"Oh, Sir, he is fucking me."
She was on her back, her legs raised in the air, a stiff and very big cock plowing her wet cunt.
The voice was my own lovely Vixen, but I could not see her. I had phoned, knowing she was playing with a young couple. The woman, in her twenties, was an exotic dancer, her boyfriend, also in his twenties, a stud, and Vixen had made clear that she really wanted to eat her pussy and to feel his cock inside her.
Now, within moments after I had reached her on her cell phone, she was describing the fucking she was receiving.
"Oh God, it is so good. He fills me up. God, so full, he is so big, Sir."
And then for a few minutes I could hear her moans of pleasure.
"Come for him, Vixen," I said into the phone. "Now."
"Oh, yes," she replied. "I am, I am."
I heard his voice in the background. "Goddamn. Goddamn. Oh baby, that feels so good."
I knew her cunt muscles were clutching.
"Shoot it," I said. "Squirt on him."
Vixen is one of those unique women who squirt a strictly feminine liquid from their pussy when cumming. And it issues from her is a very forceful stream of hot clear cum.
"Damn" I heard him say. "Oh that feels wonderful!"
After several minutes of fucking, the stud, DJ, moved back and let Vixen suck on his cock. Dee, his girlfriend, got on the phone and described how good Vixen was going sucking him.
Vixen told me a few minutes later, during a break in the action, that she had gone down on Dee and really enjoyed it.
Later, when she got home, Vixen called me say that DJ had given her a royal fuck, and spent at one point over an hour straight plowing her pussy, making her cum over and over.
And then she thanked me, as a good subbie should.
It was an unusual relationship. I had informed her that if she was to be my sub, she had to be a slut. She had not objected to the idea at all.
It was several weeks later. Lovely Vixen and I had experienced several quite kinky sexual adventures. Now it was time for one of my favorites.
The scene was the lounge of a hotel near Pittsburgh. I sat at the bar, sipping a beer. Vixen had been told to wait five minutes and then enter, and to ignore me. When she came in, she was wearing a rather sheer white blouse. Her ample breasts, covered by a white lacy bra, were visible. The skirt was one she was wearing for the first time: a rather short black number. It was not as short, perhaps, as a true slut skirt, since it extended a couple of inches below her ass,. I called it her "pseudo-slut" skirt. She did have on thigh high black stockings, and black pumps.
She certainly attracted attention. Her hair is a beautiful auburn. Her eyes, brown with flecks of amber, reflected a golden hue when the light hit them. Besides, she was a woman alone.
It did not take long before men were hitting on her. She danced with one or two, but turned down their offers to buy her a drink. But when a man who looked like a weight lifter, muscular and tanned, came over and said hello, she accepted and he bought her a white wine. He was wearing leather pants, black, and a leather, motorcycle rider type jacket. Not her usual fare, but she was certainly turned on.
They did not dance, but several times he touched her arm, and she would touch him. He looked down at her legs often, and the cleavage formed by her ample tits did not escape his attention. They had talked what seemed to me to be a short time when she arose. He took her arm and led her out of the lounge. Ummmm. It certainly looked like she was about to get some action, and everyone in the bar knew it. They just didn't know she was mine and that I loved her doing it.
I was going to wait, but decided to make sure she was ok. I picked up my cell phone and called hers. It took several rings before she answered.
"Hello?," She said, paused and then continued. "Honey, can I call you back. I'm kinda busy right now." The sounds in the background were of traffic. I thought she must have been standing next to an open window. Just before the phone clicked off, I heard her voice again, but not talking to me. "Oh, yes," she said in a breathless voice. "Give it to me." The line went dead.
It was not more than ten minutes later when she walked back in.
As we had planned, she did not come to me, but instead took a stool several places away. After a few minutes I walked over to stand next to her.
"Where were you?"
Vixen grinned an evil grin. "In the alley."
Even I was stunned. "What!"
"Yeh," she said. "He said he didn't have a room and that if I was a real slut to just come with him. There's an alley back of the hotel, and he just leaned me up against the wall, lifted my skirt from in back and fucked me."
"My, god, woman. You could have been caught!"
"Yes, Sir, and that made it all the more exciting. It was dark, of course, but still…."
Again she smiled. "I came, Sir. I was ready to cum the moment he put his cock in me, and I did. He didn't last five minutes, but boy did he give me a workout. He fucked hard and fast. What you like to call 'block and tackle' fucking, Sir. He had my skit pushed up and his hands on my ass, holding me as he just continued to fuck and fuck."
"And you put your panties on to save the cum?"
"No, Sir. I kept clenching after he shot it. I was still cumming, so his cum and mine mostly got pushed out. I have it on my thighs and legs right now, Sir."
I moved my hand to her leg, touching the bare portion just above her skirt, and moved it upward. Several people nearby were watching. As I slide my hand upward I could feel the sticky residue.
"Oh, baby, you do have cum on your leg," I whispered in her ear.
I bought her a drink, just as the stranger had. And we talked a while about how slutty she felt, and how wonderful. I told her that in this case she should go wash up a bit, since she still had to fulfill my directions about fucking a stranger in his room. When she walked away to go to the lady's room, I went back to my original seat, like a man who had just been rejected.
When Vixen returned, she looked fresh, but hardly wholesome.
She sat alone, away from me. Other men said hello, attempting to pick her up. It was a good half hour before she accepted a drink from a middle-aged man, one with a touch of gray in his hair, wearing a business suit and a tie.
It was less than half an hour more before she walked out with him. This time I followed at a safe distance, and saw the two of them enter an elevator. Then I waited fifteen minutes.
Again I used my cell phone to call her. It took several rings before she answered.
"Hello? Oh, hi dear." I could hear some movement in the background.
"Are you being fucked?"
"Yes, dear. I am having a good time. Bonny and I are at the art museum," she replied.
I heard her turn away from the phone and whisper. "It's my husband."
"Is he good, Vixen?"
"Yes, the exhibit is very worthwhile. I wish you had come with us, but I know you have to work tonight. When will you be home?"
"You are a Vixen," I said into the phone.
"Oh, not 'til that late? Oh do try to come home earlier. I am sooooo horny."
I could hear her voice quivering. I knew that she was being fucked as we spoke.
"What position are you in?"
"What, dear?"
"Are you standing?"
