Victoria Dean, or am I still Victoria Angel? I used to be Victoria Angel, but it’s been five years since then. Am I really going to do this? God, I want this: Larry’s cock. Not Trent's cock any more; I want Larry’s cock. I want to be here, naked in front of Larry, with Larry naked with me. I do want it.

I'm laying here with him, ready to fuck me. Fuck me! Yes, fuck me. I love to feel his hands on my breasts, pulling on my nipples. His weight is on me; I can feel his cock teasing at the entrance to my vagina, just teasing.

******************

What the hell? That’s my alarm.

I opened my eyes, and I was alone, but I could feel that the sheet was wet. It was another dream. If it’d lasted just a minute longer, I’d have felt what Larry’s cock felt like in my vagina. I moved away from the wet spot, hugged my pillow, and tried to relax.

“Victoria, it’s been two years since my divorce. Am I ready to be involved with another man? One that could be another asshole?”

Victoria, you have to quit talking to yourself out loud. One of these days, someone will hear you.

I got up and got ready for work, and on the way, I kept arguing with myself. Yes? No? Maybe? He’s tried to get me to dinner for months without much pretense. My dreams aren’t just made up; Larry has made it clear what he wants.

What I can do is invite him to lunch; we’ve done that before, and I can decide then. I went to work relieved that I could put off making a decision.

When we went to lunch, we went to Marsella’s, a semi-Italian place we’d been to before. This time, though, he gave me a much more thorough kiss before we went in. I could feel the tingling of arousal as we entered, and when we left, I’d accepted a dinner date for Friday evening. He’d acted like I’d agreed to meet him for dinner and afterward too. I knew what dinner with him meant; I’d agreed to let him fuck me.

Back at work, I could relax because there were no decisions left for me to make. We were going to make my dreams real, and it was going to happen tomorrow night. I was going to know what it felt like to have his cock in me. I was going to feel him come in me!

That night I spent an inordinate amount of time getting ready for him, trimming, shaving, and plucking. I wanted to just feel sexy for him. I’d even dropped by the mall and my namesake intimate store for some special panties just for him. Indeed, they were a secret for just Larry and me.

Dinner was notable mostly because of the tension I felt. I wanted to get to what tonight was really about. I wanted to submit to Larry; I wanted to be fucked by Larry.

There was kissing when he picked me up; he held my breasts before we left, but it was just teasing and not nearly enough.

I’m going to do it. Trent called me Miss Prim and Proper; this is my first chance to prove him wrong. Anything he wants, he can do. I’ll show Trent.

“Do you want me to take you home?” He paused before continuing, “Um, or to my house?” He was looking at me for an answer.

I sat there before deciding, “Your house, Larry, your house. Um, I know what you want. Well, so do I.” I hesitated, then, in a rush, I said, “You can have anything you want. Well, almost anything. But I’m yours all weekend. Um, if you want.” I looked at Larry, picturing him naked, and picturing myself naked in front of him.

Yes, I want him. I want him to drive Trent's prim and proper comments out of my head.

I bent over the consul between us and kissed him, taking his right hand and placing it on my breast. He left it there while he started the car and started toward his house.

Is the real thing going to be as erotic as my dreams?

When we got there, Larry led me inside, and he hesitated before kissing me. This was a kiss. Passionate, demanding, and erotic were understatements of what it was like. I could feel my breasts pressing against his chest, and his erection felt wonderful. He had one hand touching my face, exploring. His other hand was unbuttoning. the top button of my blouse.

When he had the first three buttons undone—I knew because I was counting them—he slipped his hand inside my blouse and touched my breasts, pulling the cups down to touch my nipples.

“Yes, god, yes. That feels wonderful.” I could barely speak. “Caress my breasts, Larry, please.”

His response was, “Your tits? Tell me you want me to caress your tits.”

My tits? I’d never called them tits. Breasts, boobs among the girls, but never tits even to Trent. My tits. I looked at him, wondering. Could I do it? Call them my tits? That was for nasty women; they had tits. I didn’t. 

“Please caress my tits and my nipples. Play with them. I want … I want. I don’t know what I want. I want what you want.”

I felt the words sink into my brain. I could do it. Tits. Tits. I have tits; does that make me a nasty woman? Am I a nasty woman? Did I actually call them tits?

He had to hold me up. My legs were wobbly, and my tits were burning with need. I’d never felt this aroused. I was a nasty woman with my tits—yes, my tits. They were in my lover's hands, and they needed more. More touching, harder touching—they needed more.

Larry had to help me into his bedroom; my knees were too weak. He sat me on the edge of his bed, sitting upright. He finished unbuttoning my blouse and slipped it off. He was looking at my breasts—no, my tits. He was looking at my tits with my bra pulled down, partially undressed. I felt wanton letting him see me like that.

He reached behind me and, with one simple motion, unfastened my bra, and it slid further down. Exposing my tits even more to him. I could feel the tension throughout my entire body as he was just looking at me. Especially in my vagina. I could feel the moisture seeping out onto my thighs.

I reached out to him, attempting to pull him down, but he resisted. I felt him unbutton the top of my pants and unzip them.

I reached for him, pulled his shirt off, and then did the same to him. “Larry, I want to see you, all of you. I want to see … “ I stopped talking because I wasn’t sure I could say the word, and penis just wasn't right. I took a breath and finished saying, “I want to see your cock. I want to see the cock that’s going to be fucking me.”

I could hardly believe I’d been able to say that. I’d said it, and I’d meant it. I’d seen it in my dreams, and now it was time to find out if the reality matched my dreams.

When I pulled his pants and boxers down, I could tell it more than matched my dreams. I’d never pictured one as threatening as what I saw.

Trent was right. I was prim and proper; I’d never imagined it could be like this. This was scary, dangerous, and arousing. I loved it. I was going to be different going forward.

He pushed me back onto the bed, and then he pulled my pants and panties off. I was completely naked and exposed to him. I could feel myself tremble as he put one breast—no, not breast, tit. He put one tit in his mouth, sucked on it, and then nipped at it. When he reached between my legs and caressed my clitoris, I exploded with spasms and screams. It was the strongest reaction I’d ever had.

I saw his satisfied smile as I slowly relaxed, and he started over. I was reaching for his cock, but he insisted on continuing his torture of me. As I felt my climax, I was finally able to get ahold of his cock and get it inside me. He started moving inside gently at first, then more and more insistently until I felt my climax roll over me. This time I could feel him tense, and he yelled, “I’m coming. Now!” His cock twitched, and then he collapsed on me.

That was so awesome. I couldn’t move for a minute. He shifted, and I felt his cock pull out, and I closed my eyes, trying to recapture all the sensations I felt. “Larry, I’m going to want that again; that was wonderful.” As I said that, I cuddled up to Larry, kissing him. I reached down to my pussy and I could feel the last part of ejaculation on the outside. I cleaned it off with my finger and sucked it off. I loved the taste.

After Larry and I made love a few times, I wanted more. I wanted to be rid of the prim and proper Victoria. Completely rid of her. I was too embarrassed to talk to Larry about it, but then I remembered Joel. He wasn’t a friend of either Trent or me. But some of the other wives talked about him.

He had a reputation. One that might work. Betty had let slip that she had a, what she’d called a gang-bang, with him arranging it. If I understood it, there were five or six men, and they fucked her one by one and in groups until she couldn’t take any more.

Depraved, wanton, shameless, and slutty—that was exactly what I wanted. I couldn’t approach Larry about that. I worked with him, and I didn’t want to lose his respect, but Joel I didn’t care about. It took several weeks before I got enough nerve to call Betty and get his number. Even then, it took a couple more weeks before I could call him.

When I finally called, I had some problems talking. “Is this Joel?” When he said yes, I continued, "I was talking to, um, Betty Howell, and she said," I hesitated.

He replied, “Ok, I’ve met her. What.” He seemed short, and I almost hung up then.

“Ah, she said that you arranged, um, you and about five other men, ah, fucked her? Is that right?”

He didn’t answer; instead, he asked me for my name. “Just give me your name, and I’ll call you back.” I couldn’t understand what that was about, but I told him. When he hung up, I was thinking being slutty was more work than I imagined.

About twenty minutes later, I got a phone call from Joel: "Hi, this is Joel; you’re Victoria? You were asking me, What?”

“Um, you did Betty in a gang-bang? Is that right?” I was dying as I said that. But I got it out.

“I remember that, about a year ago, or was it two years ago? You’re interested in experiencing it. Is that right?" He finished with a chuckle. “I have some friends that enjoy it. How many men are you thinking of? I’ve had women attempt ten, but none of them were able to finish.”

I have to decide how many. Ten was to much. I told him, "Um, five or six, maybe. Is that enough?"

“That’s plenty for most women.” He said, “Sex, regular sex? Air tight too. Can we cum on you?”

Was it worth it? And what the hell is air tight? Coming on me too? I hadn’t thought about it. What am I getting into?

When Joel explained airtight, I answered, “Yes. Yes.Yes. And yes."

I’m actually going to do this. If anything will get rid of prim and proper, this will! I wonder if this is one of those things that it’s more fun to have done than do.

It took two weeks to arrange, and that was all I could think about.

When I was entering the Royal Hotel, I was trembling with a combination of anticipation and terror at what I’d agreed to. When I signed in for my room, I could barely write my name. As I went up, I texted Joel what my room number was. Inside, I took a shower before the gang showed up.and dressed in a robe, and waited for them to show up.

Joel was the first to show, followed by Phil and Evan together. And then Casey, Brent, and Trevor came about five minutes later. I was hyperventilating by the time Trevor showed up. They were all beautiful specimens of men—tall, powerfully built, and good-looking. Casey was black, which somehow I wasn’t expecting. He’d be the first black man I’d ever had. It didn’t matter; he looked more than capable of doing me.

Am I going to be able to satisfy all six men? I hope so. I’d committed to trying to do my best. All I could do now was depend on Joel’s leadership. 

I looked at the guys. “God, I don’t know what to say to so many sexy guys, and I don’t know how to start this.” I almost whispered. I took a second and said a little more forcibly, “I’ve wanted to be … hell, I want to know what it's like to have several guys make love to me. “ I hesitated again and continued, “That’s not right. I want several guys to fuck me, to screw me. I want you to take me.”

I looked at Joel and said, “God, then he asked me: Do I want regular sex? Do I want to be fucked airtight? Could you cum on me? My answer was yes, yes, yes, and yes to almost anything else you want to do. Um, I’m not into pain or scat. Those are my main hard limits.

“I am only wearing this robe, so you guys are way overdressed.”

Did I really say that? Victoria Angel Dean said, airtight? I told six guys they could cum on me. This is so far out of my comfort zone, I can’t believe it. But, I said it, and I meant it.

I could feel my breasts tighten and my nipples get more sensitive against the fabric of my robe. I wanted it to start. I wanted them to start. I actually wanted them to take me.

Come on; there are six of you here. One of you start it.

I laid back on the bed and let my robe fall open, exposing my breasts.  No, my tits; men like tits. My tits and my pussy were exposed to them, inviting them.

Casey was the first one to move; he was undressed and was pulling my robe more open, and he was kissing me with his hands on my tits.

"Yes, Casey, I want you to be first. Make love to me, and then fuck me.” His cock was darker than the rest of his skin, and I wanted to see his cock in me. I wanted his cock to be the first one in me.

When one of the other men started caressing my mound, all I could say was, “Yes, yes. My pussy.” Then there were three, and I lost control. I had no idea who was doing what except Casey; I never lost my connection to Casey. I looked at the guy that was by my head, and I told him I wanted him next after Casey came in me. 

I came, and then Casey was able to get his cock in my pussy and it felt wonderful. It was even better when I felt him come in me. Casey moved aside, and I could feel the new guy kissing my tits, and then he put his cock in my pussy. When he came, I could feel some of his cum leaking out. I was losing track of who was who and whose cock was in me.

As each man took me, I continually felt some of their cum leak out of me. I was feeling degraded and so depraved by the end; it was the feeling I wanted. I knew this wasn’t the end; they were going to come on me—all six of them—and I wanted to be fucked airtight. When Joel told me about it, I knew I had to have that too.

It was a couple of hours later that Joel arranged for three of them to get me airtight. Joel was in my ass, Brent was in my pussy, and Evan was taking my mouth. I was so overwhelmed that the rest happened, like in a dream, to someone else. They took turns coming on me one by one. On my face, on my tits, and on my pussy.

I’m not sure, but I think I remember them giving me a shower and cleaning me up before they left.

I can go back to Larry now that I am no longer Miss Prim and Proper. I'm Victoria Angel Dean. No, I’m not Dean any more; I’m Victoria Angel.

I’m Victoria Fallen Angel.