The Cum Dump

I will tell you of how I met Angela, my new best friend. She has an interesting story to tell and I was ultimately able to pry it from her. It is worth repeating, and so I tell it to you here on these pages. I am sure that she would not mind.

A few months ago my 20 year old step-son entered our home along with a woman whom I had never seen him with before. Her age I would place closer to 30 than to 20, and therefore I was curious as to who she was. She was a blonde with shoulder length hair, and she was very attractive with a slender girlish shape. Of medium height with long legs, she had a small but well-rounded tush and perky breasts I would take for a size B. While she had the look of innocence about her, her attire suggested otherwise, dressed in a tight petite black leather skirt above the knees and a low cut top without a bra. She smiled meekly towards me when she spied me sitting in the living room, and lowered her eyes as if in shame. I knew that I recognized her from somewhere but could not immediately place the face. Matt gave me a quick hello and equally quickly rushed the woman up the stairs to his room, her spike heels clicking on the floor as she rushed by me.

I was surprised to hear how quickly the bed frame began to knock against the bedroom wall. Quite the girl I thought. I was equally surprised by how soon it stopped. Losing his edge I thought. Soon the happy couple were back down the steps and at the front door. Seeing her standing there it came to me where I had seen her before. She was a regular at church, typically seated between her husband and her father. I knew her father well, and knew him to be a strict and firm man. Her behaviour upstairs therefore surprised me a great deal. As Matt opened the door I rose up and asked "Matt, must you be going so soon after just arriving home?" I inquired.

"Gotta go mom, ball practise, can't be late." He replied.

"And does your new friend need to leave so soon as well, or can she stay a while?" Matt just shrugged his shoulders as she tried to make an excuse to go, but grasping her by her arm I insisted "Please, stay for a while, I always try to become better acquainted with Matt's new friends." At this Matt was out the door, leaving the poor girl standing with me, blushing and clearly ashamed of her recent performance. "Sit dear." I further insisted, and sat her on the love seat across from the sofa I was sitting on. "Are you not the daughter of Mr. Jacobs?" I inquired. "And the wife of that nice young man that sits beside you at church?" I asked. She nodded her head meekly while staring at her feet, unable to look me in the eyes.

Touching her chin I pulled her face up to mine. "Look at me child." I insisted further. "Look at me when I speak to you directly." She nodded softly as her wet eyes stared into mine. "I know your father to be a good man, a man of God. And your husband appears to be a handsome enough fellow. So tell me, why were you just fucking my son?" I jabbed accusingly. Her eyes fell back to her feet but seizing her by her hair I forced her face back in alignment with my own. "Tell me your name now, and why you just fucked my son, or I will march right over to your father's house and tell him what I know!"

With this threat tears started streaming from her eyes and she could only mutter "I am so ashamed, so humiliated. Please don't tell my father, I will tell you anything, I will do anything. Please." Finally, we were getting somewhere. I released the girl and calmed her down with a few drinks, and then let her tell me her story.

She said that her name was Angela, and she explained how her husband had converted her from a timid virgin at the age of 18 into the "cum dump" (her words, not mine) I now saw before me now. She began to explain her life and situation to me - Growing up I had a very domineering and controlling father, and this resulted in my being a meek and nervous virgin to the age of 18. In fact, on completely high school, I had never kissed a boy and dressed in an overly conservative manner, which ensured that no boys ever took an interest in me. On attending college I was fortunate to meet with some great girls who helped me come out of my shell a bit, taught me to wear make-up and dress a bit more tantalizingly, and most importantly, introduced me to boys at the local parties. At one of the parties I met the boy who was ultimately to become my husband.

Paul was a few years older than myself, tall charismatic, and very handsome. He paid me attention at the party after being introduced by a mutual friend, and I fell for him instantly. Embarrassingly, having had a few drinks and being infatuated with Paul at first sight, I made out with him on the back deck swing that very night. I even permitted him to go a bit further, despite my better judgement and the lifelong warnings of my father that all boys only wanted one thing. We kissed deeply and then he slipped his tongue into my mouth. I eagerly accepted his warmth and did not even flinch when he placed his hand upon my bare knee, showing under my summer dress. I gasped but still did not resist when he placed his hand on top of my breast and began to caress my flesh through my top and bra. Only when he attempted to slide his hand up my leg did I insist he stop. Aware of the limits I imposed and being a gentlemen he did not attempt to go any further again, and the rest of the night we spent in each other's arms, kissing and fondling. After this first night together we were forever inseparable afterward.

I soon confessed to Paul that I was a virgin, and had in fact never been with a man before in any manner. I described my father's strict religious upbringing, his strongly domineering and overly controlling nature, and how he would never let me leave the house to meet with friends after school throughout all of high school. I told Paul how I had become a book worm, and how I had always been very shy and reserved around boys. Surprising me, Paul said that my innocence and purity turned him on deeply, and that he loved that he would be the first man in my life. I explained that we could share some aspects of our love, but that I wanted to save myself for marriage. He accepted my conditions, but also placed his own conditions and expectations on our relationship. He said that I would have to be prepared to explore our sexuality together in ever regard short of intercourse, to trust him, and to obey his commands without question. I was actually very excited by his terms, having fantasized about being controlled sexually by a man, and agreed to them eagerly.

Paul was gentle and slow, letting me learn and explore my sensual desires at my own pace. In time I offered him my breasts, which he caressed and sucked upon so lovingly that I would beg for more. He asked me if I was wet between my legs and embarrassing I admitted that I was. He said that I should play with myself then as he fondled my breasts and kissed my lips, and that he would play with himself as well. I laid back upon the bed, resting my head on a soft pillow and leaving my bare breasts exposed for his enjoyment. Sliding my hand under my dress I began to touch myself beneath my panties while Paul played with my nipples and pulling his pants off began to stroke his stiff penis where I could watch. I had never seen a real one before and found it to be a fascinating object. He noticed the intensity of my staring at his crotch and moved upward so that I could see his full penis more easily.

"Do you like looking at my penis?" Paul asked.

"Yes Paul," I mumbled, "very much so." I shyly responded.

Paul kneeled beside me so that I could get a better view and I watched eagerly as he pumped his meaty rod, all red and enflamed. He positioned this amazing object only a foot or so from my face and he said that he could not wait until the day came that he could train me how to suck upon it and please him with my mouth. The appearance of this engorged penis and the naughtiness of his words made me feel both very dirty and aroused and I began to rub my clit more furiously under my dress.

"I want to be the perfect wife for you, my lover." I confessed. "I want you to train me to be the ideal sexual woman for you." I offered.

"You agree to be trained as my sexual toy, to let me use you in any way I please, to order you to act out every sexual fantasy I have?" Paul inquired, deeply curious now.

"My church and my father raised me to be submissive and obedient to my man and husband. In time, you can train me to perform any sexual act you wish, and to obey any sexual command you give. I promise to be a submissive lover, to obey every order, and submit myself sexually to your every fantasy."

Of course I was still very naïve at this time and had no understanding of how perverse men's fantasies can actually be. At the time it all seemed innocent enough. But it was with these words, I would later come to recognize, that I had sealed my own fate.

Paul saw me more frantically rub myself under my dress and, gentleman that he was, asked if he could raise my dress and see my legs as I played with my wet little pussy. Spreading my legs wider for him as a sign of my consent, he pulled up my dress until it rested on my belly. He stroked the soft flesh of my inner thighs as he watched me continue to rub myself under my panties. He attempted to get his fingers under my panties and raise them to see and touch the flesh of my vagina, but slapping his hand I deprived him of this adventure so early in our relationship. Forced to content himself with stroking my bare legs, looking at my panty covered vagina, squeezing my breasts and stroking himself, he was soon ready to ejaculate.

"Can I cum on your tits baby, God please let me cum on your gorgeous soft tits?" Paul moaned.

I had never seen a man ejaculate and was excited by the idea.

"Oh yes darling," I gasped, "cum on my breasts baby, please spurt on my tits."

The sight of his white thick semen shooting from the end of his penis and splashing over my boobs caused me to also orgasm and I let out a long loud cry. Lying beside me we shared an intimate kiss and cradled in his arms he asked if he could lick clean the fingers that I used to rub my precious little pussy. I said to him "What a truly naughty boy you are!" as I offered him the fingers to suck upon.

"You have no idea of the naughty plans I have for you." He calmly said. I giggled in response. I really did not have any idea at the time of the extremes he had already planned to take me to.

Well, as you can soon imagine, with my young female hormone's coursing through my veins, Paul soon had my panties off and was viewing, fingering and licking my vagina. He taught me how to suck his penis and even convinced me to begin to swallow his cum. I loved to perform what he called the 69 position, spreading my legs and offering my vagina to his mouth as I feasted upon his hard young rigid penis, or cock, as he taught me to call it. And in time, within only a couple of months in fact, I denied my own wish to save myself for marriage, and freely offered him entry into my vagina.

Upon our having intercourse, I found that I simply could not get enough. So glad to have not saved myself, I found myself wanting it continually, and was often shocked by how openly I offered myself to Paul. I would spread my legs freely as the slightest opportunity presented itself - at his dorm room if his roommate stepped out, in the college library hidden behind a bookshelf, in a stairwell late at night, and in my own dorm room the moment he had locked the door behind him. Lifting my skirt and pulling off my panties even before he entered the room I would prop myself up onto my desk with my dress pulled over my hips and leaning back with my legs spread wide to show him the wet and available lips of my vagina I would beg "Paul, please, quickly, enter me."

"It is called fucking." Paul announced.

"Pardon me?" I inquired.

"When we have intercourse slowly, passionately and for a long time, that is love making. But when we just have quick furious intercourse anywhere that is called fucking."

Having had it so clearly explained to me I heard myself cry out "Then fuck me Paul, for Christ sakes boy, just fuck me!"

I introduced Paul to my family, and they freely welcomed him, but of course insisted that he had his own room when he slept over. I told my father that I was a good girl and that we had both agreed to save ourselves for marriage. My father kissed my forehead and said that he was proud of me and knew that he had raised a good daughter. Of course, knowing of my own deception, that just made me feel like a tramp. Especially after dad and mom went shopping and Paul and I were quickly undressed and using the time available to fuck ourselves silly in every room of the house. He fucked me on the bed I had slept in since I was a little girl. On my parent's bed he fucked me on all fours with my butt thrust high in the air ready to receive him. He fucked me sitting on the kitchen counter my mother spends most of her day at and over our dining room table we all eat at. I mounted Paul and fucked him on top of the sofa my mother knits on, and he fucked me as I sat with my legs spread apart on my father's favorite leather chair.

When Paul came hard into my pussy on the chair, his semen and my vaginal fluids ran out of my twat and down the leather of my father's chair. Looking down I thought to myself "My lover has just fucked the wet horny pussy of my Father's precious daughter and ejaculated into her welcoming vagina, and now our juices are running all over the old man's prized leather chair." I thought on all those years of my father's dominance, his displays of controlling anger, and his strict orders and demands for a submissive and obedient family. Well, now I had another man who I would obey unquestioningly, and serve willingly as his submissive girl. Little did my father understand that all his years of abuse had in effect only trained me to assume the role of an obedient fuck-toy for another controlling man. And equally, as I was yet to understand, to also willingly assume the role of an obedient cum dump.

I had let Paul dump his load of cum in my pussy, willingly, freely, wanting my pussy filled with his love. I watched as his cum leaked out of my pussy and ran down the length of my father's seat. Paul offered to quickly clean it up but I said "No, let it dry on his precious leather. Let the old bastard sit in our love making. I am done with him now. I am obedient now only to you. Yours to fuck as you please, yours to command as you wish, to order to perform any sexual fetish or fantasy you have. I was his submissive bitch for 18 years. Now I am yours." With that I gave him a deep kiss, got onto my knees, and sucked his cock clean of our loving making, getting him hard again so that Paul could stick his dick back into my Father's precious little daughter's dirty horny wet cunt, bent over his favorite chair, spread wide and willing and begging for more cock.

Afterward I felt that I had earned my freedom from my Father's overly controlling nature and henceforth I freely turned control of my body over to Paul. I welcomed his notions on how to explore my sensuality and sexual adventurism further. Paul began to insist that I wore provocative clothing when we went out to social events, exchanging my long conservative patterned dresses for short leather skirts, push up bras and high heels. I began to wear more make-up and let me hair grow out. Paul would escort me in his arm down the street or to parties and comment on how all the men were gawking at my boobs and butt. I felt ashamed, but Paul said that it turned him on deeply to have men want me, and he would even often jerk off later onto my face, boobs, or bush remembering how the men stared at my body. As this was clearly a turn on to him, I did not resist his demands and tried to conceal my own humiliation and shame at being regarded by men I did not even know as a piece of meat to just have sex with. Who am I kidding. By this time, the truth is, I was beyond the ability to resist Paul's demands. Trained by my father to be submissive, meek and obedient, I found myself a virtual slave to Paul, clinging on his every word, executing his every order.

Paul took me to fabulous parties where I met many exciting people, and Paul showed no jealously when his friends would try to flirt with me. In fact, Paul seemed to enjoy their paying me attention, and Paul would grope my boobs, rub my bare legs or slap my butt in their presence as a way to goad them on. He also insisted that I participate in slow dances with them. As the evenings would wear on some of the men would ultimately try to take advantage of their situation during the dances and put their hands on my butt, fondle a breast or try to give me a kiss. I would look at Paul but he would just stand there smiling. Afterward I would complain of his friend's actions but he would say that they were just having fun and that I should accommodate them. He even suggested that I encourage them. "Kiss them back." Paul said "Or even kiss them first! Let them grope your ass and tits, or even better, put their hand on your body first and while nibbling on their ear tell them that you want them!"

Paul explained that he was super turned on by watching other men touch me and wanted to see more, so that he could jerk off on my body later than night recalling how they enjoyed feeling me up. I obeyed my lover, regardless of my personal feelings, and soon found myself letting his friends kiss me upon the lips, rub their hands over my bum and bare legs, and even let them caress and fondle my breasts. While dancing with me, sitting beside me on a couch when Paul was away, or pinning me against a wall with a little privacy, his friends, as well as strangers to me, came to see me as easy prey. They would place their hands on my hips, give me a long kiss, grope and feel my hips and ass, then insert a hand between my legs and run their fingers up my bare flesh until they were touching my moist panties. I would offer no resistance and upon their request would spread my legs wider or unbutton my blouse to expose more of my cleavage. Often I could see Paul watching us from a distance, enjoying the show as his friend or some stranger felt up his girlfriend. It seemed to turn him on terribly as I could see his rock hard penis jutting through his pants, and later than night he would fuck me hard and deep and long as I recounted to him each man I had been with and the particulars of what I had let them do with me.

As the summer months moved on I began to worry about how this party situation might evolve, but then with September we were all back in school focusing on our studies and the parties slowed down, to my relief. Paul told me that he had taken a townhouse with three others and while I was excited that we would now have a place with more freedom and opportunity than the small dorm rooms to enjoy each other's bodies, I was a bit shocked on my first visit to the townhouse and met his new roommates. They were each a boy who had taken liberties with me during the various parties. I shyly looked down when I met them, but Paul told me not to be so timid, to be proud of my body, and to enjoy the attention given to me by men. Paul also insisted now that when I visited him and when we went out together than I dressed ever more revealingly, to the point, I would say, of appearing slutty. He insisted I buy only truly short and tight skirts, wear stiletto heels, no panties or bra and wear tops that barely covered my breasts. In the evenings at his townhouse I was only to wear negligee from a particularly revealing selection that he had chosen for me.

As I strutted around his place in my slutty little outfits Paul's friends would glare at my exposed flesh, like starving dogs at fresh meat, and the more I protested to Paul, the more he seemed to enjoy the situation. When evening came and everyone was relaxing with drinks, the boys would maul and grope me when Paul left the room. I would complain to Paul later of their behaviour but he only laughed. Once, upon re-entering the room and finding his one friend with his tongue in my mouth and a hand pawing at my boob through my lace nightie, rather than get upset, Paul encouraged the boys by saying that I had admitted to him how I liked them touching me when Paul was out of the room. This simply opened the flood gates and all the boys, including Paul, would grab my tits, my ass and my bare snatch as they pleased. Laying in Paul's arms on the couch Paul would lower the top of my negligee or raise up its skirt, revealing my boobs, butt and bush to his friends full view. Paul ordered me to accommodate and entertain the boys. I hesitantly obeyed, feeling humiliated and trashy by my obviously being no more than a simple sex toy for this room full of horny young men. I no longer resisted, and let each one play with my breasts, grab my tush, and even rub my wet pussy as they pleased. With my breasts hanging bear from my teddy, I would fetch the boys fresh beers, and would be rewarded each time with a "Thanks doll!" and either a squeeze of my hanging breast or a quick little spank on my bare butt.