Thanks to SexyKitty_B for editing.
On my hands and knees, I crawled over to my bra and panties and ducked behind the nearest tree. As I put on my underwear again, I glanced at the house, seeing Cliff walking up to the back of the house. Part of me considered just walking up to him and letting him have his way with me. After all, he'd seen me naked countless of times and in far worse shape than this.
However, I had no idea of how I would explain all the cum clinging to my body -- without a man in sight. Besides, I didn't know whether he was alone or not. For all I knew, his wife Debbie was still waiting in the car. I didn't want to get him into any trouble.
Against better judgement, I waited and hoped that he would just leave. Unfortunately, after banging on the back door for a while, he walked down the garden stairs, heading in my direction. Realizing that I'd be hard to miss, in my white underwear and yellow boots, I anxiously looked around for a better place to hide.
Unfortunately, suitable hiding places were in short supply. Reluctantly and acting on instinct, I grasped several large, thick branches and crawled over to the puddle. I hesitated for several seconds, but as I heard Cliff's voice calling out for me, heading straight for me, I lowered myself into the puddle, legs first.
Even after everything I had seen and experienced, it still surprised me how deep and boundless the puddle was. Everything except my head was in, and still, I couldn't feel anything resembling a bottom or base. The liquid was surprisingly warm.
The whole endeavor scared me a little bit, but the desire not to get caught in this ridiculous and questionable position overcame my fear, and so I pulled the branches over the puddle as much as possible, concealing myself.
Barely twenty seconds later, Cliff passed within five feet of the puddle -- fortunately without detecting me. To my horror, the puddle chose this particular moment to enter me, through my panties. And not just my already sensitive cunt, but also my ass.
"Seriously?" I whispered, annoyed at the bad timing, but not the act itself. I didn't fight it, mainly because I couldn't afford to draw attention to myself, but also because I didn't actually mind being taken advantage of, even in this vulnerable position. In no time at all, I was raunchy again.
As Cliff was moving into a different section of the garden -- safely out of range -- I started taking the puddle's abuse and eagerly allowed it to fuck me in both holes as hard as it saw fit. When I felt my right boot getting pulled off my leg, I realized that I was going to lose another set of clothes. I snickered at my own discomfort and silliness... and then did nothing to stop it.
My left boot quickly followed. Then, my panties were yanked down and disappeared into the seemingly endless depth. Feeling like a dumb whore, I held on to the edge with just one hand as I used the other to unhook my bra, assisting the puddle in my own destruction.
As soon as it was unhooked, I switched hands and pulled my arms out of the straps, surrendering my bra to the lusty liquid all around me. As it sank to the depths of the puddle, probably never to be seen again, I moaned softly as the liquid kept fucking me.
It wasn't trying to make me cum. It was just toying with me, filling and stretching my holes -- and in the meantime squeezing and molesting my tits. And I was letting it... I was even enjoying it. My god, I was such an easy slut!
I noticed Cliff walking by, twice more. Luckily, he didn't pay any attention to the branches covering me or the puddle. If push came to shove, the only play I had left was to submerge myself, but I really didn't want to do that. As long as at least some part of me was out in the open -- and not in the liquid -- I told myself that I was still in control.
Of course, I was just kidding myself. Deep down, I knew that the puddle could easily pull me under at will. The very fact that I was still breathing, was because it allowed me to do so. I was so very vulnerable and so fucking horny...
A few minutes later, I heard Cliff's car drive off. Instead of getting out of the puddle, I simply stayed where I was and let it have its vile way with me some more. Unfortunately, as soon as the danger of me getting caught had passed, the liquid seemed to lose interest and slowly receded from my holes. It was just toying with me -- having no real interest in giving me any pleasure.
Frustrated and disappointed, I began hoisting myself out of the liquid, clawing at the muddy soil next to the puddle. Suddenly however, as I was about halfway out, I was violently yanked down and completely submerged for about four seconds.
As soon as I was allowed to surface again, I gasped for air -- confused and frightened. My lunges had barely filled up with air, when the puddle did it again. This time, I was kept under for a lot longer. It felt like ten or twelve seconds. When I was finally allowed to rise to the surface, I could feel the liquid penetrating me, again.
Although the perverted part of me actually enjoyed this absurd treatment, the more rational part of me started panicking -- wondering why on Earth the puddle would choose this awkward moment to start fucking me again. Unlike the carpet, which had always been gentle -- albeit mischievous -- and never crossed a specific line, this... puddle thing felt different somehow.
Especially in my current, vulnerable position, it could pose an actual threat. After again allowing me to surface and cling to the edge for a few seconds to catch my breath, I was yanked under once more -- with such force and determination that my arms were raised above my head. I screamed under water and desperately splashed around, trying to reach the surface.
This vicious game of 'catch and release' continued for quite some time -- pulling me under time and again, keeping me submerged for ten to fifteen seconds at a time. I had to time my breathing precisely as I rarely got more than about two seconds, before it yanked me back down.
On several occasions, my timing was slightly off and so I was forced to spit out water -- sperm, or whatever this thing was made of -- that made it into my mouth. The relentless fucking combined with the prolonged, instinctive fear of drowning proved a powerful combination and caused me to have a series of extremely powerful orgasms.
Old Pinky wasn't just abusing me. It was exhausting me... punishing me and completely wearing me down. Many scary, confusing, yet rewarding minutes later, my strength started to diminish, and I had to stop fighting -- and focus exclusively on my breathing. Without me struggling, the puddle quickly lost interest into what it was doing.
Suddenly, I was powerfully propelled out of the liquid and landed flat on my stomach -- and face -- in the mud. Completely worn out and dog-tired, I laid my left cheek on the ground and rested there for a bit, believing I was now safe from its abuse.
When after several minutes, I had somewhat recuperated and caught my breath, I slowly propped myself up on my elbows. That's when I felt the liquid wrap itself around my left foot and give me a violent, brief tug, causing me to lose my balance and fall flat on my face in the mud... again.
Learning from my mistake, I quickly rolled over to my left side -- and away from the puddle. However, as soon as I looked at it again, my boots came flying out, with great force. The left one hit me in the face, the right one smack on the forehead, causing me to topple backwards.
In full panic mode, I snatched up my yellow boots and began spurting towards the house, realizing that the further away from the puddle I was, the safer I'd be. Once back in the house, I threw the boots on the kitchen floor and headed up to take a warm shower. Afterwards, I put on one of my sleeping robes and sat down in the living room, contemplating the whole incident.
Before just now, I could have blamed my blackouts for the messes I seem to stumble into, but this one had been all me. I had initiated contact. There was nothing or no one else to blame, but my own addiction to nasty sex and glorious abuse. I guess deep down I knew that I was still the same old slut, ready for just about anything at the drop of a hat.
But why was this puddle so different from the carpet I had known and worshipped. Was it angry? Was it trying to get back at me for abandoning it? Had it been waiting and resenting me all this time? Or was it simply giving it to me a little harder, sensing that that was what I wanted? Although it had been quite boorish and extremely disrespectful, I couldn't say that I hadn't liked every bit of it!
Although I wasn't really scared of the puddle -- even after what it had just done to me -- it did give me the creeps. That being said, I knew that I couldn't -- and wouldn't -- stay away from it. It exerted too much of an attraction, and I was too much of a pervert. That much was clear. So, my options seemed quite limited.
Many minutes later, as I was still thinking and weighing my options, there was a loud knock on the door. When I heard Cliff calling out my name, moment later, I suddenly thought of an option I hadn't previously considered: what about a partner in crime?
I got up and opened the front door.
"Ah," Cliff sighed relieved, "Are you okay?"
"Yes, I am fine," I replied as I let him in. My gaze instantly went down to his crotch, which was positively bulging. My pussy tingled. God, was I still horny after all that fucking and abuse?
