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Carnal Carnival

Elegant woman finds her freedom in the most unexpected of nights.

Carnal Carnival

Her slender legs were now accelerating beyond her regular pace. If anyone saw her they would have thought that she was running away from something more so than she was jogging. The weather and her own memories had teamed up to batter her darkened silky hair with its humidity augmented perfume and pheromones releasing skin. If she was running away from her own thoughts, her body on the other hand yearned to be chased and it was saying so loudly, like the echoes generated by loud shrieks sent in the middle of a valley of curves, perfected by eons of female evolution and ripped by a lifetime of deistic sculpting.

Bonnie could remember a time when her life was mostly filled with joy. Before her twins got old enough to be in college; before her life had taken a sharp turn for the worse about a decade ago, when, on a morning not unlike this one, she came back home due to some emergency she no longer remembered only to find her husband, in their own nuptial bed, probing alternatively and methodically each holes of one of her dearest friends with his well-endowed member that she had since grown to hate.

Her jogging pace quickened, along with her now frantic breathing as she thought of what ensued. For the following decade her marriage had become a charade, a make-believe tableau of happily dysfunctional family where mum and dad had agreed to stay together for the good of the kids; at least until they were old enough to go to college. And that time had now come…

What she was truly running away from was the decision she knew she had to make now that the agreed upon ultimatum had been reached: the kids were going to college this fall. She mentally avoided the excruciating exercise to reminisce some more of her not-so-far-away youth. She smiled as she remembered a time when her body was the stuff of legends. She was far from a less beautiful now, but she no longer had the same confidence in her charms. In more ways than one she was more of a woman now than she was then. Back then she was petite and cute. Now she was the image of femininity and she was beautiful. She also delighted herself in remembering what a bad naughty girl she was. She recalled the time, before settling for her husband, when her promiscuity was only challenged by the amount of hard cocks willing to defile, in any way imaginable, this once nymphomaniac goddess now tamed by societal pressures of kids, friends, work and only-to-be-admired-“salope” etiquette.

For so long she had resorted to distractions in order to tunnel through her ring induced ordeal. The trips to her parents, the endless home renovation and decoration projects, the kids’ cloths shopping spree had all long lost their usual distractive functions. Even the frequent jogs had no more effects. If anything they were only adding to her list of problems. She noticed how more and more in-shape she was becoming and how men couldn’t keep their eyes off of her. Worse of all, for the past two years that she’s been running in the vicinity of a marathon a week, her libido had once again gone into overdrive, forcing her to have long bathing sessions where fingers and any object that resembled a phallus became the bringer of deliverance and flooding doom.

She pitied her current self. She decried her condition. But for once, in the last decade, one thing was different: now she could do something about it because the self-imposed moral barrier was now lifted. She stopped abruptly when she finally realized that she had gone too far, too fast overshooting the entrance of her house by half a kilometer. She turned back and remembered that there was something positive to look forward to the following day: the Carnival. She decided to postpone her decision to leave her make-believe husband until then. At least that’s what she told herself.

---

By that time now, Bonnie had been walking down the overly decorated, overly crowded sidewalks of the festive street where myriads of younger souls roamed and danced, shouted and drank. Already the music had reached decibel levels that were surely medically unadvised but healing for the soul. Exotic smells of foreign foods being grilled blocks away were mixing with not so faint scents of sweet elixirs that had the cunning properties of turning the prude into the frivolous.

The sun had giving up on illuminating away the follies of the many gathered to party. The last rays of that hot beautiful summer days were drawing a chameleon like sky that was quickly turning to the somber, the dark. Side by side lovers passed by, their eyes and mind lost in the innocence of youth; their raised hands, subjected to invisible forces, moving at the same cadence set by the intoxicating music, a growing public wave of welcomed carelessness.

The whole thing reminded Bonnie of what she had since lost. She thirsted for something he could no long provide. Something forbidden, something verboten, a sin of irreparable moral damage which would surely bring about the end of this boring, too long and too perfect cliché inspired slow drift into maturedome.

Bonnie felt eerily funny. She was somehow over the years become the odd one in the crowd. She was now the hottie whose age one couldn’t be sure was more than 36, alone, yet with an unchallenged beauty and a complexion evocative of the sky’s tint laid by recently retreated summer sun.

She had walked through the crowd with the idea of tiring herself out before deciding for a nice restaurant. After a few hundred meters of swimming through the flesh, she noticed them… A young couple kissing passionately without an inkling of care for the envious eyes watching them. Their hands were sensually contouring their lightly clothed bodies and their eyes only opened briefly, occasionally to get lost in the other’s growing lust.

Bonnie was transfixed by the sight of the kissing couple… the dare, the romanticism. The girls must have been so wet, Bonnie thought to herself, trying to justify her own growing wetness from just being witness to the near-erotic public display of affection.

The girl was the first to break kiss. Maybe she was starting to feel the growing number of curious eyes. Or maybe she was afraid to lose control in the middle of this carnival crowd. She rebuttoned a few knots from her partially opened top and disappeared into the crowd, dragging her lover by the hand.

Bonnie followed suite. She dove in the pile of dancing bodies where the couple had recently passed and tried to catch up with them. The music was getting louder and faster as she approached the center of the dancing circle. Bodies were rubbing against each other as they jumped up and down in unison. As she tried to find a path through, in the general direction that she had seen the kissing couple take, Bonnie got repeatedly groped on her generous bosom and ass. Surprisingly, even to herself, she liked it and it was turning her on in more ways than one.

She was reaching the fringe of the dancing mob when she caught a glimpse of the couple just in time before the disappeared again in a small alley in a quieter section of the street. She quickened her pace to follow them. As she distanced herself from the trembling subwoofers, she could finally hear herself think. “What are you doing Bonnie? Why are you following them?” There was not answer to the self-directed mental question because some ungodly process had shut down the logical part of her being. May be it was the fact that unconsciously she had already made her decision and her moral restrains along with the heavy coat of logic usually applied to it were now lifted. Or maybe she had been contaminated by the overall feeling of folly that had settled among the carnival attendees. Whatever it was, she liked the feeling of it and she didn’t want to let go.

What is there not to like when one’s pussy is soaking… When she turned into the street where she saw them go, she slowed down, by instinct. She slowly proceeded deeper into the dark alley. Faint repetitive sounds were coming from not too far away. She took a few more steps forward. In the dim light she thought she recognized some of their cloths on the floor, but she couldn’t be sure. She took a couple more steps forward…

She saw them, skin to skin, the tender flesh of the female body being pinned against the wall of the alley as if her lover was trying to fuse her to it with great effort. If Bonnie’s crouch was soaked before, now drips of her essence that could no longer be withheld by her carefully selected panty, were slowly making their way down her long thighs.

---

Bonnie’s leg of their own volition approached the couple in full coatus. She could now clearly make out the loud moans previously drowned by the incessant music and large nearby crowd. More exciting, she could clearly hear the distinctive auditive sequence of skin impacting against skin, fighting for increased friction.

Unlike in the mob-packed street a few minutes before, the couple had dispensed of us much clothes as the situation allowed. The belted jeans of the young stud was rattling repeatedly on the floor, still enlacing the ankles of its owners, serving more of a restraining function than that of a vestmental duty. The girlfriend was not to be undone with her hand size breast leading a skin perfect torso that was pushing her rolled back T-Shirt ever closer to her neck. Her soft naked thighs and calves were rubbing tenderly against her lover’s naked waste. Their tongues were swimming in their make-shift lake of warmth and saliva.

Bonnie’s legs, of their own will, took a few more steps forward. She was now so close she could feel their warmth. More tormenting she could inhale that sweet odor of the spring of life: Young lubricant scent emanating from the V shaped pit of their skin rapped cum flavored ice cream cone… Only deities know how long it had been. Only deities know how intoxicating that perfume was to her…

Slowly, the girlfriend broke the kiss as her head slowly tilted upwards to gaps for some air, to gather some much needed energy for the tsunami of feeling that was now eminent. Then it happened, Bonnie saw her face cringed in the most primal of expressions. Then the tension dissipated, leaving a stoic visage not unlike that of a drug addict that thanks the heavens, in a blissful moment of ecstasy, for creating a feeling that should not exist.

Experiencing the girlfriend climax had fueled Bonnie with whatever courage she needed. Her lips spoke before she had the time to think about it.
“I have been watching you…” said Bonnie in a soft unexpectedly sexually charge tone.

----

They both turned sharply, startled by the realization that someone was there watching them, an arm length away. After the initial fright, the couple was more relieved that their stalker was not a cop or some self-proclaimed moral police. Surely it was neither of the above because the woman in question had her cleavage out and a restless hand on a visible and now panty less crouch.

Bonnie was scared too, she had heard herself say those words, but she had no idea how they were going to react. For all she knew she had turned them off, or worst the stud was going to take out his frustration on her because she had interrupted him. They did neither. On the contrary Bonnie noticed that they were both staring at her voluptuous breasts and in the case of the boy, his transfixed gaze was accompanied by an increase in the cadence at which he was penetrating his breathless partner.

Bonnie took advantage of the newly discovered effects of her naked assets and unbuttoned the rest of her blouse, revealing the full splendor of her femininity, contoured by a functionally useless bra. She noticed that their eyes widened in awe and respect of her forms. Bonnie could have sworn she heard the girl moan as she was revealing more of herself.

“You can touch them if you want…” continued Bonnie as she got closer.

The girl fixed Bonnie in the eyes for a few seconds, unsure and still waiting an approval that had already been granted. Caringly, she then turned to her lover to seek the other half of the approval that never came because he was too busy himself. Too busy resisting the temptation of an offer that wasn’t directed to him, while at the same time being tortured by the soft tight and musky palettes of girlfriend’s womb. The girl waited no longer. The feeling of caressing those imposing soft breasts from a complete stranger, and a female stranger at that was well worth the potential jealousy of her hypnotized gesticulating lover. But above all the girl wanted to touch them at least before they got caught and this time by a less contributing party.

Bonnie noticed that boy was now panting even more rapidly as his generously girthed member was entering and exiting the sacred alley of the naturally tanned girlfriend, like a devout religious nut job bobbling his head in front of a wall whose responses only he could feel.

Even in the relative darkness, Bonnie could make out the outlines of his superb lower torso. The light creases gave way to a picturesque site of valleys and abs. Not to be undone, his half taut pecs and biceps only added to the torment of any onlooker, male or female, screaming without saying a word: “ Don’t fuck with me or I’ll rough you up or fuck you silly .” In Bonnie’s case, she wanted both.

Gradually, the sensual high pitch moans of the repeatedly perforated girlfriend were once again rising in volume and intensity. The girl’s hand was still groping and caressing Bonnie’s twin cleavage, undecided on which she liked better. Bonnie instantly recognized the lamenting song of the girl. She had heard it before. It was the tribal song of a woman lost in the place where one is closest to climaxing but is waiting for a trigger event that will show the path to salvation and free her from the hands of the torturous devilish daemons of pre-orgasm.

Bonnie didn’t miss a bit. She used her free right hand and returned the favor to her still unnamed breast massager. She started by touching the young tit that was the farthest away from her; caressing and contouring the wood like erect nipples, providing them with the attention that only someone of the same sex would have the expertise to.

The young stud quickened his pace.

That’s when she noticed it. The girth on the young lad’s penis certainly had to be the largest she had ever seen. Mentally she pulled out her portfolio of conquests from her earlier years and confirmed that it was either the largest or she had been out of business for so long that anything wider than three large fingers would look like a personal record to her. Never the less, she could no longer wait to see it in full and the mere thought of it, the impossible anticipation was now flooding her pussy buried fingers with uncalled for torrents of musky elixir.

Bonnie removed the hook shaped fingers of her left hand, locked in her pussy and placed those same viscous fingers on the girl’s clitoral area, rubbing the whole region in a tender slippery concentric motion.

The young early twenties boyfriend quickened his pace further on his early twenties girlfriend, obviously increasingly excited by the depraved audacity that Bonnie was showing. This time Bonnie couldn’t tell if it was because of the watering of his girlfriend’s slit, brought on by a mixture of her own juices and the girl’s fresh addition, or if it was because she had caressed the young man’s edible abs with the back of her hand on her way down to his girlfriend’s vagina. Maybe it was the fact that his crouch, every half a second, came crushing down the soft back side of this stranger’s hand. One thing Bonnie could tell with certainty was that the girl was now irreversibly closer to lifting off. She precipitated her ascent to near-public disgrace by licking and sucking the tip of her free breast, the one not being pinched groped and caressed by her right hand, the one that was being erratically jiggled in the air.

“Vincent!!! Oh!... Oh!... Vincent!!!” uttered the young girl unintelligibly. ” She is… She is lick… Oh!... I am CUMMING…”

Her screech was so loud that Bonnie and Vincent feared that they might be heard by some of the people shouting and dancing just around the corner, a stone throw away.

------------

When Vincent finally pulled out, the girlfriend dropped exhausted and out of breath to the ground. She was still struggling to breath. With her hair in partial disarray and in a pose indicative of the fact that all limbs had been drained of any hint of vigor, she would have looked like she had been mauled by the two somber figures standing over her.

Vincent too was still panting heavily. Bonnie’s gaze, locked on his affable upper features, then it drifted downwards past the chest and torso that she had already memorized. Where her gaze froze, was on the erect manhood of the young stud. A statue awkwardly pointing skyward with an object that belonged in a museum more so than it did in the wild.

The same object had just been defiled by an ignorant young girl who didn’t know how to use it and now evidence of her crime was glistening and shimmering all over it for all to see. This was unacceptable! It had to be cleaned. It had to be cleaned before it could be used again…

Vincent was about to start stroking his member with his eyes fixed on Bonnie’s chimeric forms when Bonnie quickly dropped to her knees, quicker than he ever through possible. She then murmured loud enough for him to hear with a tone of a she-daemon: “Let me help you.”

What ensued was more graphic than it was intended to aid the situation. Bonnie wasn’t really helping and she knew that very well. In fact if anything she added to the problem.

When she finally stopped sucking, right before Vincent started to lose control, his cock was now coated with layers of lewd mixtures of his girlfriend’s cum and the viscous saliva coming from the depths of Bonnie’s throat. How she was even able to shove down his rigid, girth gifted, heavy dick down her throat is beyond her. Somehow she still had some skills. Also, she was back in control and she had him right where she wanted him in that place where he would be willing to do anything, anything just to get that impending orgasmic pressure off. Or at least she was convinced that he would.

Bonnie didn’t waste another second. She stood up and in a continuous motion, leaned forward against the nearby wooden fence, spread her legs, retracted her short skirt upwards setting it firmly on her wide hips revealing her “from-behind” look and she crowned the whole thing with a face looking back at her prey, inviting him in ways he shouldn’t refuse. There was a moment. Even the not-so-distant loud music seemed to have disappeared from their reality as they eyes locked in pure unaltered lust.

But then the bastard hesitated. Although he seemed to snap out of the hypnotic trance bestowed on him by Bonnie, he was still fapping frantically. He looked at his knocked out girlfriend still half lying down half sitting on some unsuspecting owner’s doorstep. His look towards his girlfriend was that of someone seeking approval or trying to determine if what he was about to engage in was good or worst condoned…

Bonnie realized that she had clearly underestimated the strength of their attachment, something she had experienced once herself when, Sund, her husband was courting her. She had felt the same devotion and surrender to the point of being illogical. That was so long ago, when he loved her, before he repeatedly broke her trust and self-confidence with one of her best friends and multitude of younger conquests.

Bonnie knew that if she didn’t strike now the whole thing was doomed to end as is… and she wasn’t ready for that. As cunning as only a mature bitch can be she regained control.

“What are you? 16?” She spat at him in a semi provoking semi degrading voice. ” Do you need her permission to take your pants off too?”

Vincent’s impossibly cute face changed suddenly. Bonnie knew what she had done. What she wasn’t sure of what the magnitude of the retaliation that was now eminent. She saw the change is his look. She was so scared. She had also never been that turned on. She was ready…

There was a faint ruffle as the belted jean scrapped the dirty asphalt for the last time. With his pants off and a look of resolve, domination, slight disdain overpowered by irresistible desire, Vincent took a few steps forward towards her with his woman taming cock leading the way.

“I’ll show you who needs to get permission!” he said in a clear tone, articulating each syllable well enough to make sure his intent got across.

Bonnie wasn’t sure where all the extra juice that was dipping down her thighs come from. She also wasn’t sure where the faint penetration less moans, emanating from her own mouth came from. Somehow she was losing control again. Somehow she was getting exactly what she wanted.

When his penis finally touched her clit her vision went all blurry. She felt his long member rubbing the entire interminable length of its upper skin along her damp clit. She let out a gasp of submission which only aggravated his testosterone heightened state.

Vincent had just missed the initial penetration by a few inches and as a result ended up rubbing her clit instead in a long unintended sensual stroke. Frustrated, he quickly grabbed his cock, held it firm and made sure it went where then abundant liquid told him to go. He plunged deep into Bonnie, dispensing of the usual slow introduction and accustomization period. He deeply penetrated her and spread apart her long hiatus, assuring she got his full length from the start by spreading her ass cheeks with his muscular vein riddled hands.

It was only then, while being fully penetrated and engulfed, that Bonnie truly realized how big and large Vincent was. Under the effect of his powerful dick, she started to have some misplaced sympathies for his girlfriend because her own legs were already starting to shutter under the delicious pressure his sizeable little friend was applying on all the areas of her vulva including areas that had never been cock stroked before. To make matters worse, she had provoked the damn fucker and he was pumping her at an ungodly rate, pinning her face down on the fence and treating her of vile names she would never admit to liking.

15 seconds into the leg shattering rough romp and Bonnie knew she wasn’t going to make it. She could feel her body was skipping through all the usual stages of incremental sexual pleasure to rush to an unavoidable collision with a well-deserved mushroom cloud worthy climax. She wanted him… She wanted him everywhere… She wanted to devour now him with every hole she had because she knew she wasn’t going to make it. She wasn’t going to last.

Under the domination imposed on her by the aggravated horse hung stud, she mustered the little strength and control that she could. She turned towards Vincent, faked a smile as best she could under the circumstances. In between moans and soft cries of joy, she told him in the simulated calmest of voices:

“Is that all you got or do you need permission to fuck me harder you worthless young piece of shit.” Her tone was both tranquil and piercing.

“You…” He attempted to reply. But he never finished.

Vincent now looked like rage and lust had completely engulfed him. He grabbed Bonnie’s Head by a handful of her dark gently curled hair he could find, turned her head sideways so that one side was now rubbing hard against the wooden fence and the other was exposed facing him. He gathered, then he spat on the open side of her face, slapped hard her on her ass cheeks and tits with his free hand. And yet, to his growing surprise, all oncoming this roughness was met with even louder moans of bliss.

Undignified and powerless he uttered a couple more insults to the sex beast he was trying to tame. He told her things he only half believed just to get a bit of an upper hand in this seemingly one-sided affair. He pulled his dick out her now flooded slit. For a few seconds in the darkness he swore he saw her pussy dripping a lot of its precious content on the florr, but he would worry about that later. For now he had a battle to win.

Determined, Vincent was not ready to be undone. With a tight pull he removed Bonnie’s now dirty fingers that had been logged in her own ass for the last minute or so.

“What are you doing? What are you doing?” she meowed innocently at him.

“I am going to show you that I not a worthless young stud and I am going to punish you in the ass.” He roared.

“Oh please, oh please…” she replied almost breathless,” it is too big for my ass.” She laughed with a mocking tone.

Vincent took a deep breath as if to calm himself down. But it didn’t help in anyway, not when she had such a radiant smile on her, somewhere in his mind he was wondering who was fucking who. He saw her tight hole wink at her in anticipation of the degrading act that was to come, as if even the it was making fun of him. On the other end of the deprave scene, Bonnie couldn’t wait anymore she could feel the mounting symptoms of her climax. She wanted it now.

“Okay, Okay…”she forced herself to giggle through the pain and the extreme pleasure of being pinned down and fucked so hard.” Maybe you are not 16, I think you have grown some balls. 17?”

Vincent could not understand how this woman was still taunting him, let alone how she was still standing after all this. Bonnie did not understand it too. He was so big, he was so rough and yet she yearned for more, for a lot more. He through to himself “She is asking for it, she is going to get it.”

He slapped her a few more times, this time harder and on the face and tits alternatively, and accompanied the whole tirade by a volley of spit that landed right on her beautiful upper lip, right cheek and chin. Without missing a bit, her tongue rose to clean up the drool on her upper lip, her whole body undulating like a charmed mamba from the effect of the strong slap previously received, asking for more, dancing for far more.

Vincent shook his head, he couldn’t take it anymore. He studied his dick which was now well lubricated to the ball by this most daring of stranger. He steadied his stiffer-than-dildo cock with his right hand, pinned her down once more on the fence and buried himself in her perfectly age ripped asshole. The pitch of her voice changed drastically as moans became incessant cries of pure bliss, augmented by her own hand rubbing her Mississippi-like vulva.

“Ohhhhh…..” Bonnie cried submissively, illogically. ”Your big cock is stretching my ass so good. You are going to make me cum… You fucking bastard…” She continued in desperate unconvincing yelp.

From the corner of his eye, Vincent who was now in a total delirium saw her. It was his girlfriend. She had recovered and worse she was standing next to him, her face a mirror of perfect frozen pleasure contrasting with her hand frantically mistreating her own clit. She couldn’t take her eyes of them, and her lips had decided that they were going to part ways until she had cummed again, leaving her breathing to emit faint audible sounds of sin.

Vincent seized the moment. Not so much so consciously but under trance, lust and rage still directed at Bonnie. He grabbed his girlfriend by the throat, pulled her down so that she was kneeling down with her face pointing up next to Bonnie’s slit, next to her lush valley formed by her spread legs separated by the sweetest of pussy river and shamelessly cock perforated ass.

“Lick her pussy!” Vincent ordered her.

Bonnie had one last smile as the soft musky mouth of the soon to be fiancé kissed and licked her engorged pussy lips and clit in a motion of total submission. She gasped in ecstasy as Vincent’s huge cock reentered with forced permission past her sphincter. All these emotions and stimulations were too much for one woman to take; even a once experienced slut like herself. There was a veil of darkness. She must have fainted for a fraction of a second. When she came back to her senses she let it all go.

All those years of frustration and retention; all those marital lies; All the uncalled for neglect she received from her once loving husband; all those time when he profaned and defile their marriage in their own house, on her own bed; all those mocking looks from neighbors and friends too easy to interpret ; all the sacrifices she made for the future of her kids; all those constrains of being a perfect not-to-be-touched trophy wife. She let it all go.

There was a deluge of cum from both parties, then the unmistakable floppy sounds of a cock trying to push cum out of a tight flooded orifice. The next thing Bonnie was aware of, she was on her knees where a considerably ass juice darkened leaking massive cock was being gently stroked by a sex drunk girlfriend.

Bonnie proceeded to kiss it, lick it, clean it with the help of the eager girlfriend. Somehow they had silently agreed that they such a monument of pleasure could not be defiled by so much cum, pussy and ass juice. It had to be thoroughly cleaned and purified until it regained its natural color. It also didn’t hurt that they kissed passionately in the process under the stupefied gazed of a spent Vincent.

Bonnie also noticed how wet the girlfriend face was. She realized that in the final stages of her orgasm she must have squirted any remainder of her womanly juices all over the poor soul’s face. That was no way to reward someone who was helping by licking her juicy clit. Not to be undone the contour of her mouth was now distinctively darkened by the same material that had previously covered her boyfriend’s cock. Never the less she had not complained or winced once. “What a whore in the making,” Bonnie thought to herself.

----------------

Freedom is a funny thing. Sometimes when you get it you are not sure what to do with it, even if you had longed for it for so long.

“Well why think about the future now?” Bonnie thought to herself, “The night is still young.”

Strange noises of fanfare and loud cries of half-drunk crowd rose from a close distance. Somewhere in there was the next unsuspecting victim of Bonnie’s new found freedom…

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