Dangerous Desires (32 page)

Annabelle could feel the burning heat of her inflamed anal canal as the swollen cockhead glided in and out of her tight anal ring. His swinging balls smacking the hairless lips of her vagina, his lower belly meeting her rounded buttocks, he grabbed her hips and fucked her with a vengeance. At last, Annabelle felt the gush of sperm, the cooling cream lubricating the fiery sheath of her anal cylinder as she rocked back and forth. The spunk squelching loudly, slipping from her dilated anal opening and running down between the full lips of her cunt, she waited until she was sure that the man’s balls had drained fully before ordering him to withdraw his cock.

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“Another one,” she gasped as his knob left her spunked anal hole. “Quickly. I want another cock fucking my arsehole.” A bulbous glans pressing against the well-lubricated ring of her anus, Annabelle let out a rush of breath as the solid shaft impaled her completely. “Fuck my spunked arse hard,” she instructed her second stud in her rising debauchery. Her naked body rocking again, her pretty mouth grinning as she felt the first man’s sperm bubbling within her rectum, she knew that she’d found her true domain. No matter what happened with the unseen force, whether she was blessed with the power or not, she had her young body to lure men to her house for hours of illicit sex.

Her life transformed, Annabelle knew that she’d at last left Brian behind. She didn’t need him. She’d
never
needed him. All his nonsense about Annabelle being nothing without him ... If anything, he’d proved that he was nothing without her. She’d been nothing more than his prop, his scapegoat, his excuse for achieving nothing in his life. He was a loser, and always would be.

On reflection, Annabelle realized that Brian had held her back. Whatever she’d tried to accomplish, he’d been there dragging her down, holding her back.

“Harder,” she ordered her stud as he repeatedly drove his purple knob deep into the very core of her young body. If Brian could see her now, she mused as sensations of forbidden pleasure coursed through her abused body. But Brian had never seen anything apart from his own miserable existence, his own wholly ludicrous point of view. The few successes she’d achieved had not only been overshadowed by his jealousy but his selfish attitude. Recalling the time she’d raised several hundred pounds for charity, she remembered Brian saying that she’d not have done it without his help and encouragement.

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Her anal sphincter muscles gripping the pistoning cock shaft, she tried not to think about Brian. But memories loomed, hurting her mind. He’d deliberately be nasty to her, hurt her, so he could love her better. He was a sad individual with a sad life, she mused, the man kneeling behind her gasping as his orgasm approached. She knew that Brian had thrown her out to teach her a lesson, but she now realized that his plan was to love her better when she returned to the marital home. He didn’t seem to know what he was doing, she thought as she waited for a gush of spunk to flood her bowels. Running to the police with his pathetic allegations, spreading malicious lies and rumours ... He was lurching from one idiotic plan to another with no direction.

None of this was necessary, she knew as she imagined him being questioned by the police. After the divorce, Annabelle would have been quite happy to have remained friends with Brian. There was no need for arguments, trouble, bitterness and hatred. There again, she knew that, with his peculiar mental state, that would never have been possible. By throwing her out and expecting her to go crawling back to him, he’d backed a non-starter, a non-runner.

Reckoning that he’d bet everything on her returning, placed all he had on his bet to win, she realized that he’d lost everything.

“Yes,” she gasped as her tight arse tube flooded with fresh spunk. The male cream oozing from the burning iris of her abused anus and running down the valley of her vagina, she wondered what Brian would say if he were to walk into the room and witness her wanton whoredom. Was this moving on in life? she pondered, her rectal duct bubbling with sperm. Men lining up to fuck and spunk her ass, to use and abuse her femininity ... Yes, it
was
moving on, she decided. Moving on and away from a mundane life of mental torture.

275

Her anal canal overflowing with the male cream of orgasm, she realized that the memories of her ex-husband would always be there. She couldn’t deny his existence, he was a real part of her life’s history. All she’d wanted was to be left in peace, she reflected. Friendship with her ex was never an option, but ... Surely the police could see what was going on, she mused. They weren’t stupid, were they? An ex-husband, estranged, bitter, jealous, crazy in the head ... The police must have realized that he was on some insane venture to cause trouble and wreak destruction. Wondering whether she should go running to the police with a few allegations, she knew that she’d only be lowering herself to Brian’s level.

The police would have chatted among themselves, she mused. They’d have talked about the situation and probably had a laugh at Brian’s expense.
She did this, she did that. She came to
mu house and stole my money, she smashed my video recorder ...
The police were probably as pissed off with Brian as Annabelle was. Thinking about it, she thought that they were fare more pissed off with Brian than she was. They had better things to do, real crimes to solve. To have to waste their time listening to his pathetic complaints must have been frustrating beyond comprehension. The man-hours, the paperwork, the cost ... None of it was necessary.

As the young man withdrew his spunk-slimed cock out of her burning rectum to make way for the next solid penis, Annabelle pondered on Brian’s allegations of her adultery throughout their farcical marriage. He’d desperately wanted her back, and had probably told everyone that she’d go back once she’d realized that she was nothing without him. Discovering how wrong he was, he’d obviously changed his tune and said that he didn’t want her because she was an adulteress. His lies, like his crazy mind, lurched from this way to that with no direction.

And people were now seeing that.

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“Come on,” Annabelle gasped, looking up at the four remaining men. “Whoever’s going to fuck my arse, get on with it.” Grinning as a fresh glans pressed hard against the delicate tissue of her anus, Annabelle wondered why she couldn’t get her ex-husband out of her mind. What was he planning? What ludicrous tales was he telling the police now? To say that Annabelle needed psychiatric help proved that he was ill in his head. Again thinking that by trying to destroy her, all he was doing was destroying himself, Annabelle wondered why he couldn’t see that. Was his miserable life really so devoid of purpose, of meaning, that he had nothing better to do other than spend all his time planning her downfall?Yes, it was, she concluded.

There was a whole world out there, and yet Brian cowered in his little world planning his misery. What would he do if she moved away and he couldn’t find her? she wondered. If she moved to another town or, better still, abroad somewhere. He’d be at a total loss, his world would fall apart. Even after the divorce, he’d proved that couldn’t live without her. His life centred on her, on bringing about her downfall. If she
did
move away, she reckoned that he’d crack up. Without his ex-wife to concentrate on, he’d have nothing. And he’d crack up.

Again trying to push all thoughts of Brian to the back of her mind, Annabelle listened to the sound of spunk bubbling and squelching as her rectal sheath was crudely fucked by a huge cock. This was the ultimate in decadence, she mused. The ultimate in sexual debauchery, degradation ... But why was she behaving like this? she wondered. Why was she using and abusing her young body, giving sex away to strangers purely for the sake of debased pleasure?

Was she somehow trying to make up for the years she’d wasted with Brian? Was she trying to prove something?

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Apart from immense sexual satisfaction, her sexually debauched and whorish way of life gave her a sense of power. Even without the unseen force, Annabelle’s curvaceous young body gave her power over men. Stifled by Brian, suffocated by her farcical marriage, she’d not been able to live. Brian had sucked the life force out of her, leaving her mentally depleted, physically exhausted. He’d been like a leech, living off her, nourishing himself at her expense. A rat gnawing, chewing ... Had she not left when she did, she reckoned that she’d have been unable to hold her head above the waters of depression. She’d have eventually drowned in the murky waters of his gloom.

But, even now, she wasn’t free of him. A thorn in her side, a leech, a gnawing rat, a dull aching pain, a heavy rain cloud permanently hovering above her ... Whichever analogy she used, none summed up her ex-husband. There was no rhyme nor reason to his peculiar behaviour. But there wouldn’t be, she reflected. By the very nature of insanity, there could be no rhyme nor reason for the behaviour of the mentally ill.

Her anal canal filling with another load of fresh spunk, the cooling liquid coursing down between the swollen lips of her hairless vulva, Annabelle shuddered in her debauchery. She wasn’t trying to prove anything, she decided. She was simply enjoying the delights of her young body, lapping up the pleasure derivable from solid cocks spunking in orgasm. There was no need for self-analysis. She was doing what she was doing because she loved crude sex. She was behaving like a common slut because that’s what she was.

278

“Who’s next?” she gasped as the spent penis slipped out of her sperm-flooded rectal canal, leaving her anal aperture gaping. Another man taking his position behind her, his bulbous knob stabbing at the inflamed brown tissue of her arse, she let out a rush of breath as his penile shaft entered her, completely impaling her quivering body on his massive cock. The anal fucking commencing, Annabelle closed her eyes and pictured the brown ring of her anus stretched tautly around the thrusting shaft, the delicate tissue rolling back and forth along the massive cock.

Could she take a dozen cocks? she wondered. Could she endure twelve men taking her one after the other, fucking the burning duct of her tight arse and pumping their spunk deep into the heat of her bowels?

Her inflamed anal cylinder filling with more spunk, she hung her head and gasped. Only two men left, she mused, her hairless cunt lips repeatedly slapped by a heavy pair of swinging balls. Only two men’s cocks left to fuck her arse and then ... Trying to decide which crude sexual act to have her studs perform next, her thoughts again turned to Brian. Wondering why she couldn’t stop thinking about him, she decided to play games with him by telling him that she wanted to get together and try again. Although he believed that she was remarrying, she reckoned that he’d jump at the chance to take her back.

Mulling over her plan as her arse again filled with creamy spunk, she realized just how desperate she was to be rid of her ex-husband and his continual harassment. Playing games wasn’t the answer, she knew. She was just trying to come up with a way to stop him running to the police with his ridiculous allegations. Leading him to believe that there was a chance of reconciliation might work for a while. But he’d soon be off on his mental trips and again run to the police with his fantasies.

279

The fourth cock leaving the fiery sheath of her rectum, Annabelle wondered whether she could take two more anal fuckings. Realizing that she needed a few minutes to recover as sperm streamed from the sore eye of her dilated anus, she ordered her studs to sit down. Lying on the floor on her back, her mind swamped with thoughts of Brian, she couldn’t understand her thinking. Brian was beginning to occupy her mind full-time. She had six men to enjoy, six beautiful cocks to fuck and spunk her naked body. And yet she could think of nothing other than her ex-husband. Glancing at the men as they sat around the room in silence, she decided to phone Brian. This had to be done, she knew as she clambered to her feet and staggered to the kitchen of her jelly-like legs.

“I want you to come round,” she said as he answered his phone.

“Carole, I ...”

“It’s Annabelle, you fool,” she snapped.

“Oh, er ... Right.”

“Come round here now, Brian. I want to show you something.”

“Do you know what I’ve been through at the police station?” he whined.

“I don’t give a fuck what you went through. Christ, after all you’ve put me through ... Get round here now. I want to show you once and for all that ... Just get round here now.”

Hanging up, she felt her hands trembling, her heart racing, as she wondered what the hell she was planning. Grabbing a leather belt from her bedroom, she opened the front door before returning to the lounge and ordering one of the men to drag the armchair into the centre of the 280

room. Passing the belt to a young man and bending her naked body over the back of the chair, she ordered him to thrash her naked bottom.

“Yes,” she gasped as the leather strap bit into the taut flesh of her buttocks. Her young body jolting each time the belt swished through the air and landed with a loud crack across the tensed orbs of her bottom, she knew that red weals would soon spread across her pale flesh. The pain permeating the stinging cheeks of her naked bottom, she imagined Brian’s face as he appeared and witnessed her debauched behaviour. Would his disgust send him packing? she wondered as a torrent of sperm streamed from her anal eye and ran in rivers down her inner thighs. Would he want nothing to do with her?

“Fuck me,” she gasped. “I want the next man to spunk my arse.” The whipping halting, she gasped as s solid knob slipped past her well-lubricated anal sphincter muscles and glided with ease into her sperm-drenched bowels. “You, Tom. You do it,” she ordered her stud. “Fuck me and fill me.” The crude fucking motions jolting her trembling body, she whimpered and squirmed as her clitoris inflated and her young womb contracted. Her vaginal juices oozing between the hairless lips of her vulva and blending with the sperm running down her thighs, she knew that she’d reached the bottom of her pit of decadence.