Carol. Everything doesn't have to be a narrative."

"I can get chatty when I'm nervous..." she said, smiling weakly, still talking.

"The fucking bra cunt."

She reached back and unfastened the clasp. She cradled the cups in her hands, defending her modesty for a final moment, and then she discarded the garment. She stood before him, naked from the waist up, for the first time. She waited for him to speak but he said nothing. She lifted the camisole above her head and let it slide over her.

"Take it off."

Blaine saw a sense of relief in her, happy that he'd come to his senses, that he wouldn't force her to go out in that top. Quickly she tugged off the top even though that meant baring her breasts again. It wasn't that she objected to him seeing them, just that he seemed so disinterested.

"Rub your nipples," he ordered. "Make them hard."

Carol's first reaction was to speak, to argue with him but she caught herself. She lifted her hands and began caressing her breasts. She stroked her nipples causing them to pucker and harden.

"Pinch them. Make them good and hard. I want to see them popping from under that top.

So much for not wearing the camisole in public, she thought. She started pinching and pulling at her nipples.

"Harder!"

He watched her bite her lip as she squeezed and twisted her nipples with more force than she'd ever used on herself before. Her areola were dotted with little bumps and the nipples stood out, reddened, almost raw. He tossed her the top and she put it back on.

"Let me see your knickers again." They were non-descript, white. "What is it with you and white underwear?"

"I didn't think they mattered. You never see them anyway."

"What if I wanted you to flash some guy again?"

"Do you think he'd be worried about the colour of my knickers as he peeped up my skirt?"

"He may not but I would. Being a slut means being prepared for what I want."

"I know what you want," Carol smiled, "and it's the same think I want. We don't have to go out. Let me suck you right now, baby, in my bedroom. You know I want it. You know you want it." She licked her slick red lips seductively and felt his crotch.

"Don't presume to know what I want. Where do you keep your underwear?"

She opened the top drawer of a bureau revealing a jumble of silky, diaphanous colour. For someone who always seemed to be clad in white, she certainly had a variety. He picked up light blue and tossed them to her.

"Try these."

She lifted her skirt and pulled her knickers off then stepped into the pair he'd selected. She dropped her skirt over them.

"Lift up your skirt so I can see them."

She grabbed her hem and lifted her skirt like a can-can dancer (only she didn't lift her leg and wave it around).

He picked a darker blue and had her change again. It just went on and on from there: pink; green; lavender; yellow; even a different pair of white ones.

"I think I like pink best," he said, dangling her intimate apparel from his index finger. "But we need to do something about that jungle you've got between your legs..."

"Blaine!" she shouted indignantly, then more softly, "I keep it nicely trimmed."

"Shave it."

"What? Now?"

"Yes now."

"What about Andy? What am I supposed to tell him?"

"How the fuck should I know? Tell him whatever you want. He'll probably love it; spend more time snacking down there. Consider yourself lucky I don't get my name tattooed on it. Now that would take some explaining," he laughed while she shuddered in excited fear.

She took off her skirt and walked to the bathroom. He followed.

"Are you going to watch too?" she asked petulantly.

"Do you want me to?"

"Suit yourself," she told him echoing the wording of a cross email he'd once sent her.

"Don't get bitchy, Carol. Do you want me to watch you shave your cunt? Yes or no."

"Yes and no," she said, looking longingly into his eyes. "Mostly yes, though."

Carol sat on the edge of the tub and Blaine watched her shave her pussy bald. Carefully, tenderly, bald.

He still held the pink knickers as she fetched her skirt.

Do you know why I picked pink?" Blaine asked her as she spun the skirt looking for the front.

"Why?" she asked distractedly.

"Because I like my sluts' arses glowing pink from a nice spanking," he said, dragging his hand softly across her naked buttocks.

"Are...are you going to spank me?" she asked with genuine concern.

"Not today, we need to get going and when I do that for the first time I want to make sure you fully enjoy it. Pink knickers will have to do for the nonce."

He saw her shiver again as she tugged the knickers up her legs. Her nipples poked against the silky camisole.

"Excited?" Blaine asked as they stepped onto the sidewalk outside her home.

"Can't you tell?" Carol asked cocking her head toward his and smiling sweetly.

She clutched his arm and looked at her feet as they walked, too embarrassed at how she was dressed to stare the strangers in the eye as they passed by. Her breast was pressed tightly against his arm, pulling the fabric even closer, inadvertently showing its shape and her hardened, distended nipple more clearly.

"We're not going in here?!?" Carol half asked, half exclaimed when Blaine stopped at the non-descript, windowless door with the words, "You must be twenty-one to enter" painted on it."

"You've never been inside a porn store?" he asked opening the door.

"Never."

"Do you carry plugs? Blaine asked the nice looking thirty-something black man sitting behind the counter as Carol gawked at the dazzling display of x-rated merchandise on sale from didlos and DVDs to crotchless pants and bras with holes in the center. The man pointed.

"Plugs?" Carol asked as they walked in the direction the man had indicated.

"I'm sure even you have heard of them, Carol."

"I didn't think people actually BOUGHT them."

"Thought people just rented them did you?"

"Very fucking funny," she giggled even as she was faced with the most dizzying array of plastic objects designed to slide into the rectum and remain there until extracted.

"Which one would you like?" he asked.

Perhaps our attraction to larger objects of a sexual nature is instinctual in humans: big dicks, big tits and asses. Whatever the reason, Carol's eyes were drawn to an enormous plug, perhaps six inches in diameter at the widest point, impossibly large to fit through a sphincter.

"This can't be real, can it?" she asked picking it up. "I mean it's for a joke, right?"

"Is that your selection then?"

"Blaine be serious."

"Homosexuals, I think."

"Really?"

"How the fuck would I know. Just my guess."

"I'm not going to wear one of these, you know."

"Carol be serious."

"You're incorrigible. Why would you want me to shove one of these up my bum?"

"Because every single minute you'll know it's there. Because you'll know I know it's there. And because you want me to know that."

"You're fucking incorrigible. This one I guess," she said picking up a small one. Not the smallest because she didn't want to seem the world's biggest wimp. Also, she didn't want to spoil his fun by showing a lack of interest.

He picked up a plug three sizes bigger than the one she had in her hand and headed for the check out. "Better get some lube, coward...I mean Carol."

She dropped the butt plug in her hand, grabbed a bottle of lube and hurried after him.

"You got anyplace we can insert this?" Blaine asked the guy behind the cash register as he rang up their purchases.

"There are some booths in back," he said as he waited to get paid.

Blaine picked up the bag and headed toward the booths leaving Carol to fund her own defilement.

"You'll need these for the booth," the man told her, handing her her entire change in tokens.

There were more tokens that she could use in a month but she didn't have the nerve to complain as she walked, red-faced to find Blaine.

He put a token into the video machine and a picture of a pretty blonde fellating an enormous black cock filled the screen of the TV in the booth. The tiny room had a roll of toilet paper on the wall (but no toilet). It reeked of semen and the floor was so sticky the bottoms of Carol's sandals stuck to it like it was covered in chewing gum.

"Bend over and pull down your knickers," Blaine told her as he fished the lubricant out of the bag.

"Is that a...?" Carol gasped at the circular hole in the side wall of the booth.

"A what dear?" he asked as she gasped when he pushed a slickened finger into her anus.

"God Blaine! Do I have to utter every kinky term you guys think up just to please you?"

"You didn't have to utter anything. But you did. Now you should at least have the decency to complete your thought."

"Indecency you mean."

"Whatever."

Carol were beginning to get really excited as Blaine pulled his finger around inside her rectum, stretching her sphincter for insertion of the plug.

"Mmmm," Carol moaned, "that feels good." All their previous other sexual contact had been between his cock and her mouth (except for the botched attempt to fuck her). Now he was fingering her arsehole and it felt so good.

"It's a glory hole, isn't it Blaine?" she breathed, clearly heating up.

"Yes, Carol, it's a glory hole."

"D-do guys really stick their cocks through?" she stammered.

"Yes Carol, guys stick their cocks through and people actually suck them off. Is that what you want Carol? For me to go into the other booth and put my cock through so you can suck it?"

"Yes Blaine! Yes please!! Would you?"

"Just as soon as I put this plug in."

"Oh thank you! Thank you!! I need your cock so badly right now."

Blaine had been sliding the plug partway in and out of Carol's arse, exciting her but not seating it. In her excitement, she pushed back as he pushed forward and the plug squeezed in fully. She groaned as an orgasm overcame her and she sank to her knees on that sticky, cummy floor. She tucked her feet up under her buttocks and faced the hole. Her knickers were still around her ankles.

"Quickly Blaine, quickly! I need your cock right fucking now!!!"

Just then a cock came through the hole. It was black and nicely sized.

"What do I do, Blaine?"

"You suck it."

His permission was all the encouragement Carol needed. She leaned forward and kissed the head. Soon she was sliding her mouth up and down the chocolate shaft in earnest, wanting it to cum, yearning for the sweet sticky cum, aching for the stranger to share his cum with her. The plug almost felt as if it were vibrating in her arse and she undulated her hips to enhance the sensation.

Carol felt so kinky, so slutty, sucking off an anonymous stranger. Was it the guy behind the counter? Suddenly the door to the booth opened.

"You got to put a token in the slot if you're going to stay in the booth," the guy who'd taken her money said, getting a good look at Carol sucking off a black cock. It wasn't his cock she was blowing.

Blaine put a token in the machine and walked over beside her to watch her suck off a stranger. His cock was starting to ache so he took it out and began stroking. Soon her hand joined his on his dick as she sucked the guy in the glory hole. Carol took the stranger's cock out of her mouth and started to put Blaine's in. He pushed her head back onto the other cock.

"Get him off," Blaine ordered.

Carol sucked his dick feverishly while she jacked Blaine off. Soon the stranger poking through the hole was spurting into Carol's mouth.

"Swallow it all," Blaine commanded even as my his legs stiffened.

The stranger had retreated back through the hole as Blaine's cock began spitting against the wall of the booth. Carol watched in awe as jets of white cum rocketed out of the end of his dick and splattered against the wall. She was in the midst of her second climax that had started just as the stranger began painting her tonsils.

Just before Blaine was completely dry, she sucked his deflating cock into her still hungry mouth and finished draining and cleaning it.

Carol lifted her knees off the sticky floor that now was home to Blaine's discarded semen as well that of as countless others. A used condom, that had lain on the floor where Carol had knelt, stuck to her bare leg and she had to peel it off. There was a small mirror on the back of the booth door and Carol examined herself in it."

"Shit!" she exclaimed, pulling at her top. "That bastard got cum on it!!"

"Wouldn't that have been your fault?" Blaine asked making her feel marginally worse. "I told you to swallow it all," making her feel completely worse.

"Leave it," he said as tears welled in her eyes and she flapped the ruined cloth of the pretty top. "I suspect the guys are going to love you that way."