A few years ago my company closed its doors–for good. Just Fucking Great! I was really pissed about this turn of events; this job was the only reason I moved to Minnesota from my home in Phoenix. My career as a director of creative services had come to an end and so did the great salary. Now I had to do a career search and come up with another way to make a living.

Fortunately, I had some money in stocks and a nice amount in the bank, so I wasn’t in a real panic yet. I was sitting at my computer working on resumes when my phone rang. It was a friend of mine from Phoenix, Jennifer, who also worked in an ad agency. As a matter of fact, she took my old position at my former agency. She said everything was going great in Arizona and she read about our company’s acquisition by an East Coast magnate. I told Jennie that I lost my job. It was eliminated, as were around 70 others, all a part of getting rid of the competition. Corporate raiders!

Jennie and I talked for an hour reminiscing about the old days, but she knew I would be strapped for cash soon, and got to the point of her phone call. She asked me if I was still in great shape. I told her I was still running and playing sports. Jennie had this proposal for me. “Sammie,” she said, “I know this old coot that lives in Fountain Hills, real rich and real eccentric.” I thought, Oh no, here it comes, prostitution. She went on to explain how she met this old guy at a fundraiser a few months ago. She said he was a total gentleman but had an odd request that made her think of me right away. The old gentleman wanted a so-called pretty couple, a man and a woman, to engage in making love in front of him at his home. He was a widower and wanted to relive the days of his long-faded youth. Interesting–and strange–to say the least. Jennie told me how much the old gentleman was going to pay.
“Holy Shit!” I yelled. That kind of money would see me through the tough times ahead and then some! I accepted it not knowing the full set of details, a large mistake.
A short week later, I left the Minnesota winter behind and flew to Phoenix, excited and nervous about the whole weird situation. Jennie met me at Sky Harbor Airport where the temperature was a balmy 83 degrees and very sunny. When you leave an area that is 15 degrees above zero and walk into the Arizona heat, it hits you like the opened door of a blast furnace. It felt great to be home again. I stayed at Jennie’s for a few days. She has a great husband and two adorable kids. We went visiting some of my old friends, and went out for dinner. All the while I had this nagging feeling that something really strange lay ahead for me with this old gentleman’s request. Late Friday night Jennie and I sat and talked a long time. She filled me in on the details for my Saturday at Fountain Hills.

Saturday afternoon rolled around and Jennie took me to the Hyatt in downtown Phoenix and let me out at the carport.
“Relax Sammie,” she said as I got out of her car, “Call me when you want to come home.” I nodded and grabbed her hand.
“This will be interesting–I hope!” I turned to look around. A black stretch limo was parked a few cars ahead with a chauffeur waiting near the back door.
“Samantha?” he waved.
“Yes, I am,” I returned.
“Mr. Briggs is expecting your company,” he replied, and opened my door. I got in feeling very much like a VIP. The driver said his name was Max, and he told me that Mr. Briggs had prepared a videotape for me. Max rolled up the privacy window, and I pushed the play button on the small machine and sat back to watch.

An elderly man in his seventies or so was sitting in front of a large bookcase filled with legal editions, the kind you see in a lawyer’s office. His face was weathered and painful but he also looked kind and understanding. He was seated in an old leather-bound high-backed chair. In front of him was a huge, old-world desk with a small relic of a lamp barely glowing any light. The room was dimly lit and dead quiet. The old gentleman had an oxygen tube under his nose and spoke in a raspy voice that told me he had seen healthier days. He spoke to me as though I was a dear friend he hadn’t seen in a long time. But he was also very formal, referring to me as “Samantha,” and that part made me a little nervous. He went on to explain why I was invited, which I already knew, but he said there would be a slight twist to the event. There would be others there to watch and they, too, would increase the “purse,” as he put it. Suddenly I felt like a boxer just before the main event. Mr. Briggs also said I could, “back out at any time.” The driver, Max, had the privacy window rolled up for the entire ride and didn’t hear the tape. I didn’t know what to do. I took too long thinking about it and soon we pulled up to a large wrought iron gate. Max reached up to the visor and pushed a button. The gate slowly swung open and we drove through. It wasn’t a home, it was a mansion.
“Oh my God,” I said. There had to be at least a dozen limos parked in the long looping driveway. Some were black, some white, some gold and some had personalized plates. But all the cars said “Money.” Max pulled up to the open area in front of the mansion, got out and opened my door. I stepped out of the limo and the front door to the mansion opened. The butler said welcome and I walked in. The place was empty of people and quiet. I could hear my heels click on the mirror-like marble floor as I walked. The well-dressed butler introduced himself as James and told me to follow him. We ascended a long spiraling staircase to the spacious second floor. I stared at the large chandelier suspended from the center of a cathedral-like ceiling, my heels echoing, click, click, as I climbed the stairway. Damn, it looked like crystal. We walked down a long hallway with rare and original paintings and stopped in front of a tall solid-oak door. The butler opened it, and I walked in.
“Everything is laid out for you in the bathroom, Samantha,” he said. “I’ll wait for you outside this door.”
I stood in this beautiful guest bedroom trying to make common sense of this. But, it was too overwhelming and I decided to just go with the flow. I sat on this huge antique bed that was so soft, I sank into it nearly a foot deep. It was so comfortable that I just laid back and stared at the ceiling daydreaming about what may be ahead on this bizarre Saturday afternoon. I was going to make a lot of money, so I shouldn’t be worried, and Mr. Briggs seemed like a very nice gentleman. I got up and headed for my bathroom to see what was laid out for me. I opened the door.
“Holy shit,” I whispered. This bathroom was almost as big as my living room in Minneapolis. The huge wall mirrors were modern as was the lighting. There were three antique sitting chairs from the last century placed neatly against the back wall spaced about six feet apart. Each was positioned facing the mirrors in front of me. A door on the far side of the bathroom opened and three men wearing tuxedos silently walked in and each sat in their designated chair. Each man held an antique mask to his face so his identity was unknown, except perhaps each other.
“Hello Samantha,” the man in the middle said, “Please undress.” This had to be part of the strange twist Mr. Briggs was referring to and with trembling fingers and shaking hands I began to undress.
“You’re quite beautiful,” the man on the near end commented. I looked in his dark eyes and nervously smiled in appreciation.
“We’re not allowed to touch the players,” explained the man on the far end. I removed my blouse and folded it, placing it on the long marble vanity next to a very old red corset, a pair of burgundy panties, a pair of black stiletto high heels, and nylons, which I would change into. Next I reached behind me unclasping my bra.
“Beautiful breasts, Samantha,” the man in the middle whispered. I placed my bra on top of my blouse, and slowly massaged my breasts, lightly pinching my nipples. Now I was getting turned on. My God, I thought as I looked in the mirror, I do have a nice body. I could feel that familiar dampness between my legs as I unsnapped my slacks and pulled down the zipper.

The man in the middle had the best view, for I was standing only a few feet directly in front of his chair. I slowly pulled my slacks down and stepped out of them. His gaze was on my ass and both of us were breathing a little faster now. I was really starting to get into this, and slipped my hands into my panties. My fingers were at my warm moist pussy immediately. I slowly rubbed my warm wet slit and quietly moaned. I began to slowly hump my hand, flexing my butt as I did. My mystery man in the middle was beginning to show signs of an erection as he squirmed and crossed his legs to hide it. I continued to stare at him in the mirror as I pleasured myself. The crotch of my panties was soaked as I withdrew my hands and dripping wet fingers. I smeared my juice on the mirror in front of me.

My middleman stood up abruptly signaling the other two it was time to leave. His erection was very telling. The two left but he lingered behind and approached the wet mirror. He leaned forward struggling to keep his mask in place, only inches from the juice on the glass; his long tongue slowly lapped it. His nose whiffed my scent, “Beautiful,” he whispered, then turned and walked out into a dark hallway closing the door behind him.

I was a little embarrassed as I removed my drenched panties and placed them next to my clean pile of clothes. Holding the old red corset was strange. It felt ancient probably from the early eighteenth century and maybe from France or England. I unlaced it and put it over my body. It was a struggle to lace back up, but they were made in a time when women were judged by how small their waist was. I tucked my breasts into the cups and turned my attention to the rest of my costume. The nylons and red panties were new, which seemed strange, given how old the corset was. But I was sure Mr. Briggs wanted it this way and sat down on the middle chair after fitting my new panties and pulled the nylons on. The last piece of this costume was a pair of black stilettos with very high spiked heels. The heels were almost to the point of being sharp, and made of black-dyed ivory. I stood at the mirror and nervously studied my appearance. I took a long shaky breath of air and approached that far dark door to what awaited me.

I walked out of the bathroom and into a hallway. The floor was made of hardwood, and off to my right was nothing but darkness. I turned to my left and could see a well lit room at the end of this hallway and headed in that direction. The closer I got, the more apparent the room became. It was actually a large photography studio. My heart was racing and I could hear people in conversations. I stopped briefly at the doorway, very nervous but also anxious to get started. “I could back out at any time,” kept going through my head. Who was my partner for this? Oh my God! I hadn’t even thought of that aspect of this. I remembered Mr. Briggs wanted a “beautiful” couple, which relaxed me a little. But for me to have sex with a perfect stranger, someone I didn’t even know? I took a deep breath and entered the studio.

I have never performed for anybody. I’ve never stripped or danced in front of a crowd. There was a group of about 20 very well dressed people off to the darker side of this huge studio. All were wearing the same kind of masks that my three bathroom men were wearing. The women had evening gowns on and were adorned with expensive jewelry. Each hairdo was done to perfection, like the ones at the Oscars show for Hollywood. They all looked very wealthy. Every man there had a tuxedo on, all in black tie with polished shoes. They stopped talking and studied me. “She is the best one yet,” said a woman in the back of the group. A man in the front close to me asked, “Do we all get a copy of this?” I glanced around the front of the studio. There were three high tech movie cameras on tripods. One near the foot of a large modern bed. Another off to the right side near the middle, and one near the headboard on the left side. The bed was the centerpiece and I was clearly a performer. There were two photographers there also. One was setting up lights and the other was busy at a table that was cluttered with cameras. I quickly glanced around. Not a single window in the place, total privacy. A door in the back of the dim studio opened and I could hear the whine of an electric wheelchair. Mr. Briggs slowly passed through the parting crowd and motored up to me.

He stopped at my feet and held both hands out. Smiling, he grasped my hands and welcomed me. I felt funny as I looked down at him in this contraption. I didn’t notice the crowd part as my partner came in. I heard that same woman in the back call him by some name, but couldn’t make it out. Mr. Briggs called for a person to come forward. This man also wore a mask and held a document and a pen. Mr. Briggs took the document and explained its contents. It was a full disclosure agreement on preserving the copyrights to all materials and parties concerned. I would also have at my disposal the right to publish anything that is agreed upon by all parties. I signed the document and handed it back to Mr. Briggs. I was swept up in the moment and thought I knew what I was doing. Mr. Briggs scooted away in his electric wheelchair and signaled with a wave of his hand. The lights in the back of the studio went to a dull glowing red. The crowd seemed to be swallowed into the darkness. The photographers got into their positions and a ruggedly great looking man wearing a robe approached me. All my nerves had disappeared as this hunk of man was now arousing me.

He looked like the guy from the old Marlborough cigarette ads. Wow! I said to myself, this is going to be great. I was now wearing damp new panties. I approached the bed not taking my eyes off this guy. He stood about six feet four, and was very broad in the shoulders. Jet-black, wavy, long hair gave him the look of a pirate and I lost myself when I looked into his steel gray eyes. We stopped at the foot of the large bed facing each other, only a few feet apart. Everything and everyone in the room became a distant memory. He was all that mattered now. My breath came in short spurts as I held out my arms for him to fill. My stomach was full of butterflies and it felt like my heart was beating in my ears. I didn’t even notice that Mr. Briggs had turned the sound system on and a symphony of sensual music softly played in the background. The tall handsome stranger came into my arms and held my face, staring deep into my eyes his lips melted into mine. My knees almost buckled. My own common sense had abandoned me. I no longer thought of the, “Back out at any time.” I was hopelessly lost in the bizarre event.

His tongue explored my hungry mouth, washing his flavor everywhere. I was totally his. The rugged hands held my waist as he finally pressed against my body. I wrapped my arms around his neck sucking his thick tongue and panting through my nose as the dampness in my panties became warm and wet. His hands went to the top of my ancient corset and started to hold and squeeze breasts through the rough material. My nipples were rock hard and huge. Every nerve ending in my body was on high alert, as his hand began a long arduous journey to the lower parts of my quivering body. I had no sense of us still standing at the foot of the bed as I unlocked my arms from around his neck and began to peel off his robe, rubbing and feeling his chest muscles. “Oh my God,” I whispered under my breathing. I broke our embrace when I felt his manhood thump against my leg. I quickly stepped back and tore open his robe.

I was suddenly jolted back to reality. I was holding his robe wide open and looking at his cock. That’s when I heard the people and really saw the photographers. I could sense some of the women were getting closer to our stage and a few of the men chuckled. I guess I had a look of horror on my face, as I stood there with my jaw gaping. It looked like an arm was hanging from his groin. It became abundantly clear why I was here. They wanted to see a total fucking. Those rich people paid to see a pretty woman get fucked by this guy’s big Horsecock. I tore my gaze from his organ and glanced at the crowd, my mouth still hanging open and no words coming out. I didn’t see Mr. Briggs anywhere in the room. I looked down at the huge cock again, then into my partner’s eyes. They were now ice cold and filled with a sense of purpose. The only thing that came out of my mouth was, “Oh my God.”

He held me against him so his cock could feel between my thighs. But I didn’t push him away. I turned to him and started to press my hips against it and grabbed a handful of his wavy black hair and pulled his mouth into mine. I purposely bit his lip to draw blood and he tried to pull away, but my teeth had a deep grip on his upper lip. I really yanked his head using both hands and turned the tables on his private cheering section. I let go of his hair and looked into his surprised eyes, reached slowly down to his crotch and cupped his large balls and roughly squeezed them. His face was a circus of confusion; he looked to be pleading as I forcefully pulled down on his big ball sac. God, his cock was really getting big. I knew I had to be in charge of this so-called fucking. I pushed him onto the bed flinging his robe into the crowd and knelt between his knees with my ass to the crowd. They could see how wet my pussy was and I could feel it trickle down the inside of my thigh. My face was directly over his cock. I studied this man’s phallus.

“Jesus,” I whispered. It was truly the headliner of this show. It was halfway to erect and easily twice the size of anything I’ve ever seen. God, it’ll never fit. I bent down, letting my long black hair cascade around the organ and balls. He gasped when I quickly went at it with my open mouth, planting my tongue where his cock and balls met. My hands held each powerful thigh as my tongue traced the entire length, stopping to flick the head of this beast. It rolled back and forth like a log. I raised my head to see he had his eyes closed, and his head was tilted back as he rested on propped up elbows. This guy was really turned on. His chest was heaving with each desperate breath of air he could steal. I shocked him back to reality when he felt my teeth nibble on his smooth hairless ball sac. I gave him a long wicked smile.

My hand was holding the massively thick organ and I dug my sharp nails into it just a little to see him grimace in pain. My fingers were a couple inches away from encircling this blood-engorged shaft. It was firm but not hard, and a lot thicker than my own wrist. I was turned on as I pumped his cock and looked in his eyes. “You hurt me and I’ll shred this thing to ribbons.” I whispered. “Do you understand?” He quickly nodded his approval and began rapidly gasping as I let him feel how razor-sharp my nails were against his balls. I couldn’t believe I was doing this. I thought to myself: I have the power and now control the entire room. Now it was time to give these people what they paid for. It was a lot of money and I didn’t come here to leave empty-handed.

I stood above him and removed the old corset, tossing it at a photographer who nearly dropped his camera to catch the prize. I felt my co-star lightly caress my ankle. My eyes were glued to his cock. It hung over his thigh, well over a foot long with thickly pronounced veins stretching the entire length. God, this guy was a freak of nature, and as far as I know he’s never been in mainstream porn. Only in the private, really expensive shows that the rich enjoy, like this bizarre event at Briggs’s. Hell they can buy anything. I sat between his feet and removed the sharp stilettos, flinging them against a nearby wall making a mark as each one hit. I knew there was a flood of pussy juice just waiting for this guy’s big cock.

My drenched panties were off next and I flung them at the nearest tuxedo in a mask. I swear they made a splat sound when they hit. That made it clear to everyone that this cock would be in my cunt. I rolled each nylon down slowly and brought them up to my sopping wet cunt, then tossed them into the huddle of observers. I knelt back down between his legs, taking his cock in both hands; I began to slowly and gently stroke him while staring into his eyes. He propped himself up on his elbows again and stared back at me. We traded a quick smile and I got a warmer feeling about this man. I began to think about the size of this monster cock, and for the first time in my life, I wanted to measure a cock. I wanted to have a number that would go with this thing. I gently licked the head of his cock and fondled his balls. I laid his cock on his stomach and ran my tongue up and down the underside of the wide shaft; God there was a lot to work with. As I was licking his balls, I swung my leg over his head and lowered my pussy to his face.

He wrapped his strong arms around my narrow butt and slowly began to lick the insides of my soft silky thighs. Not the best I’ve ever felt, but he had promise, I thought. Besides, a guy with a cock this fucking colossal would be in high demand among the rich and horny. After bathing his balls for a while I turned my attention back to his salami. I laid my head on his stomach and struggled to get the head of his cock fully in my mouth, without scraping my teeth on his foreskin. It’s not very often I see a guy that’s uncircumcised. I held his heavy cock around the middle and pumped it while sucking. I could study the eyes behind all the masks as I labored on this organ, coating it with my warm saliva, and spreading it up and down the shaft. All of the tuxedos were sporting their own erections now. Soon he began to moan and hump his hips up and down. I pumped it faster and faster, squeezing it harder and harder, and pulled it out of my mouth with a loud slurp just as the first thick gobs flew out landing near his feet. His whole body became rigid as more ribbons of cum ejaculated from the tip. Now I sat up and pumped it with both hands. A jet of hot white cum landed on one of my nipples and some just oozed down my clenched hands. I really love to hold a cock as it cums, feeling it pulse and spasm. I kept stroking the head of it, smearing the hot thick liquid around the end of this massive thing.

I knew it was my turn now, so I sucked the remaining droplets of cum out of his cock and swung around to face him. He held me close and ran his hands around my back, then I kissed him and gave him a sweet taste of his own cum. I straddled his hips, sitting up, I reached behind me and grabbed his amazingly firm horsecock and stroked it some more. I was hoping there would be some pleasure connected with this guy. I knew it would be painful. I don’t have a canyon-sized cunt and an eight-incher can be uncomfortable to me. I remember everyone getting close to the bed for this action.

He gently massaged my breasts as I shimmied and squatted above the big organ. I had my feet on each side of his hips. I held it erect in one hand and balanced myself on his chest with the other hand, gripping my fingernails into both. Then I slowly lowered my sopping wet pussy onto this thing. The pressure at my pussy was immense. I ran the huge head of his cock up and down my dripping slit Maybe I’m not wet enough, I thought, but that wasn’t the case. I was totally drenched. His cock was that fucking big. I lowered my pussy a little more, as I felt his massive penis starting to bend, “Jesus Christ!” I screamed. Then I felt a scorching blast of pain rifle all the way through my groin, “Oh my God,” I screamed, and my hard breathing became squeals of agony as the head of his cock finally plunged in. My eyes bulged wide open and my mouth was silently gaping. I was impaled on his enormous phallus. I grabbed his chest with both hands and dug my nails in. He groaned and his head flung back. I was still squatting on his cock and got one leg into a kneeling position, then slowly got the other leg to rest with that cock firmly inside me. I looked down into his eyes. He could see the raw lust on my face.

I felt my lower lip quivering and could see my own tears start to well up in my eyes. Each slight movement I made echoed into pain for my blazing pussy. I forcefully dug my nails harder into his muscular clean-shaven chest and I felt him really wince. Looking down at him I noticed a few drops of blood trickle from my buried nails The more that cock hurt me, the more I’d hurt him, and he knew it. It almost looked like he wanted to apologize for being blessed with such a big piece of cockmeat. Just then one of my dark tears of pain fell silently onto his cheek, and I saw panic fill his eyes. I slowly leaned forward looking into his frightened gray eyes, face to face; I licked the tear from his smooth cheek and let my hand slowly snake down his stomach till I felt the organ that impaled me.

The crowd of masks was silent and I heard one woman gasp, “Oh my God,” as my fingers slowly wrapped girth of his cock, and the daggers went in. A howl of pain blasted out of his mouth, as was he gripped the sheets. I slowly turned my head to the stunned onlookers as another tear of pain ran down my blushed cheek; the gasping woman was now holding her white-gloved hand to the mouth hole of her mask. My gaze returned to the wounded stud and I withdrew my little knives from his bleeding organ. I bent forward to whisper in his ear, “This is the best pussy you’ll ever have in your sorry life.” And I began to lick the droplets of his cock’s blood off my long razor-sharp nails.

My hands returned to his chest with my nails firmly reminding him of his fate. I slowly sat back on his stomach and could feel his cock hadn’t lost any hardness at all; I slowly rocked forward and back feeling this huge thing spreading the width and depth of my cunt. I was quietly crying on each stroke of it, staring down into his eyes.

My pussy was above his stomach and his cock was more than a few inches deep. There was an unbelievable mix of pain and pleasure. He didn’t dare move; he felt my nails imbedded in his chest. I bit down on my lower lip and slowly began to pump my hips again. No one uttered a word, they just watched in fascination as this woman’s pussy was pumping the end of his immense cock. The shear bulk of that thing was scary. It felt like it was getting thicker and more rigid—a lot more erect, in fact. I could feel my agonized pussy start to relax a little bit and his cock would slide in and out, a little easier. I released my death grip on his chest and bent down to kiss his mouth and bite his tongue. For me, the pleasure was now building and I wasn’t just fucking his horsecock now. But the painful size of it was always there. I tangled his tongue with mine and began my ritualistic song of moaning and gasping, as I took a little more of its great length. He held my hips and began to lick at my neck and ears, which is my weak spot. The pain and pleasure washed through my swollen pussy and I could hear how wet I was as his huge cock pumped in and out. My head felt like it was on a turntable, spinning and spinning, my whole body was flushed full of heat. I was holding my breath, then squealing loudly. I was taking his huge cock deeper and deeper.

I didn’t care who was there watching us. The only thing on my mind was this gigantic penis and the orgasm that was building and building. My strength was leaving me. I couldn’t hump his cock anymore. I was in a sexual daze, part cumming and part physical exhaustion from the size of that thing. The entrance to my pussy really burned. I knew I was torn, and I knew his cock was slightly gashed. Our blood was a fitting lubricant to this spectacle. He took over. I laid my head on his shoulder and hung on. He held my hips gently and slowly pumped my pussy. He had learned I liked it slow, and he really brought me to the edge of oblivion time after time. His broad shoulder was running with my tears as I raised my head up just little and looked at his profile. His eyes were clenched shut. His breathing was excited but labored. My fingers lightly touched his lips and he turned his head to look at me. I was only aware of my scalding pussy, his huge plunging cock. That’s when it showed up. That breathless, beautiful wave of hot ocean washed over my whole body as my orgasm began. He did everything right. He kept slowly pumping me as far as it could go. Then the first one hit, followed by a longer orgasm, and then it happened.

It hit my pussy like a hot hammer. An orgasm that rocked me to the core. First a huge wave of warm ecstasy followed by a gut wrenching spasm and a euphoric sexual high that went on and on. I felt my stuffed pussy gushing juice. Oh my God, I was passing out. I was vaguely aware of him coming inside of me. I felt his cock at the bottom of my pussy, throbbing and pulsing, filling me with warm cum. I reached under and sought out his cock. Only half in, only half in! The room went dizzy and then it was pitch-black.

I think I was incapacitated for some time as my senses gradually came into focus, one by one. I was still lying on top of my partner. My breasts were smeared with his blood. His spent cock was still in me, and still big, but not hard. My stretched pussy was a hot thick gooey mess. He was holding me and waiting for me to return. I raised my head and slowly panned the dark studio. The people weren’t there anymore, nor were the photographers. “Everyone left,” he said. “How long?” I asked. He said I was out for half an hour. I slowly got off his cock and felt the aftermath. There was a loud dull sucking noise as his cock left my gaping cunt and flopped over his hip. Oh God, was I sore! I rolled off him and onto my back with my legs spread wide apart. I raised my head up and looked down at my crotch. I reached down, and my hand explored. My pussy was stretched wide and empty. I raised my hand and studied the pink liquid, “Oh God,” I moaned. It was coated with blood and cum. His and mine. His cock did tear me a little when it first went in. I turned my head and looked at him lying on his back. His large bloody cock was at rest on his thigh and I could see the nasty gashes I had inflicted on it. I felt bad about it, but quickly remembered that he was a part of this dark ceremony. I slowly got up to leave.

My legs were very shaky and a large glob of smeary pink cum fell out of my gaping pussy, hitting the hardwood floor without making a sound. I stumbled my way to the bathroom, holding my crotch, desperately needing relief from the pain. Next to my neat stack of clothes was a large business envelope with the name Samantha on it. Inside was a copy of the signed document and a cashier’s check made out to me. The amount was more than what we agreed on. And there was a note from Mr. Briggs in longhand: “Thank you Samantha. Everyone agreed a performance like that will never be equaled. You have made a very old man happy. Love, Orson.” I took a long shower sitting down on the cold tile of the stall floor.

Max drove me to Jennie’s house, where I rested for a few days. Jennie never asked me for details, but I told her most of what happened. I got back home to Minnesota just before a blizzard hit. A few weeks later, I received a package from Mr. Briggs. Inside the box were copies of all the pictures from the two photographers on a DVD. Also included was a copy of the DVD movie, which I immediately removed from its case. I walked over to my entertainment center and put the disc in, got comfortable on my big sofa, sat back, and clicked the player on.

Everything unfolded on my big flat screen TV. It was beautifully filmed without any voice over; just the natural atmosphere was heard. Not a single title or credit would litter the screen. The feature opened with a distant view of Briggs’s mansion and the arrival of the various limos. This camera was too far away for me to see any of their faces as they exited their cars and entered the house. Next was a clip of me sitting in the back of the limo, watching Mr. Briggs’s video greeting. “Oh my God!” I said “They had cameras everywhere.” It surprised me to be watching myself on TV, but I was also a little pleased at how pretty I looked.
The movie then went to my partner’s bathroom with a shot of him facing the camera. He began undressing. Then it dawned on me that it was a camera behind a two-way mirror in his bathroom! While I was contemplating the hidden cameras, he had gotten to the part of sliding down his packed jockey shorts. I gasped as his cock swung down. I squirmed on the sofa and just stared at it. It hung down a good nine or ten inches, and it was still soft. My breathing was now quick and I was getting very wet. “God damn,” I quietly commented. That cock of his was simply awesome. Then he turned his back and retrieved something from his pants pocket. A pill, and he popped it into his mouth and swallowed it. I figured it had to be a Viagra to help him get that thing going. The movie promptly switched to my bathroom, with the same devious camera view. I looked very sumptuous as I put on my little strip show and felt pleased when I smeared my pussy juice on the mirror. I had marked my territory. Then I saw myself turn to the side and study the nice firm breasts, then the smooth ass and long legs. My eyes grew a little dark as if to say: You’re one sizzling Bitch. I watched myself walk away.

Someone in that crowd of elites had a hand held digital camera and caught me walking toward the bed as I stared open mouthed at his big swinging cock. My face was twisted in shock and I could hear myself muttering, “Oh my God,” over and over.

I hit the pause button on the remote and shook my head. I needed to calm down! My cunt was just drenched. I got up and went into my kitchen to get a bottle of water out of the fridge. My legs were weak and shaky; I was reliving the whole twisted event.

After I got my bottle of water, I went down the hall to my bathroom and got a bath towel. I needed it now. I quickly returned to my premiere, spreading the towel on the thick tan carpet in front of the sofa. I removed my clothes and sat naked on the towel with my legs spread wide open. I took a long drink of icy cold water and put the bottle down next to me, leaned back against my sofa and clicked the play button. The microphones picked up every whisper and detail.

I watched in excited fascination as I sucked his massive cock. I had more than just the head of that thing in my mouth, as I could hear myself gagging with a look of anger etched across my face. My hand was really pumping and squeezing his thick shaft, almost violently. I heard his moans coincide with my yanking of his cock, and my other hand was roughly kneading and squeezing his large balls. I didn’t remember being so brutal with him. The camera at the foot of the bed caught the first blast of cum whirling through the air at his feet, and second ribbon flew up into my hair and slowly strung down to my bare shoulder. The rest I pumped out into the sheet between his knees. I watched as I lowered my head to suck it some more.

I had my fingers thrusting in and out of my sopping pussy as I fumbled for the pause button again. My catch towel was wringing wet, and I was viciously humping my hand. I was coming, and I announced it to my walls. When I have a big orgasm, I have a flow of juice, and this was a biggie! I was lying on the carpet screaming and coating my fingers with an endless river of pussy sweat. Oh God, I wanted to feel a cock coming in me now.

I barely had the strength to turn the DVD player back on. I lay on the floor and continued to watch my spectacle. Sexual exhaustion was setting in, and I was mounting that incredible phallus.

His horsecock was twisting to enter my pussy, as squeals filled the studio. Suddenly a good four inches plunged in, and there was a long silence, total dead air; then an agonizing growl and a loud cry. Then I saw it. A small trickle of my blood appeared, slowly moving from my stretched pussy down his thick wet shaft. I sat in shock. I grimaced when I saw my own fingernails pierce the skin of his penis and squeeze into the meat of it. “Oh my God,” I gasped. His pain echoed throughout my living room.

One camera captured my face as I turned and glared into it. My face was strewn with dark tears but there was a look on that face which shook me to the deepest part of my soul. I looked wickedly evil, almost maniacal. I began to fear for all the lives in that room on the screen of my TV. I heard a few people hurry out of the studio at this point of the movie, and the sound of a distant door slamming closed. The camera switched to the bottom of the bed again. I was impaled on a huge bleeding cock, thrusting my pussy mercilessly onto it, over and over. Watching as it bent and snaked its way in and out, pulling and pushing my lips as they clung to it. I took a deep nervous breath and continued to watch as the woman onscreen ravaged his cock.

The DVD ended with me leaving Briggs’s place, then the screen went dark. I curled up on the sofa and cried myself to sleep hugging a pillow.

I woke up several hours later to an eerie quiet in my home. The TV was still on and still dark. I clicked it off and hit the reject button on the DVD player. The disc slid into view and I quickly grabbed it, putting it back into the clear plastic case, snapping it shut. I could see Briggs’s box that he sent me, still on the kitchen counter. I’d put this part of my life back into it and hide it in my closet. I put the case back into the box and noticed an envelope at the bottom.

The last item Mr. Briggs included was a hand written invitation to go to Jamaica in March, to spend a few weeks at his other home, and airline tickets for two. I sat on the sofa that night, listening to the sweet music of K.D. Lang’s song “Constant Craving” and staring out of my living room window into the dark cold Minnesota night, wondering about my horse-hung mystery man. And also what surprises I might find in a place like Jamaica.

I would get a mysterious phone call a few months later from a woman, who would not identify herself, only to say she was there at Briggs’s that afternoon. She went on to explain something about Mr. Briggs and his eccentricities. She said something that made me collapse onto my kitchen floor, and drop the phone. Briggs acquired that corset from a very private collector in France. He paid three million dollars for that corset. It was a beloved garment of the Marquis De Sade. All of his lovers were required to wear it.