There was an instant's pause and then Neville took hold of the hem of my jumper, pulling it tight against my flesh. The rough wool tickled my bare skin as my last vestige of modesty was eased up over my bottom and then pulled off over my head, leaving me naked. I shivered in pleasure as the cool air touched my flesh and with the knowledge that he could see the whole of my nakedness. I pulled the small of my back in and opened my legs a little more, not wanting to hide his view of my pouting pussy or the crack of my bottom. Susan pulled me further into her chest as his hands cupped my bottom-cheeks, weighing them and pulling them open. There was a pause, and I knew he would be inspecting my anus, thinking how tight it looked, wondering how it was going to feel straining around his erection when he buggered me.
Something wet touched my bottom-hole and I relaxed, letting it open to his tongue. I felt a runnel of saliva touch my pussy-lips as the firm, muscular tongue-tip explored my anus, opening and lubricating my back passage for his cock. Sighing and cuddling Susan, I pushed outwards, drawing a murmur of appreciation from him as my anus everted to accept his tongue. I imagined my bumhole as a fleshy pink flower, opening slowly in response to moisture. I had seldom felt so open and juicy, both pussy and bum, and I knew I would be ready for his cock soon when one and then two fingers were slid easily up my behind.
âAre you sure, Penny?' he asked gently.
âYes, put it in,' I managed, gagging in my passion. âGo on, bum-shag me, use me like you use Susan, right up my dirty little hole.'
The fingers were pulled out and I relaxed, breathing slowly and deeply, keeping my anus receptive. His thumbs gripped the inside of my cheeks, spreading the target, then I felt pressure in the centre as his round, fleshy knob touched me. I gasped as my bumhole strained to accommodate him, giving a little stab of pain as the head of his penis popped in and my anus closed around the narrow part of his shaft. I began to pant rhythmically as he forced his full length into my rectum, pulling slowly in and out to grease his shaft until I felt the coarse material of his trousers touch the tender flesh of my thighs and buttocks and knew that his erection was well and truly up my bottom.
âHang on,' I asked, knowing that when he started to thrust it would be hard to speak coherently, âI want your balls out so they bang against my pussy.'
âOK,' he sighed and began to wriggle his cock around inside me, keeping himself stimulated while I reached between my legs, found the opening of his fly and burrowed my hand into the slit of his longjohns and finally his underpants. His balls moved inside his thick, leathery scrotum as I scooped the sac out and nestled my pussy against it, finding that the coarse hair tickled my clit in a delightful way that made me giggle as I cuddled back into Susan, my head now slipped down to her tummy. Without warning she threw her legs up and wrapped them around my head, pushing my face into her wet pussy. I began to lick even as Neville's first real thrust caught me.
He really buggered me in earnest, gripping my hips and pushing his cock back and forth in my straining bumhole, making me pant as I licked his girlfriend's pussy. I had seen girls buggered on video, the pinky-red flesh of their bumholes stretched taut around their partner's cock shafts, the distended flesh everting each time the man pulled back. I knew my own anus would now look the same, stretched obscenely around the intruding prick as he used my bum for his pleasure.
His ball sac slapped against my empty, sodden fanny with each thrust, increasing my ecstasy but never quite bringing me off. Susan's hand locked in my hair as Neville began to pump faster, knocking the breath out of me as his hips smacked against my bare bum. My anus was on fire and I felt completely out of control, unable to do more than pant out my lust into Susan's sex, my mouthful of fleshy pussy almost suffocating me. I'd lost all track of how many times his prick had been rammed home in my bumhole when he suddenly stopped.
He began to pull it out and I guessed he was going to torment me by putting it back in. I was right. Four times he withdrew and then slid it back in. Each time my anus was left gaping, only to be filled with his erection. Each time it came out, I thought of how obscene I must look, with my bumhole open and his cock rearing above it, ready to go back up. Each penetration was pure bliss; yet, when he had pulled it out the fifth time, I was left waiting expectantly for my filling.
âPut it in; I want to come,' I pleaded, only to have his hand lock in my hair.
He took a firm grip and pulled my face off Susan's pussy.
âOh, no,' I moaned as I realised what he intended and that I was too aroused to resist.
He jerked my head round and I found myself faced with his erection, the erection that had just been in my bottom. He didn't try and make me suck, but held me still, forcing me to make the choice.
âOh, God, I'm going to do it,' I sighed and opened my mouth.
I began to suck, licking and slurping my mouth around a penis that had just been in my rectum. Susan was giggling and making little noises of excited disgust. Neville was breathing hard and grunting deep in his throat. It was like having all my dirtiest fantasies rolled into one, and I had to come while I was doing it. My hand went to my pussy, finding my clit, which was so hot and so sensitive that it felt as if it were burning. I concentrated on the cock in my mouth as I frigged, sucking and rubbing my tongue on the shaft, tasting his erection and my own flavour.
My orgasm hit me with incredible power, rising in my clit and going right through my body. I felt my sore, gaping bumhole contract, on nothing, then on Susan's finger. Neville pulled back, leaving me empty and resentful of being deprived of my lovely mouthful.
Susan's finger came out of my anus and into my mouth as Neville took me by the hips. I was in the middle of orgasm, my peak spoilt by Neville depriving me of his cock. As my tongue touched Susan's finger it started again, then Neville's cock was stretching my anus out, filling me, hurting me, buggering me until his balls were touching my frantically rubbing fingers.
I screamed and screamed as the full force of my interrupted climax hit me, punctuating my out bursts with sucks of Susan's finger. She laughed at my shameless ecstasy, bringing my pleasure to a peak so intense that I nearly fainted. Then I was coming down and becoming more aware of the pain in my bottom-hole as Neville's pushes became frantic. He went on for what seemed like ages, until I was squealing and kicking my feet against the seat. It hurt, yet I was determined to let him have his full pleasure in return for what he had given me. Finally, his hands locked in the soft flesh of my hips; he grunted and shoved his cock in my bottom to the very hilt. I felt a wet sensation around my anus and I knew that he'd given me the final, delicious indignity and come in my rectum.
12
Peeping
As my modem chimed its way towards connection with the Internet, a sound from outside my window drew my attention. Looking down I saw a straggling group of students heading for the Union building. They were clearly headed for a party; all of them were in fancy dress, and it was their laughter that had caught my attention.
I turned back to my monitor as my link came up, intent on discovering whether any comments had yet been made on my latest paper. There was a team in the US whose research was on similar lines, and I was particularly pleased that I had published first and also keen to find out what they thought. My usual search engine came up on the screen and I tapped in my name and a few key words which I hoped would cut out a good proportion of the irrelevant websites which normally come up in a search.
My search produced fourteen responses, and all ten on the first page were university websites. Feeling pretty pleased with myself, I clicked on the first and was soon absorbed in the comments of a Dr Pearce from one of the smaller middle-American universities.
Some time later the janitor, Colin, poked his head around the door to say that he was locking up and that I would have to leave by the back door. I thanked him absently and went back to my reading. As his footsteps receded along the corridor I was left in near silence, the only noises the hum of my computer and the distant throb of the city traffic. A moment later, I heard the characteristic crash of the front doors being slammed shut and knew that Colin had left.
It was nearly midnight when I broke off to fetch a coffee and visit the loo. My footsteps rang loud in the empty building, the echoes twice making me turn to see if anybody was coming down the corridor behind me. Laughing at my own irrational nervousness, I pushed open the door to my room and returned to my desk. A couple of clicks returned me to my original search, from which I went on to the second page. Of the four remaining sites, two were alternative pages at universities which I had visited, one was in some language I didn't recognise and the last appeared completely irrelevant. Feeling a touch disappointed, I moved the cursor towards the area for disconnection, only to stop as the final address caught my eye.
The site was something called âPeeping', which intrigued me. I clicked on it, wondering how it had come up on my search. The screen went white, then red and some text appeared in the middle. It was headed âPeeping', as the search data had told me. Below was my name and the name of the university and department, which explained why the page had come up. At the bottom was a link which said, âClick here to watch Penny pee, and more!'.
I moved the cursor straight to it, feeling slightly alarmed. Enough rude photos have been taken of me and I could think of more than one that showed me peeing. How any of them would have got on to the net, I had no idea, but I intended to find out. The screen went white again, then gave a message announcing that it was loading a large AVI file. I waited, fiddling nervously with my mouse and thinking about students getting access to pictures of me with my panties around my thighs.
The wretched thing was infuriatingly slow, but finally a picture appeared. At first I felt relief, as all it showed was a crescent of black against a white background. Then I realised that I was looking at the underside of a toilet seat and an instant later I appeared. I knew my mouth was open as I watched, but could only stare in horror at the screen. I appeared over the toilet, my face clearly recognisable. I turned, tugged my trousers and panties down and lowered myself on to the toilet, my naked bottom filling almost the entire screen. The picture darkened and then became brighter as the camera adjusted, showing a shockingly detailed view of the most intimate parts of my body. The soft curves of my thighs and bottom-cheeks occupied most of the screen, so close up that the texture of my skin was discernible. Every little fold and wrinkle of my pussy showed too: my pouted, hairy outer lips, my delicate inner lips protruding from between the outer, even the hood of my clitoris with the tip of the little whitish-pink button poking out underneath it. My anus was fully visible, too, a wrinkled star of pink-brown flesh, every tiny crevice visible.
Then I started to pee, a great gush of liquid squirting from my pussy while drips ran down my labia. I knew I was blushing furiously, yet couldn't stop watching, simultaneously fascinated and horrified by the site of my own pussy gushing pee into the toilet bowl. Of course I know how I pee, so I knew that the most humiliating moment of all was still to come. Sure enough, the flow of pee died to a trickle and stopped, my bottom wiggled as I shook the last drops free and then my hand appeared, clutching a piece of blue toilet paper. I put my hands to my face and watched through my fingers as I dabbed at my pussy, dropped the paper and then slid the top joint of my middle finger into my vagina.
I was squirming in shame as I watched myself pull the finger out and then put it to my clit, rubbing with little circular motions. I was praying that it wouldn't prove to be one of the few times when I had actually masturbated to orgasm on the loo, especially as when I got near orgasm I tended to slide a finger up my bottom. Fortunately it wasn't one of those occasions, but as the AVI ended I was left sitting staring at the screen, numb with shock and embarrassment. If there's one thing I know, it's my own sexuality, and it didn't surprise me that I was turned on as well. Sexual humiliation does that to me, and this was a prime example.
I suppose my feelings were especially strong because my sex life had been a bit flat recently. As so often happens in my life, all the proposals that came my way were of the âcandlelit dinner and loving relationship' type. I was still in love with Amber, but could have done with the occasional rough shag with no emotional strings. For some reason, nobody seems to make that sort of suggestion to me, or at least they hadn't since I had taken up my lecturer's post in the north Midlands. There had been one or two exotic encounters, but nothing that could be repeated and so being made use of on the Net really stirred me up, whether I liked it or not.
I sat there for a bit and then rather guiltily saved the AVI on to a floppy disc, intending to take it home and then masturbate over it at my leisure. I knew I'd have to, and knew the orgasm would be great, but that didn't in any way diminish my feelings of righteous indignation that somebody had had the sheer cheek to film me peeing and then put it on the net for public viewing!
Several questions were going through my mind: where, when and how â but, most importantly, who? I was determined to find out, although I was also aware that the one way to absolutely guarantee the maximum embarrassment was to make a complaint. As it was, there was a good chance that nobody I knew would ever access the site in question. If I complained, then it could be guaranteed that every person in the university would have accessed the site within hours of learning about it. My colleagues would make sympathetic comments, my students would snigger every time I came into a room, some wag was more than likely to take a print and put it on the notice board. No, complaining was out of the question, but revenge wasn't.