Side Slut Ch. 01

Literotic asexstories – Side Slut Ch. 01 by DallsBeep,DallsBeep Chapter 1

It was late in our first pregnancy that my 19 year old bride, Sophia, proposed that I should start using her 18 year old sister as my “side pussy.” In fact it was during a lull in a protracted evening of fucking that she first described the idea to me. Her already fat tits had grown a cup size and her rounded belly looked almost like a joke on her slim frame. Like a girl pretending to be pregnant by jamming a basketball under her shirt.

This meant that we had to choose our positions carefully.

The hard gymnastic hammering I’d accustomed her to when I’d taken her to my bed during her freshman year in college had to be replaced by slower more sensual encounters as her low back could no longer stand up to the weight of her swollen udders whipping back and forth when I took it in to my head to pound her cross eyed. And with her womb full to bursting with our daughter she couldn’t use her pussy to fully accommodate me.

Luckily from the start of our relationship I’d made clear that I would brook no squeamishness from her with respect to taking a good buttfucking when and however I required it. After her initial trepidation, and my having to force my prick up her shit-chute while pinning her in a half nelson and muffling her pleas that I was “too big, uhhhhhnnnn, too big,” she’d learned that nothing made her cum quite as hard as having her guts full of my big unrelenting cock.

It was within only a few weeks of my having staked my claim to her anus and taken her from nervous anal-virgin to eager butt-bitch, that she’d tearfully confessed to me–between slurps on the flaccid cock I’d just unsheathed from her still gaping behind, that it was my plundering of her final virginity & refusal to “take no for an answer” that had completely convinced her that she was in love with me.

“You made me feel owned. Made me feel like I belonged to you, only to you, that I was your property. It made me feel so safe and so desired. When you’ve got this fat-cock in my bootyhole…” Here she trailed off sniffling, an 18 year old wracked with emotion but inarticulate in the face of her deepest feelings, and preferring to suck more vigorously on the head of my dick than to try and express the inexpressible. Meanwhile I was moved as well–head over heels for the busty young thing I’d been making into my cock-crazed little slut.

Being barely 20 myself at the time her naked confession punctuated by her suckling at the cock still pungent with the tang of her colon and the heavy load of nut butter I’d deposited there, was more than enough to get my fuck-sword back to full attention. She gazed up at my rampant 10 inches in the reverent mix of awe and intimidation that a big dick inspires, her mouth slack and her eyes wide. Her gaze flicked to my face and without a word she turned and splayed herself face down on the bed again, reaching back with both hands to flatten her buttocks out of the way. Her pussy was swollen and slick with her juices, while her anus was still trying to resume its normal dimensions even as bubbles of my baby batter percolated out of her in steady pulses.

I mounted her without preamble. Drilling down into her harder than she could have handled weeks before. Her depths clenched at my woman-tamer, and she emitted a steady ecstatic moan through the teeth she’d clenched around her sheets. Soon her roommate doubtlessly heard her barks and whimpers and then her incockxitated voice crying “Hurt me papi! Oh godddd! Hurt your little bitch” coming through the wall of her dorm room.

Is it any wonder I’d made her my wife?

So many months later, I was spooning my woman, her womb swollen with my seed, and her asshole stretched tight as a glove around the base of my cock. She was catching her breath after her fifth or sixth orgasm while I cupped & kneaded her mammaries while gently stirring my lance in her guts.

“Daddy,” (ever since I’d knocked her up I was “daddy” in and out of the bedroom), “I’ve been thinking.”

“I thought Daddy did the thinking in this relationship?” I joked, punctuating my words with a little thrust of my hips that made her gasp.

“It’s true daddy,” she looked back over her shoulder at me, letting the pools of her eyes open to the penetration of my gaze, a young girl that I’d made into a woman. She squeezed the muscles in her depths around the shaft that was rearranging her insides, and bit her lip hard without breaking our gaze.

“But a good boss still needs to listen to his underlings, right?”she said, & I nodded and she smiled before another little thrust into her colon forced another gasping breath and made her heavy jugs jump in my grasping fists.

“And you’re the best boss ever so…”

I gave her a series of staccato thrusts, not even pulling my cock in and out, just shifting my hips rhythmically and causing her to hunch and jerk forward and back like a puppet or ventriloquist dummy where the arm up the things backside had been replaced by a big ass-invading prick in our scenario.

I pulled on her udders and whispered in her ear “Ok, what’s my little milk cow got to say?”

She shuddered with pleasure, writhing her legs but unable to escape the mind bending fullness the combination of her bursting womb and stuffed anus were subjecting her to.

“Ohhhhhh, Daddy, let your bitch finish!” I stilled my hips, reverting to lazily swiveling my cock in a gentle spiral.

“Ok bottom-bitch. What’s my little slut gotten into her head?”

I was expecting her to bring up something about the nursery in the house my folks had helped us buy as a graduation/wedding present, or some other quotidian matter. So what came next surprised even me.

“I’ve been thinking about how I’m going to take care of my wifely duties when the baby comes.”

This gave me pause. From the start of our relationship I’d been clear with my girl that she was expected to take my load 5-6 times a day. I’ve always suffered with a prodigious volume of semen and only multiple opportunities to cum daily kept my swollen peach sized balls from being a painful nightmare.

At first, naturally, she’d struggled with this, simply because her holes weren’t used to such regular occupation, nor to accommodating anything of my length and girth. I had now thoroughly stretched her to my dimensions, such that prior to my inseminating her and filling her pelvis with my get, she’d confessed to sometimes feeling “hollow” without my fuckstick planted to the hilt in her cunt or her ass-pussy. But initially it was clear that with all the will in the world my little fuckslut wasn’t capable of handling all her duties as my cum sponge.

She’d been painfully grateful when I’d explained that some of the time I could simply have her kneel down in the bath and I’d jack-off all over her face and her heaving tits. But even when she capitulated to letting me then piss all over her face and chest to rinse her off it was clear that this wasn’t a true solution to our problem. So that dripping with my urine and sticky with my splooge she had been forced to admit that we couldn’t be exclusive until she was able to fully satisfy me.

I loved and appreciated her can do spirit, and for the first few months of our relationship I continued to meet with various women on the side to take care of my needs. I knew this was hard for her, especially since she was becoming ever more imprinted on me and devoted to me. It had only been a few weeks after I’d forced my cock up her tight little butt that she’d shyly shown me the tattoo she’d had done on her lower back between the cute dimples over the rounded cheeks of her behind. Lined up with the cleft whose holes still weren’t up to the task of draining my balls adequately she’d had the tattoo artist inscribe a locked padlock with my initials on it.

She looked over her shoulder nervously while I contemplated this symbol of her sense of submission to me.

“Do you like it baby? I wanted something that showed that I’m yours. No matter what. Forever.”

Honestly I liked it, a lot. She was smart, funny, beautiful, and an eager submissive fuck. It was then I decided that I could probably marry this woman.

Nevertheless I gave her a stern look, “Babygirl, I love it. I love that you know who owns you.” Her face lit up with a radiant smile. “But honeycunt, you’re my property, and no one has the right to mark up a man’s property without his permission.” Her expression was a mix of fear and arousal at my dominant assertion of my rights to her person.

“Pull down your pants. I’m gonna take you over my knee.”

She didn’t protest.

She explained later that she was almost senseless with anxiety and anticipation.

Here I guess is where it helps to understand her family history.

Sophia’s mom, Cherie, was 16 and unmarried when she gave birth to Sophia, and it seemed she hadn’t learned anything new about birth control because about a year later she was pregnant again, with Sophia still sucking milk from Cherie’s big breasts and no ring on Cherie’s finger. That’s when she birthed Simone. But then when she was 19 she clearly hadn’t figured how to either keep her legs closed or get someone to put a ring on it cuz she was still a single teen mom with two infants when she gave birth to Sylvia, the baby of the family. At least then she had the sense to get her tubes tied.

The girls never knew their father. Or maybe fathers, I thought Cherie dripped sex from every pore and it was hard to imagine that only one man had dipped his wick in her fertile folds. But all of the girls took heavily after their mom: petite slim brunettes with full lips and olive skin and rounded behinds. Their breast sizes varied somewhat, but otherwise they all could share clothes without any inconvenience. Sexy peas in a pod– each of them stacked with a woman’s curves by the age of sixteen. And the oldest girls so close in age that they were invariably mistaken for twins while their mom was assumed to be their older sister. So the question of paternity, shared or otherwise, was never very clear.

Cherie did her best, but the girls grew up without any real masculine influence or paternal discipline. So when Sophia met me, a man a little older than her and much more experienced, she was easy prey. A lifetime’s missed opportunity to be a daddy’s girl, to appeal and suplicate to a strong male all came to the surface at once.

So, never having known corporal punishment, that first experience of taking down her pants and watching me withdraw my belt from around my waist before bending her over my knee was especially formative. She squirted pussy juice like a fountain with only the third lash of my belt against her plump and jiggling buttocks. It was as if I’d sliced through a water balloon. And she was incoherent with arousal and shame and confusion.

I calmed her down by having her kneel on the ground with her hands flat on the floor. I stood in front of her letting her suckle the crown of my swollen cock while I gently rested my feet on top of her hands preventing her escape. Then I lashed her out thrust behind. It was incredible to watch her squirm through a series of wetter and wetter girl-cums as her ass reddened and swelled under my dancing belt. A puddle of her juices spread out from her groin as she gulped tiressly at my hog. Panting and groaning around the fuck pacifier she kept trying to swallow deeper into her throat. I eventually stopped belting her and grasped her head in both hands and started thrusting against her glottis. Drool and slime dropped down across her big titties to the floor and mixed with the patch of girl slime that her pussy had steadily coughed out in response to my belt’s ministrations. When I came it was so heavily that she could only choke down part of my load. The rest fell to the floor. I stumbled back to catch my breath.

She looked up at me, caked in our effluvium, her eyes like a dog we’d had when I was a kid. Total love and dependence. Admiration and adoration. Her hands were to her tits gathering gobbets of my jizz to scoop back into her lips. She looked like a woman at prayer.

Then she leaned forward and began to eat my spunk off the floor without hesitation. I looked at the raised rounded peaks of her buttocks, lewdly pointed at the ceiling as she debased herself at my feet without word of instruction. Was it any wonder my cock resurrected itself so rapidly?

She looked up at me, at my spit and semen glazed spear, without taking her tongue from the floor, and she shuddered involuntarily. Then the cleft of her raised buttocks spread wider as she opened her knees against the floor. I strode around behind her and contemplated the welts and bruises that had caused her to cum like a geyser.

She didn’t look back at me, but remained hunched against the ground open and presented for me to mount and pummel. “Papi, please don’t be gentle, your bitch wants to be sure she never forgets her place again.” I looked at the padlock she’d felt compelled to adorn herself with, the symbol of my total ownership of her body and soul. She quivered as I advanced on her, actually moaning as I answered her, “Don’t worry cunt, Daddy is going to be merciless.”

From that point forward I’d still had need to seek recourse in other side-pussy to drain my nuts. But it was always with the other understanding that when she had the fortitude and endurance she was going to be my number one. My woman. I’d been proud of her progress as our relationship grew over her freshman year, and as I prepared for graduation it was more and more clear that she was the one for me. So I’d married her. Taken her off birth control, knocked her up, taken her out of school to play housewife for a while. And expected to spend the rest of our lives together.

But now, hilted in my spouse’s rectum, I could hear her sincere anxiety about fulfilling her duties as my cumdump.

“What are you saying babybitch?” I stirred her insides again with gusto, making her squeal and wriggle. “Are you saying you won’t take take care of daddy?”

Now she froze, wrenching her head back around to look at me, all playfulness gone.

“NO! Of course not. I know my job.” Here she squeezed her ass muscles tight, wincing at the feeling of fullness. Her eyelids fluttered. “It’s wanting to take care or you. To satisfy you.” She hunched forward again and I thrust into her again for a few moments so that her fists clenched in the sheets and she grunted with a sound like someone trying to start a small engine. I stilled my roiling hips and her breathing calmed.

“We know that I’ll be busy with the baby, and it will take some time for things to get back to normal. I want to be sure that Daddy has a side-slut to use whenever and however he wants. Just like he uses his favorite buttbitch, his wifeyholes.”

Now I held still, this was surprising, I had, in fact, been concerned about what I would need to do to handle my needs. Sophia’s pregnancy had only increased my ardor. Now it was easily 8 times daily that I was having to drain my groin in order to be comfortable and focused. With my new job and studying for the LSATs I certainly didn’t feel like I’d have time for random hookups to take care of things like I had in college. Not if I wanted to be around for the baby as well.

“What did you have in mind love?” I tweaked her nipple gently but kept my dick’s movement to a minimum, letting her clear her head to express herself without too much dickstraction. She leaned back against me, seating my shaft even more firmly in the clutch of her distended rectum.

“Well, um, actually, it’s something mom suggested.” My cock gave an involuntary pulse, and Sophia breathed out a little snicker. We joked not infrequently about how I wanted to bang her mom, who while, being more than a decade older than me, was at 35, still a red-hot piece of ass. A definite “swipe-right.” And she had the biggest jugs of all when compared with her three daughters, as well as the fullest and curviest derrière. Sophia never seemed bothered by this, even asking me if I’d at least copped a feel on her mom when I’d danced with my mother in law at our wedding. Now my cock had given away some of my feelings without my meaning to.

“Oh baby Im sorry, I didn’t mean mom would be your side-slut. Again she clenched her ass. As though trying to focus my attention. “She’s busy with work and with Sylvie, she’s not up to the task. But…”

I waited, she spiraled her hips back against my thighs.

“She suggested that we should have Simone move in with us. And that my sister can be your side-bitch now that she’s turned 18. What do you think?” She seemed hesitant all of a sudden, nervous or unsure, “Would that be acceptable to daddy? If mommy and I gave him my younger sister as his new whore?”