Wiked games in the wood

Wicked Games in the Woods

I’m absolutely thrilled, baby, planning our birthday party at a cozy cabin in the woods we rented for the weekend. We all attend the same private high school, where Victoria and I are on the swimming team—her as legacy royalty, born into the elite families that fund the place, and me on a scholarship, earning my spot through hard work and laps in the pool. You’ve worked the entire semester to rent this cabin for winter break, a sweet gesture to celebrate my birthday, and it makes me feel so special, knowing you’ve saved up just for us to have this escape. The air’s crisp with the scent of pine and woodsmoke, the cabin’s rustic charm with soft lighting, plush rugs, and a crackling fireplace setting the perfect mood for unwinding and indulging.
A package arrives from you, a sleek black box with a note on top: “Call me.” My pulse quickens, curiosity sparking as I dial your number. Your voice comes through, deep and smooth with a commanding edge that sends a shiver down my spine. “Wear the dress tonight with my gift,” you say, your tone teasing, promising something wicked. I’m already burning to make myself perfect for you, my mind racing with sensual thoughts as I open the box. Inside is a tight black dress, short and clingy, made to hug my curves like a second skin. Your gift is daring: a silver vibrating egg, smooth and curved to nestle inside me. It scares me a little, the audacity of it, but it excites me too much to ignore. My pussy tingles, my body humming with anticipation, and I decide to play along, eager to be your naughty girl tonight.
In the bathroom, I’m getting ready, starting with my hair. I brush my long waves, curling them softly to frame my face, knowing you’ll love how they bounce when I move for you. I moisturize my skin, hands gliding over my body, making it soft and silky. I rub my perky boobs, fingers trailing down my tight thighs, inching toward my wet kitty, aching to play but holding back—it’s not time yet. Swimming has shaped my body beautifully—toned legs from endless kicks in the pool, a firm ass and strong core from those grueling practices, my figure athletic yet feminine, curves accentuated by the discipline. I apply shimmering lotion to my toned legs, making them glow, imagining your hands running up them later. I decide to surprise you with a new cut down there, grabbing my razor to shave my pussy smooth, leaving a neat little landing strip that’ll drive you wild. The blade glides over my skin, and I’m thinking of you—your strong hands, your voice, the way you’ll admire me. My clit throbs, my pussy’s dripping, and I’m so turned on, feeling like your perfect partner, ready to make you lose control. I slide the egg into my kitty, gasping as it fills me, buzzing softly. I’m excited and so naughty, my body tingling with anticipation.
The party’s a cozy gathering in the cabin, wine glasses clinking by the flickering fireplace, plates of bites scattered on the wooden table. My girlfriends and I lounge on the plush couches next to the fire, the warmth seeping into my skin, especially my inner thighs where the heat feels so pleasant—like a gentle caress, relaxing my muscles and heightening every sensation, making me hyper-aware of the egg nestled inside me. Their chatter is lighthearted, sharing giggles about school drama and crushes, the fire’s glow casting a soft, inviting energy over us all—they’re ready to let loose in this secluded spot. Victoria, my BFF from a rich Christian family, is a bit of a prude—saving herself for marriage, always preaching about virtue—but I’ve caught her sneaky peeking at me in the locker room, her eyes lingering when she thinks no one’s watching. She’s always been the know-it-all leader of our group, but lately, she’s losing her influence over me, and I can tell it bugs her, especially with you in the picture. Deep down, I sense her internal conflict—her strict upbringing clashing with a buried curiosity, making her both judgmental and envious, her sermons masking a fear of her own desires.
You arrive looking irresistible—tall and commanding at over 6 feet, your white skin glowing under the cabin lights, blonde hair tousled just right, piercing green eyes locking onto me with that intense, admiring gaze. Your 5 o’clock shadow beard adds a rugged edge, and you’ve rolled up the sleeves of your fitted black shirt, showing off those strong forearms that make me weak. Your muscular frame fills out your jeans perfectly, hinting at the power beneath. “I like your new haircut,” you say, your voice warm and appreciative. I purr like a playful kitty, leaning close, “Wait until you really see my new cut,” my voice teasing, eyes glinting with mischief, hinting at the surprise below.
As the night unfolds, your hands find me, gentle yet bold—cupping my boobs softly, fingers brushing my nipples through the dress, sending sparks through me, then squeezing my ass with a playful slap that makes my skin tingle. Your touch lingers on my hips, tracing my curves, making me feel desired and alive. Some girls notice, whispering with smiles, “Look at how he touches her!” and “They’re so into each other, it’s hot!” Their eyes sparkle with envy and warmth, wanting that kind of connection. You’re playing with the remote, making the egg in my pussy vibrate in teasing pulses, and I’m squirming on the couch, thighs clenching, fighting soft moans as pleasure builds. I’m feeling naughty yet cherished, loving how you’re teasing me in this intimate setting. We make an excuse—we need to grab the cake from the kitchen—and slip away. I take the cake out of the fridge, and you step behind me, voice low, “It looks delicious, and I’m dying for a bite.” You push me gently against the fridge, kissing my neck, your warm breath sending shivers down my spine, your bulge pressing against my ass through the dress. I’m melting, ready to lift it and let you take me right there, so close to my friends, my pussy soaking at the thought. But Victoria interrupts, her voice curious yet edged with discomfort, “What’s taking so long?” You pull back, smirking, “We shouldn’t keep the guests waiting,” and I’m left breathless, aching for you.
Back by the fire, I’m opening presents, trying to act normal while you secretly make the egg vibrate harder. My face flushes, my body trembling, and I’m loving the thrill of being your secret toy. You lean in, voice low, “Do you like my present?” My heart races, and I lift my dress, revealing my trimmed pussy—pink, swollen, glistening, the landing strip perfect. “How do you like my new cut?” I purr, echoing our earlier tease. You growl, “It’s gorgeous, baby. Time to blow the candle,” your eyes burning with hunger and admiration, making me feel like the center of your world. My friends gasp, whispering with excited giggles, “She’s so bold!” and “He can’t take his eyes off her!” One mutters, “Goals, honestly.” I know you want me, and I’m dripping for it.
Your bulge is growing in your pants, thick and obvious, and my mouth fills with saliva, craving you. The girls notice, whispering with smiles, “Look at that, he’s so ready for her!” and “God, they’re gonna combust!” Their eyes are wide, playful jealousy in the air, while Victoria glares softly, her prim face tight, a storm of emotions brewing—jealousy of my freedom, shame at her own stirring arousal, and a deep-seated fear of losing control. I drop to my knees on the rug, unzipping you to suck your massive cock, licking the tip slow, tasting your precum, swirling my tongue around the head before deepthroating until I gag, spit dripping, showing off with passion. Victoria snaps, “Stop, think about what you’re doing!” but she doesn’t undress immediately, trying to resist, her hands clenched as she watches me worship you, her breaths quickening with a mix of horror and forbidden excitement. The girls cheer me on gently, “You go, girl!” and “That’s how you love your man!” breaking her defenses slowly. She shifts, her face flushing, and I see her hand slip between her thighs, touching herself discreetly, her guilt evident in her trembling fingers. I pull off your cock for a second, smirking at her, “Jesus can’t save you now, Victoria. The only way to resist the temptation is to submit to it.” (Thanks, Oscar Wilde.) Her eyes widen, the words piercing her core, stirring a whirlwind of shame, desire, and self-doubt; eventually, she gives in, slowly peeling off her clothes with shaky hands, revealing her pale, slim body—perky tits, flat stomach, and an untamed bush around her pussy, wild and natural, a clear sign of her virgin status, untouched and innocent, her vulnerability amplifying her inner turmoil.
I spread my legs wide on a plush chair, revealing quite the view of my glistening pussy to her, making a calling gesture with my fingers like I’m beckoning a pet. “Come here and take the toy out,” I command softly, my voice laced with authority that thrills me, knowing I’m pushing her boundaries. She crawls on the floor, her head dipping into my crotch, humiliated yet intrigued, pulling the buzzing egg from my dripping pussy, her fingers slick, then licks my swollen lips and clit. It feels so good, her tongue tentative then eager, and I encourage her, “You’re such a good girl, Victoria, just like that.” The words make her flush deeper, a tear escaping as she grapples with the degradation and the unexpected spark of pleasure, her licks more devoted despite the churning guilt from her upbringing.
After that, I turn around in the chair, grabbing the back for support, my feet planted on the seat, ass up and presented. The view is beautiful—my toned bottom bent over, cheeks spread slightly, my pussy ready to be ravished, pink and wet, framed by my athletic legs, the firelight dancing on my skin. You stand behind me, and with one powerful thrust, your big dick is all inside me, stretching me wide in a rush of heat and fullness. It feels incredible, baby—like a shock of pleasure, my walls gripping you tight, every inch filling me completely, sending sparks through my body. You grab my hips, fingers digging in, and start fucking me harder, each slam deep and rhythmic, making me moan louder, my toned body rocking with yours. The girls whisper, “Fuck, look at her take it!” and “He’s railing her so hard!” and “She’s loving every second!” and “God, her body’s insane!” and “They’re unstoppable!” their voices a mix of awe and envy, fueling the heat.
Victoria watches, touching herself, moaning softly, her eyes wild with jealousy and inner conflict—she’s horny, impressed by how I take you, but terrified too, her Christian values screaming against the raw heat, yet her body betraying her with waves of unwanted arousal. She cums, a pathetic whimper, her body shaking, face flushed, gasping for air as she processes her pleasure mingled with profound shame, wishing she were me yet hating herself for it. I cum hard on your dick, screaming, my pussy pulsing around you, my body trembling as waves of ecstasy crash over me, a surge of triumph washing over me as I see her broken resolve.
Victoria, still shaking, tries to pull her panties back on, her hands fumbling with embarrassment, but I snatch them away, tossing them aside. “You won’t be needing these for your next lesson,” I say, my voice sharp with authority, a thrill running through me at the thought of being the first to claim her ass, mixed with a fleeting pang of empathy for her vulnerability. I make her lie on the table on her back, spreading her cheeks wide, her virgin white ass exposed and vulnerable. I grab a big candle from the birthday cake, thick and smooth, and pour wine all over her body, the red liquid splashing across her perky tits, trickling down her flat stomach, dancing over her untamed bush toward her crotch and ass. The scene is filthy—Victoria on the table, legs up, body glistening with wine, her breasts heaving, the liquid pooling in her navel before dripping over her tight hole, her body trembling as I use the wine and her pussy juices as lube, slowly shoving the candle into her virgin ass. She gasps, a sharp cry escaping her, “Oh god, no!” her voice breaking as she struggles to take it, her smug tone gone, replaced by whimpers, her untamed bush framing her fear, tears streaming as she confronts the humiliation, her faith clashing violently with the intrusive pleasure.
I climb on top of her, facing her in an intimate sandwich position, my body pressed against hers—her breasts soft and perky against mine, our pussies touching in a slick, electric contact, her ass trying to stretch around the candle below while I hover above. It feels intense, baby—her warmth beneath me, our bodies aligned, her wide eyes meeting mine as you stand behind, sliding into my ass, her gaze filled with awe, fear, and a reluctant spark of connection amid the degradation. Your big dick fills my butt completely, a sweet burning pleasure that radiates through me, every inch stretching me with a delicious intensity, making me moan as I glance over Victoria, her eyes locked on mine, brimming with conflicted emotions. You thrust slow at first to tease, then hard and relentless, pulling my hair harder, messing it up as you pound me. I moan, “Fuck my ass, baby!” feeling powerful yet connected, showing her up while our bodies press together, her breasts rubbing against mine, our pussies grazing with every thrust, her whimpers mixing shame and emerging desire. The girls whisper, “Holy shit, they’re stacked like that!” and “She’s taking it in the ass like a queen!” and “Look at Victoria’s face, she’s shook!” and “This is wild, they’re both so hot!” and “I need a man like that!” their voices dripping with excitement and envy.
You cum deep in my ass, hot and thick. After the climax, I climb over her face, commanding, “Clean it.” She licks the cum dripping from my ass, her face a vivid picture of conflicted emotions. Her pale cheeks are flushed a deep pink, her usually prim features contorted with a mix of humiliation and reluctant arousal. Her wide, doe-like eyes, normally so self-assured, are glassy with unshed tears, darting nervously as she processes the taste of you—salty, warm, and overwhelming—mixed with the musky scent of my ass, her mind reeling with guilt and forbidden thrill. Her lips tremble, glossy from the act, and her brows are furrowed, a crease of shame etched between them. Yet, there’s a flicker of guilty curiosity, her Christian upbringing warring with the raw desire sparked by this forbidden moment, leaving her soul torn. Her breaths come in shallow, uneven gasps. The girls are buzzing with shock and tipsy glee. “Oh my god, Victoria’s actually doing it!” one giggles, her wine glass tipping precariously. “Look at her face, she’s dying inside!” another chuckles, her eyes gleaming with playful amusement. “Never thought miss goody-two-shoes would be eating ass!” a third chimes in, her tone laced with envy and teasing. “She’s her bestie’s pet now!” and “This is better than any movie!” they laugh, their words light but sharp, fueling the electric atmosphere and deepening Victoria’s mortification.
“Now clean his cock,” I order. My heart races as I watch Victoria on her knees before my man, her lips struggling to wrap around your thick cock, her inexperience so raw it’s almost endearing. I feel a surge of triumph, my body thrumming with power as I orchestrate this scene, her wide eyes flickering with nervous effort while I stand close, your strong hand resting on my ass, pulling me into a deep, hungry kiss. The sight of her gagging softly, trying so hard to please him, ignites a fire in me—her struggle is mine to mold. I grab her hair gently but firmly, guiding her head with a slow, deliberate rhythm, teaching her how to take him deeper, my voice low and commanding, “Relax, just like this.” As she finally finds her pace, taking him fully, a wave of accomplishment washes over me, mingled with intense arousal. She sucks you thoroughly, her pride shattered, fresh tears welling as she submits, her inner voice screaming in protest yet silenced by the intoxicating pull of surrender. You hold my ass with your muscular hand, claiming me while she’s on her knees. I feel like a queen, my body still tingling from your cum, your hand gripping me possessively. I’m tipsy on power and pleasure, my pussy throbbing from the intensity, reveling in Victoria’s transformation with a complex mix of triumph and subtle concern for her emotional state, knowing I’ve pulled her into this wild world and forever altered our friendship.
The party’s winding down, my hair messy, the air thick with sex and the scent of wine. I’m a bit tipsy, feeling like a proud lioness, your arm on my ass. I stand Victoria up, grabbing her hair gently but firmly, pulling her close. “You’re my slave now, Victoria,” I whisper, my voice dripping with authority, sensing her shiver with a blend of dread and unspoken longing. “You’ll worship me, please me, maybe him if you’re good. Be my toy, and you’ll learn to love it, even if it breaks you first.” As the night deepens, most of the girls drift upstairs to sleep, their footsteps fading into the quiet cabin. Viktoria tries to slip past me, her movements quick and furtive, but I catch her arm. “Not so fast, princess,” I say, my voice low and teasing. She freezes, eyes wide like a deer in headlights, her earlier confidence crumbling under my gaze, a fresh wave of humiliation washing over her. I smirk, relishing the flush of humiliation on her face. “Give my lips a good night kiss,” I demand. She leans in, trembling, and presses a shaky kiss to my mouth, her lips carrying the faint, musky taste of you—salty and warm, a lingering reminder of her submission that sends a jolt of power through me, deepening my connection to you both. I laugh softly, lifting my dress with a playful tilt of my head. “Not these lips, silly.” Her eyes glisten with unshed tears, but she sinks to her knees, her tongue tentative at first, sending shivers racing through me, her submission laced with deep emotional turmoil—shame, arousal, and a budding acceptance. I savor her surrender, my fingers tangled in her hair as her once-smug demeanor dissolves into raw, desperate reverence. My body arches, each eager flick of her tongue igniting electric sparks that course through me, her gaze a potent mix of shame and desire. It pushes me over the edge, a shuddering climax tearing through me, leaving me breathless and triumphant. With a sharp smack to her ass, the sound echoing in the still cabin, I nod toward the stairs, dismissing her with a thrill of command. As she climbs the stairs, I watch her move awkwardly, wincing with every step, the candle still protruding from her like a naughty reminder, her face flushed with shame and lingering arousal, the burning sensation in her ass—a raw, stinging heat that makes her clench and gasp, each step a painful echo of her humiliation and inner conflict. I call after her, “Don’t forget to light a candle for tonight’s prayer, Viktoria.” I smirk, watching her eyes widen in humiliation as she disappears upstairs. The girls hoot from their doors, “She’s your girl now!” and “Sweet dreams!” I’m unstoppable, smacking your arm playfully, thinking, “I’ll have so much fun with you this weekend.”