Rio Sinuoso

(Thanks Rotorhead450 as always for tireless support and work making these better stories to read.)

Chapter 1

My name is Penny. I am twenty-three. I am in every reasonable way a responsible, delightful and well-behaved young Catholic woman. Everyone says so. I have strong female role models in my family, all of whom admire my strong mind, my style and my manners. And my cute ass. And my cute nose, the way it curls. And my breasts. All the women in my family are completely jealous of my breasts. They're not big, but the shape of them is perfect.

"You're drunk," someone laughed.

"No, I'm just telling you...," I slurred, then lost track of my train of thought.

"Telling me... what?" the voice asked.

"Who are you?" I replied, straining to keep my eyes open and focused.

"Go on," the voice ignored me. "So far, you've told me that in your family you are the smallest, in fact 'elegantly petite' you said, the most shapely, most slender, have the lightest hair, the longest hair, the skinniest hips, the best ass, cutest nose and most perfect tits. And... what else?"

I stopped and let my head spin a moment in silence. I didn't remember saying any of that.

"I did not," I mumbled in defense. "Where am I? I'm so sleepy."

"Lift your arms," I was told. I lifted my arms. My sweater came up and over my head. Where was I? It should be night time but light was coming in the window. It should be a party but the mood was quiet. I should be in my friend Marcia's ballroom in her big house, not laying on a huge soft bed.

"Undo your shirt," I was told. I blinked, trying to recognize the voice. It was a guy. Why would a guy want my shirt undone? When I didn't respond, he said, "Okay, I can do it."

I looked down at it happening. I couldn't see his face, just his hands moving from button to button. Oh, and then the kissing. Oh my god, from nowhere my neck and shoulder blade were being kissed. The top of my breasts above my bra. My stomach. Normally I would be too ticklish, but somehow it was divine. It must have been a dream. If it wasn't ticklish, it must be a dream.

I don't know how my jeans were so loose, they had a button and zip. I lifted my hips to help them be pulled off.

Then there was a guy on me. Some guy. His weight was on me. Kissing my lips. His tongue was in my mouth. Instinctively I kissed back. All I wanted was sleep, but I kissed back. My hands rested on him. Was he undressed?

"I am going to fuck the shit out of you," I heard him say. Who was he talking to? Me? "You are stunning. Beautiful. I am going to nail you to the headboard."

What did that mean? Who was this guy? And oh god, a cock, in my mouth. Oh god, I never do that. As much as my boyfriend Darren asks, I never do that. What's happened to me, that I have cock in my mouth? Where is everyone? I'm not even sucking, it's like that cock is just fucking my mouth by itself.

"Do it properly," I heard said. I don't know why I obeyed, but I started sucking his cock properly. I never, ever do that. I held the base of the erection and bobbed my head and sucked as hard as I thought a woman was supposed to. Oh, why would any girl ever do that? It's disgusting to put a penis in your mouth. Yet I did it. By the time it pulled out, my jaw hurt.

"Who are you?" I asked feebly, not able to focus on the face above me. I was so drunk. I felt like it was getting worse. "Where is everybody?"

"Waiting their turn."

"Why is it light out the window?"

"It's almost morning. You've been up all night. And now it's time to get laid."

I closed my eyes to comprehend what I had been told. I lifted my hips instinctively as my underpants were pulled down. My thighs were forced wide, I could feel cold air on the wetness between my legs.

"Where are my pants?" I mumbled, not knowing why I was naked below.

"In the bin, baby."

"Why?" I slurred.

I didn't get an answer. Instead, I got cock. The erection must have been smothered in gel, it pushed up my vagina in one smooth stroke. I arched my back and squealed.

"Oh my god!" I yelled out as the guy went nuts humping me. I snapped out of my haze. I was being slammed with cock. My pussy squelched decadently on each long, hammering stroke. Holy shit.

"What a fucking glorious cunt!" the guy above me yelled out. "Your body is heaven. I am going to fuck you rotten."

I'd never been fucked rotten. I rarely had sex. My boyfriend Darren and I were delicate and gentle and restrained. We both lived with our folks, rarely were we alone.

"Give me your tits, baby. Take off your bra."

It wasn't easy to reach behind me and unsnap it. I was ridiculously drunk and my body was jerking with each massive hump. When I got it undone, that guy pulled on it and threw it away, grabbing my breasts and gripping them as handles as he fucked me.

"I've never had my cock in a body like yours. You were right about your tits. They're a proper mouthful."

Then they went into his mouth. He turned us over so I sat on his lap, making it easier to get my breasts sucked as we fucked. His hands on my ass determined the ferocity that my pussy dragged up and down his long, thick erection.

I never had sex like that. I couldn't even tell what the guy looked like. I was so out of it I could not focus my eyes. When he pushed me upright, I bobbed my body up and down like I was riding a horse, spearing myself, over and over. The slopping sounds from my pussy were obscene. My breasts bobbing up and down strangely turned me on, it was a weird and confusing experience. I was so drunk I had lost any sense of self-consciousness or guilt.

"You love it," I heard him say. "Look at you. You're a fucking humping nympho."

I didn't know what that was. I closed my eyes and sleep-fucked, pretending it was a dream. It wasn't hard, my mind was completely dizzy with alcohol and disbelief at what I was doing.

I was spun around, face down in the pillow and slammed from behind like an animal. Darren never did this. It was dirty sex. It was carnal and debaucherous. And it made me squeal. My whole insides blew up with the air he pumped into me, that fat cock floated inside, tickling my vaginal walls as it rolled around and around me. I shivered and shuddered and screamed. Oh my god, was that my first ever orgasm?

"Like a whore, you are," I heard him say delightedly. I had no idea what a whore was like.

That guy fucked and fucked and fucked and fucked. Finally, it finished. I felt him twitch and shake, and a burning hot discharge deep inside me. He stayed connected and puffing for a long time before his slimy erection eventually left my body.

Oh, I needed sleep, I sighed, closing my eyes.

"All yours, Buddy. She's unbelievable."

"Did you have to dirty up her cunt?"

"Just get on with it!"

I shrieked as an entirely new erection teetered at my entrance, then struck firmly up the depth of my vagina.

"No sleep for you, baby," I heard a voice say. "The boys are waiting their turn."

I don't know how many there were. It was too hard to tell. I kissed their mouths as I fucked their cocks. I told them I wanted it harder. I told them I wanted my breasts sucked. I told them I wanted to be cum in. Inexperience, fatigue and alcohol relieved me of my senses. I became primal and sexual. I don't even remember stopping. I guess I just passed out.

Chapter 2

When I woke, I was naked, sore and hung over. I was entirely disoriented. What had happened? Where was I? Where were my clothes? Oh god, I hope I didn't... the stinging between my legs told me that the worst had happened. Even my ass hurt. Surely not there? Oh god, with who? Who had I gone to bed with? Oh shit. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Oh, my breasts hurt, too. How much sex had I had?

I jumped as the bedroom door flung open. A tall, fair stranger walked in with a tray. He was naked. I had no idea who he was. I scrambled the covers over my nudity.

"Bit late for that," he grinned, the voice vaguely familiar. "Here. I've got Tylenol, water, Berocca and toast with a hint of marmalade. Perfect for a hangover. And, in case you need it, a morning-after pill. I couldn't make any sense from you last night about if you are on contraceptives or not. So, you might be pregnant. Do you need it?"

I just looked at the guy, blinking. It was all too much to take in. He was handsome. He was fit. His cock was thick and hung low. I couldn't remember it being in me, but it must have been.

"Where am I?"

"My apartment," he said, handing me water and the headache tablets.

"Where is Marcia?"

"I've just spoken to her. She's at her place, wanted to check you're okay. I said you were fantastic. She seemed surprised."

"What do you mean?"

"When we left last night, she was surprised you agreed to come to my place. She said you used to be conservative. Not usually the type to have a one-night stand."

"Oh."

"I told her that you fuck like a minx, so she was a bit surprised. And she changed your flight, there's no way you're going to get to the airport by one-thirty."

"Shit," I panicked. Where was my watch? "What time is it?"

"Almost 1 pm. And the airport is thirty minutes away, no way can you make it. She changed it to 9 pm, it was the only one she could get today at short notice. Or you can go home tomorrow? Have another night?"

"Shit. I need to get home. I have a practical tomorrow. Shit, it will be midnight before I get home. Argh!"

I held my head in both hands.

"How long is the flight?" The guy asked.

"Just over an hour. Sixty-five minutes."

"Well, you can sleep some more, there's no rush. Here eat a little."

I didn't want to eat and get crumbs in the guy's bed, but it was the only way to cover my nudity. Toast did feel good for my stomach.

"Where are my clothes?"

"I'm not really sure. Spread around the place. Your overnight bag is here, though. We took it with us."

"Can you get it?" I asked. "Could you get me some clothes?"

"Don't be so rushed," the guy smiled, taking my empty plate and putting it on the chest of drawers. He lifted the covers and crawled into bed with me. He was strong, pulling my body down to lay next to him. His cock was turned on again, burning hard against my leg as he lifted the quilt and began sucking my breasts.

"Oh my god, it hurts. Are they bruised?" I asked, holding my breasts up to look better. "Oh shit, are those hickeys?"

"Yep," the guy grinned.

"I want to get dressed. I want my clothes."

"No rush!" the guy said, ignoring me. He reached to the bedside table and took a bottle of gel, pouring it onto his erection.

"Huh? You really gonna do that again? I don't want," I whined.

"Didn't ask what you wanted!" he grinned, turning me over and pushing my face into the pillow. He pulled my hips up, put himself in place and shoved. My whole body jerked at the swift entry the gel granted him.

"Oh god," I groaned.

"I fucking love your cunt, baby, you are great to fuck," he puffed. "I love that you're a one-night stand slut. So good looking, and such an easy lay. It's brilliant. I love it. I love your cunt."

I believed him, he joyfully fucked me, calling me and my body parts by all the dirty words our language had. This must have been the cock in me overnight, but the feeling wasn't familiar. Before last night, I was never taken from behind. I was being rutted, like an animal. The man pumping madly behind me didn't want me, just my body, just my vagina.

"Unbelievable body. Unbelievable cunt," he groaned on cue. "Roll over. Sit up and fuck me like a whore again."

Again? I wondered at my performance the night before. I couldn't remember any of it. Did I fuck like a whore? What did a whore fuck like? Why was I doing this at all? I pushed back feelings of shame and guilt of my nudity and penetration; I would deal with them once I ever got out of this man's apartment.

He rolled us over, putting me on top. The way we were positioned, that left me sitting on his cock facing away from him. It was an unromantic way for a couple to make love. It was purely sexual.

"Go on, fuck like you did before, baby, fuck like a slut, you love it," the guy said, clearly in a happy mood. I tried to think what I could possibly have done before to make him say those things? What kind of sex had I given that guy?

I leaned back on my arms and rolled my hips as best I could on his penis. With my boobs pointing up and legs wide open, I dragged my vagina up and down the length of his cock; all of it in, all of it out, all of it in, all of it out. I fucked that guy as confidently as I could muster, inexplicably trying to live up to his sexual expectations. Of course, if I'd known that the laptop facing us on the desk at the foot of the bed was in perfect position to film the carnality of my vaginal piercing, I would never have been so experimental. But I didn't. So, I fucked in a way I had never done - without inhibition.

That guy wanted me to give him dirty sex. He expected it. I had a strange urge to comply. It was a one-night stand, I would never see him again. I had no cause for embarrassment. If he was so happy to have my vagina as a toy, I would use his cock to feed my own curiosity about sex that people had outside my boundaries.

Trashing my remorse and regret, I sat straight and bounced up and down on that guy's erection. As my breasts wobbled and bounced with me, I had my first recollection of the sex from the night before. My chest jumping around freely as a cock struck in and out of my vagina made me light-headed. It gave me goose bumps. Oh, god, the night before I had orgasmed, I remembered. My god, I couldn't believe I knew how.

"That's it. You are a proper fucking slut," that guy said, impressed with how I was moving on him. I rolled my hips, using his cock to scrape all sides of my vaginal walls. Oh, I tingled when he grabbed my hips and helped me move. We were working together to bring ourselves off.

That guy shuffled us off the end of the bed, standing me up, holding onto his desk at the foot of the bed. He gripped my hips and fucked me brutally from behind - unknowingly capturing my face and slapping breasts perfectly on the laptop video.

"You like that baby?" I was asked. "You like it when your cunt gets pounded? You like having cocks up your cunt?"

He kept asking until I surprised myself by yelling out, at the top of my voice, "Yes! Fuck it! Fuck it!"

After that... my head was lost in the sex, something that had never happened to me. Not sober, anyway. We were like two snails entangled in each other. No part of him wasn't in some part of me at any moment. His fingers and tongue and cock, all of them were in my mouth or my vagina, and unbelievably even my ass. When he was in me from below, he reached around and put a finger in there. I screamed in shock, but he wouldn't take it out.

"You're probably pregnant, right?" he said, groaning his sperm into my vagina. I couldn't answer, I had my own orgasm from the shock of having two fingers wriggling deep in my backside as I was ejaculated into.

We slept, then fucked, slept, then fucked. I had no idea it was all being recorded on camera. Even in the shower, when he set his phone on the bathroom counter upright against the wall, I had no idea it was recording him shaving my pussy clean.

"Why are you doing this? I have to go soon. I told you I have a boyfriend. He'll know I cheated if he sees this," I complained about the shave.

"This will grow back before those hickeys disappear," the guy laughed. I dare not tell him that Darren and I rarely had my breasts out for sex. The times that he did ever use a condom on me, it was in the dark with both our tops on. Having a shaved pussy was far more dangerous than sucked-on breasts.

"How long does it take to grow back?" I asked naively.

"It will be scratchy in a week. Maybe two until it looks almost normal."

I shrugged. It wouldn't be unusual for Darren and I to go weeks between sex. I could find a way to keep my pants on until then.

That guy paraded me around the bedroom to his hidden cameras, getting himself up to fuck me one final time at his place after shaving me. I had to admit surprise at how nice it felt to be hairless. Even though it was morally dirty, being shaved felt physically clean, and the sex felt smooth.

When he finally put his plaything away, when I eventually got dressed, that guy drove me to the airport. I was down in his lap sucking his cock the whole way. He called me dirty names, he seemed to like that I did as he asked.

"You like the taste of your own cunt?" he asked as I licked the dried remnants of our last fuck from his shaft and cock head. I didn't answer, I just kept sucking. Thankfully when he came there was only a tiny bit of semen left in his testes. Only a dribble went into my mouth. Strangely it tasted less bad than I thought it would. Most of my abhorrence of cock-sucking was the possible ejaculation in my mouth. The thought was disgusting. And yet... having finally done it, the whole thing seemed strangely natural. It was something I could try again - though doing it to Darren would be too strange after so long not doing it to Darren.

At the airport we were rushed, that guy pushed time to the limit by taking me into the wheelchair toilet by the departure gate. With my pants around my ankles, he did me from behind, looking into the mirror. He'd cum so much it took forever to finally finish. I didn't feel anything come out of him, for sure his balls were empty.

Scurrying last onto the plane, I sent a quick text to Marcia saying I'd call when I could the next day, and used the bottle of water in the seat pocket to swallow the morning-after pill that guy had given me. Then I slept the whole hour of the flight, I was physically and mentally exhausted.

Chapter 3

As soon as I went down to breakfast the next day, the guilt and shame hit me in the face. My mother had cut fruit and laid out yogurt and cereal. She was so nice, asking about my trip, how was the party, how was Marcia's family? Mother was everything good in the world; bright and happy, faithful and loyal, supportive and caring. She always thought the best of me. She always trusted me without question, and in return I gave her good cause for that trust. I was in every way a responsible, delightful and well-behaved young Catholic girl. I was.

I found myself lying about how much I drank, where I slept after the party, what I had been doing all Sunday, why I needed to change my flight. I hated lying; not just because of the morals of it, but for the impracticality. Once you lie, you have to keep lying, it grows like mold in a bag of oranges. My father would be next, then my boyfriend, then my friends, and finally - just to make sure my story was consistent - I would need to lie to myself. It was energy-sapping.

As my mother moved around the kitchen, I watched her body. Daggers of shame stabbed at me. If she knew what I'd let happen to my own body, it would be unforgivable. She would never have done that with hers, never allowed that to happen to her. Underneath my pajamas my vagina was shaved bare, my breasts were covered in bruises from the mouth of a man, a stranger. I didn't even know his name. I had his sperm in me, carrying it here inside me to our kitchen table. If my mother knew, our relationship would never be the same. She would retrospectively doubt everything I'd ever told her about what I'd been doing outside the house.

How could I get rid of the deep nausea in my stomach, and lessen the heaviness my heart felt? I had cheated everyone, and deceived them with the lies I used to cover my tracks. What had I been thinking? It hadn't been just a quick, silly one-night stand; I let that guy and possibly some friends of his fuck me over and over and over. I let that guy have dirty, nasty sex on me all day Sunday. I had lost my worth. I had lost my respect. I didn't deserve to sit here and eat the food that good woman had made for me. I was not who she thought I was. I was not who I thought I was. Oh, the shame. The guilt. It consumed me.