Last Chance

LAST CHANCE By Throne My love life had gone from bad to worse to non-existent. I'll admit, I didn't have much going for me to begin with, being short, slender and weak. That was enough to make most women reject me. The few who would go out with me tended to be skinny, which I hated because I preferred big busts and asses. What really knocked me out of the competition was that, even with the few I dated, when I was fortunate enough to get them into my bedroom and they saw the size of my penis, all three and a half skinny inches of it, they usually laughed and walked out. That's why I was thrilled when I got an unexpected phone call from Livvy, who I hadn't seen or heard from since our high school graduation, five years before. I had fond memories of her sweet face and soft voice. I also had lustful memories of her bodacious boobs and backthrusting bottom. I didn't even mind much that she was a head taller than I was. But what I remembered most was how nice she was to me, often letting me take her out for burgers and fries at a place we passed on our walk home from school. Later, when I got a car, I took her to some of the better restaurants and, credit card at the ready, encouraged her to order anything on the menu. My folks covered the charge bills, which was no problem for them as we had plenty of money. Of course, that was before Mom had her affair and Dad his breakdown. Then, after he recovered and married the head nurse from the sanatorium, he changed a lot, devoting himself to his new wife to an unnatural degree. But the call from Livvy got my mind off my dating disasters and dark thoughts about my parents various relationships. I viewed Livvy as my last chance to succeed at romance and vowed to myself that I wouldn't give up on her no matter what happened. I recalled how jealous I'd always been of the way other guys gawked at her curvacious form and angelic features, as well as her long, straight brown hair. Not that she ever returned their attentions, being modest and strictly chaste. She had always worn dark skirts, blouses with high lacy collars, and practical shoes. After we made a date to visit one of the fancy eateries we had gone to before, I got more and more excited about seeing her again. It was going to be fabulous, I told myself. I arrived at the Chez Alfred early, checked our reservation, and then went out front to wait for Livvy. A car pulled up and she slid out of the passenger side. I only got a glimpse of the driver, a brawny guy with a blond crewcut, and felt my old jealousy rise. Then I got a good look at Livvy and forget my concerns. She was as I remembered her, though she had gained a few pounds, all of which had gone to her curves. No problem there. She still dressed the same but her tame outfits only made her sexuality more noticable; trying to disguise it had the opposite effect. I wanted to hug her, to feel those cushiony breasts against my narrow chest, but she offered her hand and I shook it. Her personality certainly hadn't changed, which was fine with me because I hated to think she had been with other guys. Thoughts of the big one who had driven her resurfaced. I couldn't think of a polite way to ask about him though and, as I said, wasn't about to say or do anything that might come between us. We entered the restaurant, were taken to our table, and perused the menus. I ordered a glass of white wine but she only wanted club soda. I saw that as another positive sign. We ordered our meals and then chatted about old times while we waited. The food came, we talked some more, all of it upbeat but pretty inconsequential, and had a good time. When she ordered an expensive dessert I remembered how she had always done that before. I also remembered how I always selfishly pictured the added calories contributing to larger bra and panty sizes. It turned out that she was back in town, preparing to make the move permanent, and working a temp job. She had visited another old friend, Beth, and wondered if I remembered her. I said that I did, but only slightly. The truth was quite different. Beth had been the bane of my life back in school. She badmouthed me to other girls, told guys that I had flirted with her so they would push me around, and even gotten Livvy dates with jocks to keep me away from her. I hated Beth. The nastiest thing she had ever done to me was to start a rumor that I had stolen the football team's plays and given them to a rival school, costing us the championship. That one not only got me smacked around in the locker room by Steve Carver, but the incident ended with me being stripped naked and tossed out into the hall just as classes changed. Plenty of the girls saw me naked, on the floor, my unimpressive genitals on display. One of those girls had been Livvy, though she never said anything about it afterward, one more example of how caring she was toward me. After the meal, we got in my car and I asked Livvy if she would like to stop at my apartment and see our old yearbook. She agreed instantly, which I took as a good sign. I wanted to put my hand on her full thigh but her reserved behavior stopped me. We got to my place and as ahe preceeded me up the inside stairs I couldn't take my eyes off her broad, swaying rump. I got so worked up that when we reached my door I dropped my keys -- twice. Inside, I got her a ginger ale and poured myself some wine. We looked at the yearbook, sitting so close together that at least I got to feel my leg against hers. I was still trying to think what my next move should be when Livvy mentioned that she had an early start at work the next morning. I drove her home and walked her to the door of the modest house she had inherited from her great-uncle. At the front door I expected just a handshake, so it was a pleasant surprise when she took my face lightly between her hands, brought her lips down to mine, and gave me a firm, though close-mouthed, kiss. I was in heaven as I said goodnight and turned to go. She surprised me again, this time by saying, "Thanks for a lovely evening. Why don't we go out again Friday night." "I... Oh. Sure. That'd be great." After that we saw each other a few times a week. Though I was maddeningly horny, I took it slow, memories of past romantic disasters surfacing in my mind. Livvy set the pace, advancing to open-mouth kisses, putting my hand on her hip, and then, while we sat on the couch at her place, on her breast. Somehow it was always her who set the limits. If I tried to accelerate our pace she would stop me with a whispered 'no'. Again, I wasn't about to scare her away, so I didn't oppose her control. After more than a month of just petting, she invited me into her bedroom. Ecstasy! Standing by her bed she told me, "John, why don't you take my panties off for me?" At the same time she put her hands on my shoulders and pressed down firmly. "Just get down on your knees so you can reach them easier." Who was I to argue? I knelt and slid my hands up under her pleated skirt. She laughed sweetly and let me work the lingerie down her legs. I was pleased to see that they were lacy and high-cut. Uncharacteristically sexy. Then she flipped the front of her skirt over my head. I was practically eye-to-slit with her lightly furred pussy. I could smell her natural musk. "Johnny, dear." Her words were sing-song. "Why don't you give me a real long deep kiss while you're there? Hmmmm?" Her fingers went to the back of my head and pressed my face against her mound. That wasn't how I had expected things to go, and I thought that kind of oral contact was unpleasant, but I pressed my lips to her vagina anyway. "That's gooood," she sighed. "A long kiss. And DEEP." She moved her feet further apart to give me greater access. I probed her moistness with my tongue, even though the taste was off-putting. She lowered her attractive bottom onto the mattress and closed her thighs around the sides of my head, then laid back. I was on the floor, lapping her increasingly wet labia and beyond, while she relaxed on the bed. The situation had gotten away from me but I stuck to my decision not to risk any friction. Livvy encouraged me. "You're so good at that, Johnny. I'm getting so excited. Don't stop, whatever you do. Don't stop for even a second. Don't say anything. Just keep doing that." She had me down there for at least a half hour before I gave her a squirming, vocal climax. I lightened my tongue-strokes as she settled into a purring afterglow. Then, instead of inviting me up onto the bed with her, Livvy sat up and put her thighs over my shoulders, the skirt still over my head. She pressed my face against her pubes again and held it there. "You're certainly good at that," she said. "Now, I remember when Steve and the other guys tossed you out of the locker room. Remember?" After I muttered against her pungent slit that I did, she went on. "Well, all us girls saw that there's hardly anything between your legs, Johnny. I don't want to sound mean but, I don't want that little thing in me, at least not right now. So how about if we keep going out and you can make me happy the same way you just did whenever I want it, but we'll hold off on regular sex. I mean, it would just be a waste of time for me, wouldn't it?" Again I had to mumble into her feminine center, agreeing with her rather than losing her. I wanted to run to the bathroom and wash my mouth, outside and in, but she liked having me exactly where I was. Livvy stroked the top of my head through her skirt. "That's terrific, Johnny. I'm glad you understand. Now why don't you just give me some more kissing down there? No tongue. Just sweet romantic kisses. Come on, Johnny. Do it. For me." Feeling trapped but also sporting a rigid erection, all three-and-a-half slim inches of it, I showered her wet pussy with soft, unhurried kisses that I would have preferred to place on her plump lips. It was torture to be so close to having sex and then get denied. After another half hour she finally let me escape my strange confinement. Livvy discretely kept her skirt in place, not even allowing me a look at her legs -- or anything else. She didn't offer me anything to drink as we sat and chatted, with her doing most of the talking, so I couldn't get rid of that unwanted taste. Her subject was what a loser I'd been in school, though she put a sympathetic tone into her words. By the end of our date I felt like an absolute failure, even worse than I ever had in school. At the same time, I had been dating my dream girl for over a month, and now had gotten into her bedroom. Granted, the encounter that took place there was one-sided, with her enjoying a climax and me knowing I would have a royal case of blue balls, but I told myself that it would get better. I was right -- and wrong. Livvy let me fondle and suck her breasts, stroke her bottom and kiss her buttocks (that last being her idea), even had me massaging her legs and back, but I never got to penetrate her. She always steered me into giving her lots of oral sex. And she never offered to reciprocate. I was perpetually horny and had to resort to masturbation. It was humiliating but at least she didn't catch on. Anyway, I got really hooked on her and so was pleasantly surprised when she declared that we should get married. At last, I told myself, we would be able to have real sex. The next several weeks flew by. Anytime I questioned her about our sex life she would give me a treat, like putting on a fashion show of her lingerie, which was all quite racy. I was thrilled to see that less-than-prim side of her. Or she would invite me into the shower with her to wash her back and legs, even having me sit in the tub to soap up her bottom until I was ready to scream from frustration. But the sex remained one way, with me doing all the giving and her enjoying all the taking. We had a small wedding. Livvy wore an attractive white gown, though its plunging neckline bothered me. My Mom was there with her second husband, both of them appearing very happy. My Dad came too, with his second wife, who directed his every move and scolded him in front of everyone. At the reception she danced with every guy in sight, including Steve Carver who, I by then suspected, had been the driver who dropped her off for that first date with me. I tried not to let any of that bother me, thoughts of our wedding night filling my head. I had sublet my apartment and the new tenent, a guy Livvy recommended, had just taken possession of the place, even though I still had some possessions to move out. So we went to her house. I was really excited when we got to the bedroom and she started to undress. When she was down to just her white garter belt and matching stockings, plus cream-colored heels, along with her wedding veil, she asked me, "How do I look now?" "Livvy," I said passionatly. "You're incredible. I've been waiting for this so long. Since school, really. I've thought of you so many nights." "And jerked off to those thoughts, too," she said with a smirk. Stunned that she could know that I numbly said, "Yes. But how did you..." Then it hit me. She had merely guessed. All at once she was scowling at me. "You pervert. Is that what I am to you, a jack-off fantasy? I can't believe I married a winky-dicked jerk like you because I believed you loved me. Well, I'm not going to endure the disgrace of an annulment or a divorce. We'll stay married but I'm going to make your life a living hell." "B... but Livvy. I'm sorry. I mean, I couldn't help it. It's just that you're so gorgeous and I was so alone." "So you whacked off to me until you could fool me into becoming the real thing for your sick games. Well, Mister, you can keep playing with your pathetic little dick because you'll never get it inside of me." I had not only messed up my new marriage but dug myself even deeper into trouble. She was still furious. I told her I would do anything she wanted to make it up to her. "Really?" she asked slyly. "Well, let me make one phone call." There followed a whispered conversation. After she was done on her cellphone she told me to get naked. About 10 minutes later as I stood there, ashamedly bare-bottomed, there was a knock on the door. My bride snapped at me to answer it. Covering my genitals with one hand I opened the door a few inches to see who it could be. There stood Beth, my wife's friend -- and MY enemy. With her was my other nemesis, Steve. Beth slammed the door into me and strode past. Stever followed her inside like he owned the place. As he passed he grabbed my hair and dragged me along with him. "So," said Beth. "Livvy tells me what a whack-job you turned out to be. And that you've been whacking yourself to fantasies about her. That's sick, you shrimpdicked loser." "Yeah," seconded Steve. "And move your hand or I'll break it." I unwillingly took my hand away so that my miserably small dick and balls were uncovered for all to see. It was even more demeaning than the locker room incident had been. I stood there trembling as I awaited my fate. "Here's what I think should happen," Livvy said. "It's my wedding night and I want some great sex, so Steve is going to take me to bed and give me a proper screwing. And my imbecile husband always had a bad attitude toward you, Beth, so I think he should have to do whatever you tell him to while I'm getting my box knocked. He's good at eating pussy, hon, if you feel like getting off." To my dismay, they both went along with her cruel plan. I had to fight to hold back tears. Then Steve stepped up to me and punched me hard in the stomach. I folded up and went down onto my knees. Beth followed him and kicked me hard in the side, toppling me over. As I lay there groaning, my wife slammed the pointed heel of her wedding shoe between my buttocks, dead center, hitting her small but vulnerable target and making me howl. They all laughed and went to the kitchen to make themselves drinks. By the time I was able to get back onto my feet they were returning. Beth had removed her skirt and panties so that I had to look at her hairy crotch and protruding pussy lips. I started to feel sick at the prospect of having to put my mouth down there. Steve sat on the sofa and Livvy put herself on his lap. His thick blunt fingers pawed her bare tits and she kissed him hungrily, driving her tongue into his mouth. Beth told me, "Get back down on your knees where you belong, craphead." I looked desperatly at my new wife. "Livvy, please, stop this now. You must love me... at least a little." "Not after what you said. Any feelings I had for you are gone and they'll never come back. Think about it, stupid. You could have had what Steve's going to be getting real soon. You could have had it whenever you wanted. But you tried to mislead me to feed your pervy needs. Now, instead, you'll get nothing." Beth added, "Except my pussy in your face." She grabbed the back of my head and pulled my mouth against her mound. I guess I was conditioned from all the times Livvy had made me do it, because I started licking at once, probing and sucking. Beth ground herself against my lower face, covering it and even my nose with her sticky secretions. I gagged but didn't stop serving her. She backed up, dragging me with her, and sat heavily on an easy chair, then slid her butt forward and spread her legs lewdly wide. As I lapped her I could hear Livvy praising Steve and telling him over and over what a lost cause I had turned out to be. Then Beth made me turn my head to see what they were doing. Livvy had loosened Steve's trousers and had his cock out. It was standing up in her hands, a solid thick eight inches. She was kneeling alongside him on the sofa. As I watched she lowered her head and opened her mouth wide, taking in the bulbous knob and half his length without even trying. Then she sank her lips down to his heavy balls and gave a long suck before slowly sliding back up his now wet member and removing her mouth with a juicy slurp. Beth had me turn around, threw her legs over my shoulders and kept me there while the others continued to make out. Steve had his hands all over my wife and she didn't object once. Then they stood, he took her hand, and the pair headed for the bedroom where I had expected to consummate my marriage. Beth got up, grabbed me by the ear, and yanked hard. "On your feet, creep. Next stop, the spare bedroom." Still gripping my ear, giving it a twist, she walked me there and pushed me onto the bed. Beth removed her blouse and bra, brazenly flouting her big tits. She got onto the mattress and threw one leg across me so that she was straddling my head. I looked up at her pussy for a second before she plumped it down on my face and started riding me. She wasn't even making me lick her, just rubbing herself all over my features for stimulation. Being used like that was somehow even worse than being made to eat her. She kept it up for a full ten minutes before she had a loud wet orgasm. Her gyrations slowed and gradually stopped. She sighed happily. Then, before I could fully regain my breath, she reversed herself and settled her broad ass over my face, wedging my nose all the way into her deep cleft. I was nearly smothering as she bounced up and down several times. "Let's go," she barked. "Time for your dessert, licky-licky boy. Get your tongue busy back there and don't stop before I tell you or I'll twist your balls until you scream like a girl. Kiss my ass, loser. And lick it. Outside and in." She laughed at my helplessness. I had no choice but to perform the unthinkably awful act as she rolled her backside atop my face. It was disgusting. Beth was turning her hatred for me into real punishment. She allowed me just enough air to remain concious as my ordeal went on and on. At long last she dismounted and let me sit up. "So," she said. "I heard your lovely wife let out a howl not too long ago. I'm guessing they're done the first round. Let's go and see." She got up and I reluctantly followed her to the main bedroom. The door was opened and I could hear my bride telling Steve what a fantastic stud he had been. Livvy said throatily, "I wouldn't mind getting nailed like that on a regular basis." "No problem," he told her. "I'm the man to keep you happy in bed. Not like that useless husband of yours." "He's not completely useless," she said with a giggle. "I'll still keep him around to lick my pussy." Just as Beth marched me in, her hand squeezing my upper arm, Steve said, "Why don't you have him lick it now, while it's full of my cream. Maybe all that protein would make his itty bitty dick grow." "I doubt that," Livvy snickered. "But it would be a kick to watch him have to gobble up another man's spunk from my freshly screwed pussy." She saw Beth and me. "Bring him here," she told her friend. "We have a job that he'll be perfect for." Beth led me over and ordered me to kneel on the bed. Steve had me get between Livvy's spread legs. Then my wife grinned at me, pointed to my mouth, and then to her crotch. The message was clear but I didn't want to put my tongue where Steve had just had his big cock, where he had left his generous load of cum. But then he slapped me hard on the back of the skull. I didn't need more of a warning than that. I lowered my mouth to Livvy's mound and got busy scooping out sperm and swallowing it, alternating that with licking and sucking, giving her the full treatment. She moaned appreciatively and wiggled her hips sexily. Not until she was thoroughly cleaned and had enjoyed a second, smaller climax, was I permitted to stop. I got up feeling queasy and utterly humiliated. How could I ever face my wife again after everything that had just happened? To make it worse, Beth gave her a full report of what had transpired in the other bedroom. I was a broken man. What has happened in the year since then? For me, nothing good. The four of us started going out to cheap clubs on double dates. My wife and Steve, Beth and me. I would have to watch Livvy being touched and kissed by Steve in public. At the same time, Livvy would tease me, getting me highly aroused, even though the girls rarely let me have any release. I might be allowed to finish once every other week, always by playing with myself while the females watched, mocked my size, and ridiculed my lowly status. At home it was even worse. I was a virtual slave to the three of them. Often I had to stay naked. Livvy went to bed with Steve several times a week and I always had to clean up her pussy with my mouth. Beth delighted in using and abusing me. She forced me to lick her unwashed feet, give her backrubs, and go down on her front and back. Sometimes, after she had been out with one of the rough guys she favored, she would come to the house and make me tongue her clean. If I was too busy with her to clean my wife, I got to do that the next morning. When Livvy's pussy had been full of Steve's cum all night, when I finally did get my mouth on it she called it my 'cuckold's breakfast'. Their friends all know what my situation is and look down on me as a sick freak. It's been so long since I was able to have an orgasm when I wanted, or to experience any sort of sexual situation in which I wasn't suffering and being demeaned, that I'm starting to accept all of it as normal, at least for me. I still hate every second of it, but it's what I'm used to now. I don't know if I could manage a regular sex life if I had the chance, not that I imagine that will ever happen. I'm trapped in this horrible situation, and all because of my one stupid response on our wedding night. One thing I can't stop wondering about. Did Livvy guess my weakness and trick me into that confession, just to have an excuse for everything that has followed? I can't stop obsessing over the possibility that this is what she wanted all along. After all, on our wedding night, if she was such an innocent girl before that, how had she been able to deep-throat Steve's big rampant cock like a pro? I try not to think about that too much, however. After all, if it's true, if she never cared about me for even a moment, that would take away my store of fond memories, along with thoughts of the hopes I once held. Could I stand to lose all that, too? 10277 1.25/512345