much you like this. You’re dripping wet.”
Victoria enjoyed being filled. The build up of heat and the pressure always turned her on. As for knowing it was a fist? It was kinky and she would have been lying to say she didn’t want him to continue.
“You are never to tell anyone about this.” What she chose to do in private was just that.
“Of course. I promise. It’ll be our secret.” And he started to move his fist within.
“Oh God.” The fist inside her thrust in and out. The pain she first felt began to subside. It was replaced by something else and when the fingers on his free hand started to rub her clit as he pumped back and forth within her, the pain changed to pleasure.
“O-h-h-h…” Victoria spread her legs as wide as she could and bore down on the hand. Drunk or not she was going to enjoy this fuck.
Later on she would wonder if the unseen camera recording the moment would have made any difference at all.
Chapter One
Victoria hated public transport. Problem was, she had only so much money left and she had to conserve it for the week ahead in order to be able to get back home to Australia. Although she had a three month visa to visit the US, Victoria was over Resort City and the smug, knowing look of Andre. He had taken her in a primitive way and she had enjoyed it. She could hardly complain about it. Andre would just laugh and say she wanted it. Some men had class. Others were Andre. So where she could have stayed with him and saved money, the cost of that was too great. While she wasn’t in pain from the fisting, Victoria wasn’t about to invite him to take her in such a way again. If she had to economize and do things she loathed like taking the bus, eating packaged two minute noodles, and sleeping at the less than salubrious but definitely cheap Resort City Motel, then Victoria would. Lordy, the motel was tacky. And pink. Very, very pink. Salvatore, the owner of the motel, explained his wife liked pink so he painted it that color for her. Victoria thought it was a sweet yet ghastly pledge of his love. The plastic, albeit faded, flamingos that were placed less than strategically on the front lawn added to the pinkness.
From her seat on the bus, Victoria looked out the window at the passing scenery on the way back from the beach. Two weeks ago, it had seemed like a fantastic idea to leave her home town of Brisbane, Australia, to come to Resort City, Florida, to meet up with her pen pal Andre. They had been writing to each other since they were eight years old. Now, at twenty-seven, it had seemed the right thing to finally meet up. Andre had volunteered to come to Australia. Victoria chose instead to go the United States as she had always wanted to but, up until now, she had no money to do so. On a whim, she cashed in her small nest egg and flew to Andre’s hometown. Resort City.
“What a dump,” Victoria muttered as the bus jerked to another halt to pick up passengers. The town was supposed to be direct competition to the city of Miami but at a fraction of the cost.
At least that’s what the travel agent had told Victoria when she booked. “What a load of crap.”
Victoria had taken the bus to a beach recommended by Salvatore. Only problem was it was a nudist beach and the red haired, very pale skinned, buxom—okay chubby–Victoria didn’t do naked well, let alone in the full glare of a burning sun. And, despite the brief attraction of one couple going down on each other in broad daylight where anyone could see, the beach was not a patch on those in Australia. But that’s what the experience of travel did. It made you appreciate what you had back home.
Victoria thought about Andre. The best word to sum him up was sleazebag. Really, what other name could be given to a so-called friend who got you drunk and naked, then shoves a fist up your cunt, then tells you the whole episode had been filmed? More mortifying was the fact that Victoria, even in her drunken state, had enjoyed
Victoria enjoyed being filled. The build up of heat and the pressure always turned her on. As for knowing it was a fist? It was kinky and she would have been lying to say she didn’t want him to continue.
“You are never to tell anyone about this.” What she chose to do in private was just that.
“Of course. I promise. It’ll be our secret.” And he started to move his fist within.
“Oh God.” The fist inside her thrust in and out. The pain she first felt began to subside. It was replaced by something else and when the fingers on his free hand started to rub her clit as he pumped back and forth within her, the pain changed to pleasure.
“O-h-h-h…” Victoria spread her legs as wide as she could and bore down on the hand. Drunk or not she was going to enjoy this fuck.
Later on she would wonder if the unseen camera recording the moment would have made any difference at all.
Chapter One
Victoria hated public transport. Problem was, she had only so much money left and she had to conserve it for the week ahead in order to be able to get back home to Australia. Although she had a three month visa to visit the US, Victoria was over Resort City and the smug, knowing look of Andre. He had taken her in a primitive way and she had enjoyed it. She could hardly complain about it. Andre would just laugh and say she wanted it. Some men had class. Others were Andre. So where she could have stayed with him and saved money, the cost of that was too great. While she wasn’t in pain from the fisting, Victoria wasn’t about to invite him to take her in such a way again. If she had to economize and do things she loathed like taking the bus, eating packaged two minute noodles, and sleeping at the less than salubrious but definitely cheap Resort City Motel, then Victoria would. Lordy, the motel was tacky. And pink. Very, very pink. Salvatore, the owner of the motel, explained his wife liked pink so he painted it that color for her. Victoria thought it was a sweet yet ghastly pledge of his love. The plastic, albeit faded, flamingos that were placed less than strategically on the front lawn added to the pinkness.
From her seat on the bus, Victoria looked out the window at the passing scenery on the way back from the beach. Two weeks ago, it had seemed like a fantastic idea to leave her home town of Brisbane, Australia, to come to Resort City, Florida, to meet up with her pen pal Andre. They had been writing to each other since they were eight years old. Now, at twenty-seven, it had seemed the right thing to finally meet up. Andre had volunteered to come to Australia. Victoria chose instead to go the United States as she had always wanted to but, up until now, she had no money to do so. On a whim, she cashed in her small nest egg and flew to Andre’s hometown. Resort City.
“What a dump,” Victoria muttered as the bus jerked to another halt to pick up passengers. The town was supposed to be direct competition to the city of Miami but at a fraction of the cost.
At least that’s what the travel agent had told Victoria when she booked. “What a load of crap.”
Victoria had taken the bus to a beach recommended by Salvatore. Only problem was it was a nudist beach and the red haired, very pale skinned, buxom—okay chubby–Victoria didn’t do naked well, let alone in the full glare of a burning sun. And, despite the brief attraction of one couple going down on each other in broad daylight where anyone could see, the beach was not a patch on those in Australia. But that’s what the experience of travel did. It made you appreciate what you had back home.
Victoria thought about Andre. The best word to sum him up was sleazebag. Really, what other name could be given to a so-called friend who got you drunk and naked, then shoves a fist up your cunt, then tells you the whole episode had been filmed? More mortifying was the fact that Victoria, even in her drunken state, had enjoyed
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