The Adult Story Hub

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By Nightworks (ROWRSC@aol.com)

Althea sat down before her computer and booted up. It had been one of those days at work, following one of those nights before. Work had been hectic. The night before had been difficult, at best. She had broken up with her boyfriend of over a year, deciding that, at age 26, she didn't want to settle down yet. As he got more demanding of her time and about their sexual activity, she got wary, and the result was last night. Maybe that tension-filled evening had contributed to the hectic nature of the workday as a junior but fast track account executive for a Chicago advertising firm.
The silly wavy extended chord poured out of the computer's speakers as the dead blank screen turned to life. The light meal of yesterday's leftovers had tasted pretty good, and now it was time to read the mail and decide whether or not to get in on the stupidities of a chat room before a shower and bed. Althea preferred to live by herself; her finances were solid and her desire for freedom too strong to try to find a roommate. When Charlie, her boyfriend, had made noises about moving in with her, she decided that she had gone as far as she wanted to go with this relationship. She was uneasy about the decision, but it had been made.
The computer was good company. She kept in touch with her parents in Indiana, with an older sister in Rochester, New York, and with some college friends from her days at Northwestern. E-mail was a great way to handle what was once done by formal letters, or, later, by telephone calls. Little cost. Little effort. Easy, brief, and to-the-point contact.
She punched the icon for her ISP and the computer immediately began its mad dash to connect her to the world. The sounds of computers searching for each other, and making contact, were comforting in a strange way. She was reaching out of her condo to a much wider world and (usually) much more interesting people than those who were around her, except for a few at work. The computer touched others, and they could touch her. And if she didn't like their touch, she didn't have to convince and plead, she could just sign off, shut down, and go to bed. She was in control, and she liked that.
The comforting interface of her Internet provider came up on her screen, and the icon that told her that she had E-mail was highlighted. Read now? Or read later? It was her choice, and she decided to check on the mail by just reading down the list of messages. There were two. One was from her sister in Rochester. The second, titled "Must Read" was from someone whose E-mail address she didn't recognize. "Probably spam," she said. She clicked on her sister's message and read the words from Rochester, about colder weather, job going well at the university, husband still not wanting any more kids, and some flak from mom about not getting home often enough. In other words, same old stuff, same old guilt trip from the parents in Indiana whom she referred to as "Home Control," a description left over from a previous boyfriend who had worked for a government laboratory. She debated about clicking on the second message as it looked like spam to her, but the "Must Read" title caught her eye again and to herself she said, "What the hell," and clicked on the icon.
A message came up that raised her eyebrows. What it said was cryptic: It began with a web address, followed by "You might be real interested in going to this web site. It has something about you on it. Click on "Members," and use this password: rng973." Then look for a familiar name on the list. You may be surprised." The sender's name was "Friend." The sender's E-mail address was a strange one. She clicked on the <Reply> button and wrote, "Who are you? Why did you send me this E-mail?" and sent her missive back to the sender. But almost immediately her E-mail icon lit up and, when she clicked on it she discovered that her E-mail, just sent, was "undeliverable." Maybe a mistake in the address, she thought as she turned her attention back to the message before her.
Althea copied the URL from the message and pasted it into the strip at the top of her screen. Before hitting the return she copied the password onto a scrap of paper by her on the desk. Then she hit <Return>. In a few seconds (the time seemed longer to Althea because of her anticipation) a first page appeared. "John's Celebrity Beauties: The Best Fakes on the 'Net" was the heading, and upon reading down the information included on this first page Althea discovered that the site was Web pornography of a type that was unfamiliar to her. Several bare-breasted attractive women graced the page, a come on for the (probably) mostly male visitors to the site, which, from the message boldly declared on the home page, contained pictures of celebrities, film stars mostly, portrayed through the medium of computerized photo manipulation. Scrolling down, she saw that the site almost cried out for the viewer to Join Now! But there was a small window at the bottom for "Members." Althea clicked on the icon and another dialog box asked for her password.
Curious about the site, but more curious about what it had to do with her, Althea typed "rng973" into the little box and hit <Return> on her computer's keyboard. And quickly, there was a list of well over 200 names of the world's female "glitterati," those who had made it in the world of film, or those hoping to make it big in that world. There were also the names of people from other areas of entertainment: Althea recognized several news anchor women, a lot of names from popular, rock, and C&W music, along with the name of a classical violist. Two regulars from one of the cable weather programs were there, as was the name of a popular game show co-host, and from several TV talk shows.
But what did this have to do with her? Now in the world of advertising, Althea had once dreamed of a Hollywood career. She had moved to LA following college and, while working at a studio as a guide, had been given a screen test. An offer was made and accepted, and several bit parts in films had followed. It was clear to her, however, that this environment wasn't hers. Too much waiting for nothing. Too many hits by guys of no interest to her. Too much based on her sexuality and not enough on talent. She thought she had talent, but the film industry was awash in young females who thought they had talent. Althea pulled up stakes and moved back to Indiana. An offer of a position with a Chicago firm had sounded interesting, and the results were a good job with some challenge, good pay and a chance to move upward, and the fun of living in the Second City. The fling with Hollywood was written off as a learning experience. Good looks didn't get you very far when you were surrounded by hundreds of people with the same gifts, the same goals, and the same chance-about zero. Andrea was glad for the experience, but happy to move away from that strange life.
She searched through the alphabetical listing of celebrity names, and then the reason for the cryptic Email became clear. While trying to get a start in films she had changed her name for purposes of making it in the industry, primarily in case a film might cause embarrassment to her parents. Althea had become "Alyssa" and Robinson had become "Rogers," not far from her given and family names, but far enough so as not to attract attention. And there, in the list, was the name "Alyssa Rogers."
A mixture of fear and curiosity filled her mind. Perhaps it wasn't her at all. "Alyssa" was not a real common name, but "Rogers" filled several pages in the Chicago phone book. There was no question, however, that someone out there knew both her furtive screen name and her real name, and felt that the pictures inside this web site were related to her. And there was no question now about whether or not she would see if that relationship was real. Althea clicked on "Alyssa Rogers" on the list of fake celebs. Again, a pause, and then little blank squares and rectangles began to appear on her computer screen. Above the shapes: "Alyssa Rogers. These are all the fakes I have found. If you have more, please send them to me. Click on a thumbnail to see the full picture."
The Web was slow this night, which was often the case. Althea counted the blank shapes-there were sixteen. Each shape, square or rectangle, had words and numbers inside: "JFAlysR100," "JFAlysR101," "JFAlysR102," and so forth. The notation system was obvious, but it was taking longer than she thought necessary for the photos themselves-the thumbnails-to emerge. As she watched sixteen small photos filled in the squares and rectangles.
Althea's face grew red and she began to shake. The faces in the small photos seemed to be hers, different faces, mostly, but several were the same face in different photos. But as best she could determine from the small pictures, the bodies beneath the faces were not hers. She had never posed nude for anyone. She had never been with many different lovers, and the men in the tiny photos, when their faces and bodies could be clearly seen, were not men whom she recognized. And what the women in the photos were doing to the men, or to themselves, or were having done to them by the males, were things that Althea had never done before. Never. Althea shook as she peered at the little photos.
A feeling of revulsion swept over her, but with it there was curiosity. How did she get on this list? Who knew enough about her to get pictures of her face that could be electronically inserted into these pornographic pictures? How did they obtain her photos? Who sent the E-mail to her, and thus knew about her former life as a hopeful starlet, as well as her present situation? And there was also this question: how did she look as a sexual object for men, with "her" body displayed for all to see on the Internet? The questions were all unanswerable right now, except the last one. And that question could be answered by a click of the mouse button.
The first picture was of "Alyssa" by herself, and Althea clicked on the thumbnail. In a few seconds the picture appeared to fill the computer's screen. A broad smile was on her face. "Her" body, a bit heavier than that of the real Althea, was fully facing the camera. "Her" breasts were large but nicely shaped, and her nipples were erect. "Her" legs were splayed and her vaginal region was fully displayed to the camera. "She" was fully shaven, and the outer lips were apart and the inner lips were slightly and invitingly open. "Her" legs were shapely. The picture didn't include "her" feet. The fake was a good one. Where Althea's head had been grafted to the picture of the other woman there was a gold necklace, and Althea couldn't see where the real "her" ended and the fake began. Anyone looking at this photo and not knowing it was a fake would believe that they were seeing much more of a very sensual Althea than she had ever displayed to anyone.
Althea stared at the photo, and her own head and body reacted in different ways. She was angry that someone would do this to her. But she was also strangely turned on by the display of an attractive body that would allow someone to almost look inside of her. She continued to look at this fake of herself, and then hit the <BACK> arrow with the cursor and was returned to the thumbnail page. She wanted to see what "JFAlysR101" looked like full sized. She clicked on the tiny photo and was impatient when the large picture didn't immediately appear. But soon a large horizontal rectangular outline was on her screen. And then picture number two appeared in all its glory.
"JFAlysR101" was a side shot at an angle from the rear. "Her" head was turned back to face the camera, and "her" body was on her knees. The breasts hung down enticingly, and the nipples extended from coral pink areolas. This girl was thinner than the first, but she had nice hips and, like the first, attractive legs. The orientation of the photo allowed the viewer to see the girl's anus and vaginal lips, which were more open than in the first photo. Again, the model was fully shaved, judging at least from the area in view. The effect of the second photo was one of cute sexuality, rather than of the raw sexual offering of the first.
Now Althea was anxious to see the rest of "her" photos. The back button led to the thumbnails and she clicked on the third. This one was larger than the others, and in it "she" wasn't alone. Again, it was her face, and a different photo from either of the first two. But "she" was sitting on a man's lap. His face was just visible behind her. "Her" feet were on his legs above his knees. "Her" legs were spread apart, as in the first, but in this photo the man's long and hard penis was in "her" vagina. "Her" breasts in this picture were smaller than in the previous photos, but "her" genitals was more clearly revealed surrounding the penis. A sizable clitoris was visible above the now-filled vaginal entrance, which showed evidence of moisture.
Althea felt herself beginning to react to this photo, which probably was closer to her true body size and shape than those previously put under her face. The reaction was one of arousal. She had never been exposed too much pornography before, and had not had much curiosity about it. Now here "she" was, part of a pornographic display that was calculated to arouse, and it was reaching even her. It was as if she was watching herself have sex, and from the winsome smile on her face in the made-up photo, she was truly enjoying herself and what this strange man was doing to her. She stared at the doctored photo for a long time, and then again hit the <Back> arrow.
The next photo was of "her" alone, lying on her right side. She wasn't completely nude, but wore an unbuttoned sweater. Attractive breasts with large, round areolas graced her chest, sagging a bit as might be expected. Again, "her" pubic hair had been shaved but only the beginning of the vaginal slit was visible as "her" legs were closed. "Her" right hand supported her head, while the left arm rested on "her" side. Althea was beginning to think of the photos in a different way, as she was thinking now of "her" breasts, "her" nipples, "her" stomach, and the like.
In her mind these were shocking photos, and there was her face, peering into the eyes of the computer user. In this photo her face wasn't smiling, but had the look of someone who wanted something to happen. The eyes were sharp and bright. She wondered just when the photo was taken that had been used to make this one. Her light brown hair was shorter than it was now, in fact it was shorter than she had ever had it, and she remembered that her hair had been short when she first went to California to strike it rich in the land of makebelieve. Only now, the make-believe world existed on her computer, and she, at least in this segment, was the star.
Several more photos were brought to full size. In one she straddled a dining room chair with her arms on the chair back. Very large and well-rounded breasts were partially hidden by the chair back, but enough was visible to make the breasts a point of attention for any breathing male. Her pubic hair in this photo was not completely shaved; there was a little wedge of hair above the top of her lips. The lips themselves were closed but slightly protruded from her body, and the hood of the clitoris was clearly seen. The following photo was altogether different. It was of just her face, but the large purple head of a fully erect penis was in the lower left corner of the picture, and was pointing at her face. Strands of semen hung from her chin, and a small drop was in the corner of her mouth. There was some on her nose and above her right eye.
The photo was one that had been used before, with an inviting smile and open mouth. "She" had just sucked a man to orgasm, and he had shot his semen all over her face, and she had enjoyed it. This photo left her breathless, and a bit worried. She had never had oral sex, and had resisted all invitations and requests from her several boyfriends to perform it on them. Her last relationship with Charlie had broken up at least partly over just this matter-he had demanded that she show more sexuality in their relationship, and when she balked, he walked, and she called a halt to the affair. Now she looked at herself enjoying the act. This one both unnerved her and raised her level of excitement to a higher pitch.
She didn't think that the next photo was very good. In it, she was seated in a wheelbarrow, facing front. Her legs were spread and a mostly-shaved pussy was front and center. Her breasts sagged more than in the previous pictures, and there was a rise in her belly that she didn't like at all. Her face was one that hadn't been used before but it was not particularly flattering in that it appeared a bit puffy and her hair seemed to have been cut off when the head was attached to the body. Behind the wheelbarrow, holding onto the handles and lifting them up was a man who appeared to be a Latino. But what was clear in the photo was that he had a huge erect cock that stuck out beside her head.
As she peered at this wheelbarrow photo, she remembered that she could save the photos onto her own computer, or at least she thought that she could. She clicked on <File> and then <Save> and the dialog box came up, indicating that the photo could be saved in her Download file as "JFAlysR106." She clicked to save the photo, and then went back and saved the previous photos. She wasn't sure why she did so, and didn't know whether or not she wanted to see these things again. But she saved them, driven by curiosity and awareness that these photos were arousing her.
Photo 107 jolted Althea in a way that the others had not. She was lying on her right side with her knees tucked up in front of her. At her head, another new photo, a man knelt with his hard cock in his hand, obviously offering it to her slightly open mouth. But there was another man in the photo, and he was kneeling behind her. A clear photo. And it showed this second man's hard penis halfway into her anus.
Althea broke into a sweat as she watched herself begin to suck one man's penis while another had anal intercourse with her. She looked at this photo for a long time, and experienced sensations throughout her body as she took in the scene and imagined what the girl was feeling with one cock in her mouth (almost) and one definitely probing her virginal anus from behind. She was aware of anal sex; but the interest in and desire to perform anal sex (or have it done to her) had never occurred to her. Charlie had suggested trying it but she had flatly rejected the idea. But here was a woman, attractive, a fine body displayed, not only doing it, but also, with her own face in her place, obviously enjoying it! Althea was questioning her own feelings and beliefs, as new feelings rose within her and were seemingly beyond her control.
She saved this photo and continued onward. There was another shot of her having anal intercourse. She was on her back and had a surprised look on her face as a man pushed his penis into her while kneeling between her legs, which were raised off of the bed. This fake was a very good one as the body matched hers quite accurately, with small, pointed breasts and a flat tummy. Again, her pubic hair was completely shaved, and her pussy lips revealed that the man had entered her vagina before taking her anally. The look on her face was one she remembered from a scene in one of the films that she had been in, but she remembered that this scene had not been in the film when it had been released.
More photos. In one she was lying on a carpet with her legs making that perfect V that had its apex in a shaved groin. In another she was sitting sprawled in a chair. The photo was a new one, not used before, and it was not well matched to the body. But as in the others, her pussy was bare and her anus was visible. Another photo, from the side, showed her looking at the man who was above her and was plunging his long cock into her. Her look was one of enjoyment, and the facial photo was a new one. And in one that she considered one of the sexiest of all, she was lying on a beach, completely nude except for a blue denim jacket, fully open. Her breasts were capped by large puffy areolas and small nipples, which were hard and extended. Her tummy was very flat. One hand rested just above her vaginal slit. She was fully shaved, and her slit was rounded and disappeared between two beautiful legs in a way that Althea herself found stimulating. It appeared that the next move that this woman-Althea-in-the-photo-would make would be to insert a finger into that narrow inviting flesh canyon and seek her clitoris. The appearance of her face in the photo was one of wonder as she took in this view of her own body. Althea had the definite feeling of "looking at herself while looking at herself." She felt the wetness between her legs and a slight tremor coursed through her body.
When Althea brought the fourteenth photo from thumbnail to full size, she shuddered. It was a side view. She was kneeling on the floor, her body vertical. Her head, definitely her head, was thrown backward in abandonment of all save lust. Before her, another woman knelt, an attractive blonde woman with short hair and a cute round face. The other woman's vagina was only visible as it started to disappear between her legs, which were partially spread. She was shaved and totally bare to her view. The woman's right hand was not visible, but was evidently between Althea's legs, touching her vagina. Althea assumed that she, too, was shaved bare of pubic hair. But then, the essence of the photo: the woman's lips were clamped onto Althea's right nipple, pulling it out from her breast, stretching it as far as a nipple could be stretched. Lust upon lust, woman upon woman. Althea's hands were behind her, grasping a throw rug, tension evident in their tight grasp. Her mouth was open, and Althea could almost hear a voice, her voice, crying out in an ecstatic cry of pleasure and pain.
The photo left Althea shaken to the core. She stared at it for a long time, looking at the tip of her nipple held tightly in the love-giving mouth of the young woman kneeling in front of her. Althea shook. She felt dizzy and disoriented. What was reality? She felt herself to be in the photo. Her nipples tingled and grew hard as she imagined what this scene would feel like, where she really in it. For a second she was sorry that she was dressed, and that a sweatshirt covered her breasts. Her hand shook and was damp with perspiration as she clicked on <SAVE> to make the photo her own. It was several seconds before she could go back and view the next-tolast picture.
This one was another anal photo, still a shock to Althea's experience and sensibilities. This time she was on the man's lap as in the earlier photo. In fact, Althea was sure that the woman whose body she was using was the same woman as in the earlier picture. But this time the cock was in her anus, and only a short section of it was visible. She imagined it extending its hard length into her body. Her vaginal lips were open and moist. This one seemed to be the most realistic of all the photos, except that she had never been with any man who looked like this one (even though his face was hidden behind the back of the woman she could see that he resembled no one she had ever known, certainly that intimately. But he was nicely built and not unattractive to her) and she had never done that with any man.
She found herself hoping that the woman whose body wore her face had enjoyed the sex, and wondered if she would have enjoyed it had it really been her in the photo. She hoped that the penis in her anus was giving the woman pleasure. Althea had trouble imagining how this might be so, but accepted the photo as evidence that the act occurred, and perhaps was enjoyed. The pictures were clearly getting to her, and in her mind a blurring had occurred between what she was seeing and what really was the subject of the photo. Althea was beginning to put herself into these obscene acts, and she could not help herself, as she felt aroused by this strange voyeurism.
The final photo was a shot of someone else's breasts and her head. A hard cock rose vertically from the body of a mostly-unseen man. Through the electronic miracle of photo manipulation the cock was in her mouth, and it was ejaculating there. Semen was dribbling out of her mouth around the side of the cock that could be seen in the picture. Some had landed on the man's body beneath her. Her nipples were hard and firm and nearly grazed the man's chest as she bent over his cock, and her left hand gently felt his testicles as her mouth received his slippery seed. Althea was overwhelmed by this photo, and found herself gasping for breath as she looked in on herself committing this act of total depravity with a strange man who was coming in her mouth. In her mouth! In the photo her eyes were clear and full of life and enjoyment. There was happiness on her face along with the drops of semen around her mouth, which was closed around the cock.
She saved the final photo in her "Download" file with a quivering hand, and exited the 'Net. A drink. A stiff drink. Althea went into the kitchen and poured a shot of bourbon and added a touch of water and some ice. She seemed in a daze and sat on a kitchen chair and stared at the wall. Who had sent that E-mail? Who had gotten photos from her very brief and very forgettable Hollywood past? Who else had seen these photos and recognized her? Has anyone at work acted as if he (or she?) had seen the photos? Why did she react to them as she did? Why wasn't she angry, revolted by the images of her in poses and acts that had never occurred to her to do, let alone actually doing them? Why was she aroused, shaky, in need of something beyond the succor of the bourbon in the glass?
Althea suddenly felt the need for a shower, perhaps to wash off the "filth" that she had seen on her computer screen. She stripped off her sweat suit and turned on the water. The warm streams cascaded off of her trembling body. She lathered her hands and began to wash herself. The water's massage and the touch of her own slippery hands aroused her even more as she slowly worked her hands over her own shapely breasts and felt her own nipples rise like those of the women in the photos. As her hands touched her own vagina she thought of the hands of those men seeking and finding the intimate parts of her body, probing her vagina and her anus with fingers, tongues, penises. As the water washed the soap from her face she remembered the photos of semen on her own lips and cheeks, and she wondered what the substance would feel like or taste like within her mouth and on her tongue. She washed herself with a rhythm and found that she was rubbing her clitoris, seeking relief with her own hand.
But she did not come. She had not masturbated in years, since early puberty, and didn't, or couldn't, bring herself to climax in the warm confines of the shower. As she toweled herself dry and brushed her teeth, Althea still felt the tension that the photos had engendered within her. She chose a pastel nightgown, put the dead bolt on the door, turned out the lights in the rest of the apartment and got into bed. She switched on the TV, but discovered that she could not concentrate on the inane shows that danced before her eyes on the tube. Wherever she looked she could still see the images of "herself" on the computer screen, and could not shake from her mind the pictures of the intimacies now stored on her computer's hard drive.
Althea began to wonder what she would really look like if it had actually been her in those photos. What would her vagina look like if all the hair was gone and she was as smooth as when she had been a child? What did her buttocks look like if hands, hers or someone else's, held them apart and exposed the clean pucker of her anus to the view of an aroused man? Or woman? What would others see if she lay sprawled in a chair with her legs wide apart, allowing someone to see her completely exposed, with nothing, no part of her body, no intimate secret, withheld from their eager eyes and exploring fingers? Would they be eager to touch her like the men in the photos were touching her? Would their touch be sensuous, slow and delicious in the act of arousal that would take all the time in the world and would last almost forever, culminating in one violent climax after another? Or would they be rough, hurried, perfunctory, like much of the limited love making that she had experienced and seldom enjoyed? She could not sleep. She could not watch television. Obsession with the photos was her only thought.
Her hands ranged over the curve of her breasts, covered by the thin material of her gown. Althea felt her nipples grow hard under her palms. She grasped them through her gauzy gown with her fingers, and saw in her mind the grasping mouth of the woman who knelt before her in the doctored photo. Althea's hands were dry. The woman's mouth would be moist and slippery. Her right hand moved to her groin and she pulled the gown above her hips, raising her body to allow it to slide out of the way. She sought her vagina with her hand and felt her hair. Althea thought of the slick, clean bodies of the women who gave their beautiful forms to her face, and her hands moved through her pubic hair to her vaginal slit. Then Althea stood up.
She removed her gown and went into her bathroom. In one of her cabinets she sought and found her razors, a bag full of the varicolored throwaway types, and also the gel that she had used before to trim her pubic hair before donning her swimsuit. Althea went to the tub and began to run water, but did not close the drain. She adjusted the temperature and sat on the side of the tub with her feet in it. She took the gel and squirted a large amount into her left hand. She then began to rub it into her pubic hair, feeling its slippery coolness on her intimate flesh. Then she took a pink razor, hesitated not a moment, and began to slowly shave her hair.
The razor soon became clogged with her long hairs, and she rinsed the razor again and again under the running water. She soon had the upper part of her groin devoid of hair, but she continued, spreading her legs to reach the skin on each side of her labia majora. She worked steadily, almost mechanically, and stood to shave off the hair behind her vaginal crevice. With some determination and contortion she removed even the short hairs that surrounded her anus. As she worked, she wondered whether the women in her photos shaved themselves, or had some assistant to shave them. Or maybe they had husbands or lovers who enjoyed shaving them bare and then pressing their lips to the smooth flesh.
Her hand searched her body for any remaining hair, and she suddenly realized that she could feel her skin, her intimate skin, for the first time in nearly fifteen years. Her skin burned with the razor's touch, and she took a cloth and washed off remaining hair and gel. The slight burning remained, and Althea stood and walked to the bathroom cabinet and found a bottle of baby oil that remained from the time when she had used it for some sunburn. She poured some oil into her right hand and began to apply it to her bare flesh. The slippery soothing lotion added to her erotic haze, and she rubbed it in slowly, making sure to include her clitoris and inner lips as her fingers felt the freshly shaved skin. Althea put the bottle of baby oil beside her sink, and then went to stand before her full-length mirror, to see what her razor had wrought.
It was as if one of the photos had come alive. The small V of her groin met the larger, inverted V of her legs, and no hair intervened to shield her eyes from the meeting place. Her outer lips were parted slightly, and her inner lips, and the hooded clitoris above them, protruded just a bit from the front of her vaginal crevice where it began to dive between her attractive legs. Althea turned slowly, looking at herself and her newly-shaven body from all angles. She admired her rounded buttocks. In fact, she stood with her back to the mirror and spread her legs. Then she bent her body downward and peered at her reflection in the mirror.
Althea spread her buttocks slightly with her hands, and closely examined her anus, and the view of her vaginal slit from behind. Her inner lips were still slightly parted, and to Althea she looked like one of the women in the photos whose pussy seemed to have just had a big hard penis taken from it, before it was pushed into her tight anus. She was awash in emotions, dizzy with lust, caught up in her new body, her new hairless body. She turned and faced the mirror again, and used her hands to pull apart her vaginal lips, allowing the intimate pink interior to show beneath the hooded clitoris. With one hand she pulled her skin tight to open her vagina and reveal even more clearly her clitoris, and with her left hand she cupped her left breast, showing all of herself to the imaginary audience, with its imaginary camera, before her in the mirror.
Althea retreated to her bed, with the baby oil in her hand. She stood by the bed and began to coat her body with the slippery substance, reaching as much of her back as she could, and paying attention to her buttocks and anal region. She put the oil on the stand by the bed and lay down, beginning the process of bringing herself to climax. Her left hand sought her slippery groin, and her index and middle fingers slid up and down on either side of her clitoris. Her right hand cupped her breast, first right, and then left. She pulled her left nipple as hard as she could before the slippery raspberry-like protrusion slipped from her fingers. Reaching now toward relief, Althea moved to lie on her left side, and her right hand left her hard nipples and reached toward her anus. Her middle finger entered her very private orifice for the first time, and was soon followed by her ring finger. Images from the Internet flashed through her mind and she suddenly rose and knelt on her bed, rubbing her slippery cunt with her left hand while her right hand moved in and out of her self-violated rear hole.
As she felt herself rising to orgasm, Althea shouted aloud, "Fuck me, you bastard! Fuck me, please!" imagining herself in the loving embrace of a man, or perhaps of two men who were both using her tense body, and giving her the pleasure she craved. Like in the photos, they were faceless men with strong bodies and large cocks. Her climax wracked her body, and her head fell to the mattress while her buttocks remained in the air. Her body quivered in the ecstasy of explosive relief. The fingers of her right hand came out of her anus while those of her left hand pushed into her vagina, prolonging the climax. She remained in that position for a number of minutes, and then collapsed onto the mattress. She pulled the covers over her nude body, made sure the alarm was set, and slept.