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You asked what I'm doing here, and I owe you a story.” He walked past me, lit his cigarette dramatically, and paused. I leaned forward so he could light mine. Then, I stepped left to take the closest seat. We were the only ones in the car.The heavy-flow air vents meant to keep the smell to a minimum pumped at full volume in the foreground. I found my chest heaving, as I stared at his chiseled face and looked his body up and down in anticipation. I licked my lips once and had to stop myself from doing it a second time.I looked down at the cigarette, then took a full drag with my eyes closed, before finding the courage to look at his face againHe saw my greedy look.“Well,” he began, “it's embarrassing but…” he ashed his cigarette and took a drag, looking pained. “I went home early from work, today. Saw my wife in bed with another man. Neither of them saw me. They were very, uh, focused. " He said the word like it took him a moment to remember it, like it tasted bad.My face softened,. Once my pussy was juicy, they would dip the rolls into my cunt. This went on for a while. I was kissed, fondled, finger fucked, and orally eaten. Each man enjoyed me in some kind of capacity. When all the sushi was eaten, I was naked on the table. The men took their clothes off and circled around the table. The groom-to-be approached me first. He licked my pussy up and down like an ice cream cone. He sucked on my clit and pushed one finger into my warm box. He proceeded to push several fingers into my cunt and fingered me hard. “Fist her!" they shouted. The groom-to-be pushed his fist deeper into my pussy. I was squirming all over the table which was making me excited. He pushed it in and then pulled it out. He did this several times. Eventually, I began to squirt. “Fuck! She squirts. That’s fucked up!” The men were enjoying that I could squirt. They were all pulling on their cocks while they watched me have squirting orgasms. “Fuck! You’re so fucking hot.” While my pussy was being.
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She reviewed the guidelines and saved a copy to her desktop. She sat at the keyboard, her body on fire, a tall glass of red wine in reach. She began to type. Closing her eyes and imagining what it would be like. To be taken. To have no choice. To be unable to say no. Having no need to look at the keys, her imagination quickly formed a direct path from her brain, through her fingertips to the keyboard. As the images of her being violated filled her head, the story grew in length. Her legs had long ago parted on their own and she could feel the dampness between them. Odd, she thought, I usually only have that reaction with him. She had not gotten very far, but far enough to stop for the night. As she dreamed that night her head was filled with the last three words she had typed prior to saving the file. ‘Submit or Die!’ echoed through her night. Three weeks later he stood on the knoll. Surveying the darkness. Just as in her fantasy. She stood in the kitchen, drinking the last sip.

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