Sophie, standing in the clear light of day, viewed her naked body critically in the long mirror. Having waved goodbye to her thirtieth year a couple of years earlier, she was just a little concerned with what age would do to her body.

Others still commented on how beautiful she was. She was slender, youthful in appearance, and retained plenty of vigour for the life she led. Yes, it was easy to deceive others, but in her own eyes, her flesh was losing some firmness and the smoothness of the skin was less evident. Her neat breasts had little sign of drooping, and despite her self-doubt, she was more loved than ever.

So many of society’s young men had found, in Sophie, the gift of learning how to give and receive in the act of lovemaking. She was sought out at the many Mayfair or Bloomsbury social events, and it pleased her to see them debating who would win the ‘rooting around’ rites to her nubile body for that night.

Although she enjoyed being caressed by their eager hot hands, she rarely came across a stiffened penis, hard enough or able enough to lift her to true heights as Ivor could. But it pleased her to endow them with what they could never get from young ladies of their own age with their unwillingness, their innocence and inexperience. It was rumoured that Sophie could send these young men away, with an early schooling for a successful married life.

Sophie’s husband, Ivor, was fifteen years her senior, and she still found him very handsome. Despite twelve years together, he had continued to treat her with the fervour of a young lover, just as he had on their wedding night, when he had worshipped each part of her body individually, kissing, mouthing, stroking, her feet, her ears, her neck, her hair, her shoulders, breasts, labia, and thighs. He had opened her like the petals of a flower, so she could moistly absorb the heat and hardness of him.

It was Ivor who taught her what sexual perfection was, making her vibrate to his every gently subtle caress. Sophie knew he had had, and still took, several lovers. She accepted that it had been his way of life since his late teens.

He accepted, even encouraged, and never took seriously, her whim to pour her practiced joys on young men moving out into life. “How else can we learn the absolute truth of what our deeper emotions are capable of? ” He loved to settle with his head on her naked belly as they recounted to each other recent engagements.

Sophie learned early in their marriage that Ivor’s first consideration of any woman was her mouth. One night, he had her lie on her back, naked, and urged her to gradually relax every muscle in her body, to close it all down. Only her mouth had to remain alert and alive to every erotic sensation. He was no hypnotist, but so gentle, so persuasive that her body became languid while her mouth flared like the extra sex organ Ivor told her it was.

While his sturdy penis lunged along her inner cheeks, and was lavished by her hot wet tongue, he would tell her of how he judged a woman’s sexuality by the lure of her mouth. A tightness of lip offered nothing voluptuous. Full generous lips promised an equally generous sexuality, while he adored moist lips or lips always slightly parted as though awaiting a kiss or fused intrusion. “I would follow any woman so endowed,” he told her, frankly.

But he would go on to whisper how her own mouth, the lips he was gliding between at that moment had attracted him from the start. “Your mouth has a perverse fullness, “ he said warmly. “The passionate way you unfold your lips before we kiss, parting, promising a storm of delights. And you deliver that promise.”

Ivor had developed the whole of her sensuous nature. Always so gentle despite his passion, always treating her like a lover, wooing her with the expensive pleasures of life. They had a favourite restaurant, and they could be shielded in a small curtained dining area where she was pampered with exquisite food and the best of wines. After a meal, waiters cleared all but the wine before discreetly drawing the curtain.

Ivor enchanted her with his magically adoring words before the kissing began. He nibbled at her lips, asked for her tongue, fingers under her gown tickled tenderly at her nether wetness. He would ask which part of her wanted him most.

Depending on her rising sensuality she would say, “My mouth wants you. I want that hardness wrapped in my tongue, want you pouring your strength down my throat.” On another occasion she might tell him, “I am very moist between my thighs.” And there was a convenient divan where he could oblige her deepest desire.

There was only one experience that he introduced her to on only two occasions. Both occasions had surprisingly, unexpectedly, lifted Sophie to unbelievable heights. But then, despite her pleasure he had declared the action unclean and depraved, and it had never been mentioned again, but then there were so many other pleasure to pursue

The locations for their frequent explorations of each other’s bodies were limitless. A theatre box was private enough for their deeper intimacies if the show was boring. Taxis were a constant source of their union, especially for the proficient oral delights they bestowed on each other. Taxi drivers could be paid triple fare to drive around the city until their passion was complete.

Sophie was highly aware that her sensuality continued to grow even if her skin was less than perfect in her own eyes. But she became nervous in realising that before long Ivor might not be enough for her. He had led a life of such excess and she had reaped the benefits in becoming his only wife. But she sensed a vague falling away of his vitality, and even some of her younger playthings seemed sharper if less considerate.

Came the day when Ivor had to go on an important business trip for ten days. He claimed that the import/export company he owned needed to stay ahead of rivals but left her plenty of financial backing in her account.

For days, Sophie was restless and unsettled. Then, one of Ivor’s friends, Max. a renowned painter, phoned her. Well known for his paintings of high society ladies dressed or naked. He had often stated that he longed to paint Sophie in a naked erotic pose, but something had always held her back, even though Ivor had no objections.

Despite her worries about her own looks, when Max came on, she was hoping it was an offer for her to pose. Only, it wasn’t. “Aren’t you a little bored by yourself, Sophie? Wouldn’t you like to join us in a special masked party?”

Sophie knew exactly what he meant. Ivor had told her that it was an idea he’d picked up while in Paris. It had become one of Max’s favourite forms of rather depraved amusement. Choosing a warm summer night, he would have maybe twenty of his high class friends dressed, and masked to maintain secrecy if required, driven to a clearing deep in Epping Forest, where with countless bottles of champagne to charge themselves up they would disport themselves often until dawn.

Sophie had no details of the whole function. Ivor had never chosen to go. He had laughingly said that the masks might confuse him, and he could find himself with his penis implanted in the wrong woman.

Given her suppressed state, Sophie was only too willing to accept the invitation. She had a green gown, that fit like a second skin, and was still unworn. She wondered what kind of man it might lure. Usefully it had an easily unfastened arrangement which might become useful.

Ivor had told her that identification was discouraged, although not banned. She lightened her hair from dark brown, to a tawny shade, curled up to shoulder length. It also seemed an exciting idea to have her sexual area waxed to remove all hair. Her image in the mirror quite surprised her, and the sense of freedom it brought with it further encouraged her to remove all underwear, before donning the black mask to further disguise herself.

Weather-wise the evening was near perfect, no moon but a trillion stars made it an evening for romance. Sophie hoped it was more a time for lust. Outside Max’s big studio, the dimmed lights preserved the identity of the guests. Sophie wasn’t counting.but she suspected there were more than twenty.

All assembled, all elegant to start with, they were guided to waiting limousines. Sophie sat quietly absorbing the overpowering perfume of the other two ladies and listening to their excited chatter about what they intended. Obviously, it was not their first party.

They were driven to the deepest part of the forest, a beautiful clearing, carpeted in thick moss. Very quickly the champagne was flowing, and, so quickly, revealing openings appeared at hem and neckline.

Behind the masks, these normally so dignified people went at each other with a hunger that Sophie found both fascinating and exciting. Hands were plunged up sumptuous evening dresses, touching wherever they wished. Pants were unzipped and rigid male flesh sprouted in hot female hands, and mouths. Heavy, gasping breathing sounded all around, along of with girlish giggles and deep laughter.

Very quickly Sophie found herself having the attention of two men. The first drunkenly tried to arouse her by kissing her mouth and bare breasts. Actions which had little effect. Two men at the same time was not part of her experience, and that made her rather uneasy.

But all was quickly resolved when the second man slid his hand under her long gown and began caressing up and down her inner thigh. Very soon, her moisture was drizzling down there. He felt it too, and as she shuddered with her arousal, it was a delight to be lifted and carried off into the darkness.

The other man was too drunk to protest. Even more aroused in these strong arms, Sophie was lifted further as she observed the orgy that was going on as they passed. Somewhere a woman cried out. “Do it. I can’t wait. Do it.” On an embankment, two women had dragged their skirts high and were head to tail faces buried in each other’s moistness.

Just before she was carried into deeper shadows, she saw two men, laughing as they teased a very drunken lady. Her dress was unfastened and her nudity was only shielded by her flapping skirt. The men touched, stroked, and licked at her until she was in a frenzy of need, pressing obscenely against them, wriggling into them with her dress agape.

Sophie was glad to miss whatever happened there next as she was carried to a bank of moss and lowered down, not too gently. Gentleness was all she had ever known when clasped to Ivor. She was about to learn that sexual release came in various forms.

As the dark shadow of his muscular form loomed over her he was unzipping his pants Sophie had a brief glimpse of a promising penis. She was so ready for that, as he dropped his hand between her thighs, and fingers trailed along her soaked channel. Yes, yes, more delightful caresses for her.

Wrong!

He had only been testing her readiness. Next second, both his hands had forced their way beneath her buttocks where they clutched like claws and her lower body was lifted so that her weeping sex was face-to-face level with his hungry hardness.

No delay, and his violence was devastating. Sophie could well imagine how it must feel to be gored by a bull. Horn-like he tore up into her. Such fury, amid wild misplaced kisses, such vicious passion, yet no pain. Only his grasping gluttonous hunger to possess her body and soul.

Sophie could not believe her own madness in accepting his savage thrust after thrust. Completely lost in a misplaced stimulation hitherto unknown, she found a wild desire to respond, to retaliate with a similar voracious lust. But had she the strength?

His initial intrusion into her body had shaken her, but his climax, when it hit, was overwhelming. His horny hardness plunged and lunged again and again, faster, and faster, spurting his seed deep inside her. One final all-mighty jerk rode her whole body higher up the mossy bank. as he growled like a bear. Sophie was asking herself why she wasn’t protesting to stop this onslaught on her hitherto gently treated sex.

She had to admit. Stopping was the last thing she wanted. There was no orgasm as she was used to. Totally stunned by the sheer power, came the worrying surprise.

She had loved it!

Slowly, softened, he slid out of her, and there was an instant trickle of their mixed juices on her thigh. Immediately, he handed her a large white handkerchief. Sophie nodded her gratitude and dabbed at the discharge.

Crouched alongside her, he took her free hand in his, and, after his brutish viciousness, his voice was strangely gentle, as he admitted, “I needed that. Now, what about you?”

Finishing her wiping, she cautiously admitted, “It was different.”

“So, you didn’t hit any top C’s? I thought not.”

Sophie said nothing as she thought he had seemed to seek nothing but what he wanted. “You women rarely take a man in a way that matches your own needs. Too often you seek refinement, sweetness and fail to use a man for your own pleasure.”

Somewhere in the forest there were screams of raucous laughter, male and female.

“Now is your chance. I’m hoping to feel, and share, your joy.” He had never released her hand, and as he guided it down towards his groin, she glanced to see his limp penis lying like a huge white snail on his thigh. “First task is to bring my cock back to life.”

His language shocked her, and he brought his face close showing he had noticed, “Ah, of course, your upper echelon gentlemen only have penises. You maybe need a language lesson.” His accent didn’t fit this party Sophie thought but only briefly.

Then, he sat back, pulling her hand down, “Stroke my balls. Squeeze them.”

Sophie‘s mind was telling her that Ivor would have said “scrotum, as her fingers strayed over his wrinkled sac. “Grab them,” he ordered.

Sophie didn’t like being ordered but as she gripped tighter she found a degree of wonder at the size of the twin objects under her fingers. She had always thought of Ivor’s being like golf balls, but these---And she knew, they had a penis to match.

She hadn’t long to wait, ”Move your fingers upwards. Take it tight in your fist.”

Sophie caught her breath as she encountered his revitalised hardness. Thick and getting ever harder as she squeezed around it. His mouth came close to her ear, “Now is the time. Show your true appetite. Use my cock, use your fingers, use your tongue, your mouth. Satisfy yourself as you never have,”

As she began wanking on his hard penis, she knew something wild had been planted in her earlier and was now desperate to break out. Heightened by his continued incitement, that ferocity was building. “Go on. “And he was panting now, ”I’m going to be taking from you. Let yourself take me as you want and need.”

His words raised a certain idea in her, but it was buried as the great deep well of desire burst upwards, drowning all consideration. Unknown before this moment, a savage fever took over. He was tasting her everywhere. His teeth traced from shoulder to nipple before his tongue poked at her navel then his teeth nibbled around her labia and clit.

All of this in just seconds, and Sophie’s fire demanded she take over, give, and receive compensation for earlier violence. Her mouth closed around his penis, or his cock, if he liked, and her teeth bit into it, hard enough to make him gasp a sound of pleased acknowledgement. Next, she gnawed at the bulbous shiny head. Her fingers wildly sought his mouth when it was near. He sucked on them but next second was tonguing her clit.

Actions seemed to be happening so fast, in a turmoil of sexual frenzy. There was no moss, no air, no stars and certainly no orgasm. Or was this all one massive on-going orgasm? She sucked each of his balls singly before managing to fill her mouth with them. Released them by making them pay a forfeit of her tooth-bites. She heard herself growl as his hardness plunged her juiciness once more, driving just as ferociously as the first time but now she was equal to it, took it, delighting in the passion of it.

As his penis withdrew she snaffled it with her hot mouth, sucking the taste as an added aphrodisiac, giving it another bite, as she gripped his balls fiercely. He growled like a tiger. Sophie had never thought such animalistic behaviour was in her. This was a new way of life, of sex.

Their frenzy went on remorselessly. Sophie could not have enough of his mouth all over her body, his tongue, even when it poked into her ears, but wherever it poked it was exquisite. His penis, his cock deep inside her, among her flowing juices or down her throat—and was that when her mind shifted to the need for climax?.

No coincidence that at that moment his tongue, which had been testing for the depth of her entry, suddenly moved back beyond that point, and tickled around her little wrinkled hole of her anus.

That was it. The trigger. No extra thought as she wriggled her body away from him rolled onto her hands and knees and raised her buttocks. The joy you deprived me, Ivor.

She heard him breathlessly chuckle as he growled, “Ah, yes, like the dogs.”

“More than that.”

She heard him mutter a, ”Huh?” But the next second his mighty rod was once again deep along her juicy track. Sophie was thinking lubrication, that’s all. She was in such a state of anticipatory licentiousness, that what should have been climactic was merely another wanton step to a greater need.

This man’s heaves might have flattened her, because, she could sense he was, after all, they had shared, ready to climax. Not yet, though. Oh, no. not yet.

“Other hole. Other hole," she gasped desperately. Sophie knew she could have had an orgasm at any time in the last few minutes. But surely the big one was imminent.

He had hesitated, and was withdrawing only slowly, “You mean—”

Almost angrily she cried, “Yes, yes, I mean it. Didn’t you tell me to take what I wanted?”

Sophie parted her legs and tried to raise her buttocks higher. She felt his hands on her hips, as he positioned himself.

“You sure about this?”

“Oh, for God’s sake," she gasped, and reaching behind her she found his juice-laden penis and drew the head to her eager anus.

She took in a deep, excited breath as he applied pressure. He was bigger than Ivor had been, so there was momentary tightness, as she began panting, longing for the sheer rapture that she was sure would be part of a full hard, long entry.

This man was much more cautious than he had been. Clearly an anal entry was not too familiar to him. In fact, at that moment he mumbled in her ear, “Is it all right?”

“Just do it.”

His solid erection pressed into her. Momentary stretching, slight pain, and then with what sounded like a slight ‘pop’ the fullness of him was sliding easily into her rectum, filling her, enthralling her. Eagerly, she pressed back against his thrust. As he, clearly more confident now, drew back before thrusting again.

The absolute euphoria of this was so unbelievable. Sophie had experienced many orgasms over the years and knew that they came at different levels. But what was happening to her now as she squirmed back to have herself truly pronged on this massive probe, was beyond her wildest hopes.

He had reached around her and was squeezing at her hardened nipples. That put extra pressure on her aching scalding tubes. Blood was pumping madly through her body and the searing intensity of this hard monster plunging like some massive piston up into her insides, where fires were igniting, was driving an elated Sophie into something near delirium.

Yes, Ivor, it‘s lewd. Yes, it’s depraved, shameless debauchery. But, oh, God it is such exquisite ecstasy. So new, so vital.

Sophie knew a massive orgasm was heaving at her insides as though unable to escape, and then, he dropped his hand to finger the daisy her clit had become. As she went soaring over the edge, with this cock pushing up towards her very soul, the man suddenly hit his climax and his massive lunge to expel his cream up into her belly, and Sophie heard her own mad, wild squeal of delight.

It was the last thing she heard as she collapsed forward, and the world went away.

When she woke up, it was to find herself in a lumpy bed in what was a small shabby room with thin unwashed curtains on the windows. A man lay asleep beside her and she was naked. So was he and a strand of sheet covered his loins.

Sophie knew this was the man who had treated her to last night’s wild experience. Such a tanned, muscular body and a handsome face with a strong jawline. His dark hair was a ragged bush. As she viewed him, his eyes opened, and he smiled. ”I had to keep you. I stole you so no one else could have you.

“Where are we?” Sophie asked.

“The cheap hotel where I live.”

“So how were you in with the crowd.”

“Chance,” he said, with a grin that lit his face, and he went on to tell her how curiosity had him follow the convoy entering the woods a few weeks earlier.

“I had three women that night. I think they enjoyed it. I’ve been watching for another chance.”

“And it was me?”

His dark eyes regarded her warmly, “You are fire. You were so willing.”

“I have to leave,” she told him.

“Will you promise to come back?”

He sat up, so physically manly, and her body trembled at his nearness. He began kissing her, her lips, her shoulders, her breasts. Her body retained the pleasures of the previous night, and she dropped her hand. That familiar hardness.

Out in the daylight, she saw the shiny head was a surprising deep maroon colour. “What is it you’re holding?” he asked, with a sly grin on his face.

Oh, yes, Sophie knew, “Your cock.” she said, before lying back to allow him to take her again and prove there had been no dream. This was the penis that had burned its way through her whole body.

As she left, he said quietly, with a gentle laugh, “I’m Mack by the way.”

“Sophie,” she shared the laugh.

And so, she returned, several times because he brought her to life.