We’re late, but we made it! Chelsea and Arnold deal with the aftermath of their previous night and try to clean up. We’re gearing up for the holidays, and the close of Act 1 in a couple of weeks.
~Richard

---

Chelsea woke up the next morning with Arnold still wrapped around her. 

“Hey, you,” she said, as his eyes fluttered awake.

“Hey. How’re you doing?” he asked.

“Best night sleep I’ve gotten in years,” she nuzzled against his shoulder, then looked down. “Crap!”

“What’s wrong?”

She reached between his legs. He yelped when she squeezed his cock. Her hand slid around on the sheets. She grabbed the cockring and held it up. “I was worried you left this on all night, but here it is.”

Arnold laughed a little and held his hand out to take the ring and put it on the nightstand. “Want to go wash up and then grab breakfast?”

“Yeah, that sounds good. You’ve got that work thing today, right?”

“Mmmhmm. Game day at Bill’s. I heard he had a new guy, so we’ll have enough to do threesomes.”

“Without me?”

“I invited you.”

“I don’t play any game that requires more than one rulebook.”

“Fair enough.”

They got out of bed and stepped into the bathroom, Arnold waving her in first. She moaned softly as the hot water washed over her.

“That was something last night,” he said as he grabbed the loofah and squirted some body wash onto it.

“It was. Not too weird for you?”

“No,” he said, slowly starting to rub her back. “I wasn’t awkward?”

“Fuck no. You were hot as hell. Even though you called me a ‘protestant harlot’ or something,” she said with a giggle.

“It’s not my fault you said it wrong.”

“Well, you can beat it into me after your game tonight if you want,” she moaned softly as he worked his way down, nails dragging over the small of her back.

“Is that the kind of thing you used to do all the time?”

“Not that sort of thing specifically. But yeah, sometimes. Dress up, roleplay… Anything to get ordered around, honestly,” she flushed a little, not that you could tell under the hot water.

He worked quietly for a few minutes, kissing his way down her legs, then soaping them up, kneeling on the floor of the tub.

“What if I started bossing you around right now?” he asked.

“Usually the person getting bossed does the kneeling,” she said with a little smirk.

He stood up and handed her the loofah. “Then kneel down and clean my prick. You made it all messy last night.”

Chelsea blinked for a second. “Okay!” she said, dropping down and soaping it up. It started to harden and she grinned, stroking it faster. “Am I getting it nice and clean?”

“You are, but I think it’s going to make a mess again pretty soon.”

“That’s okay. You shouldn’t have wasted your time cleaning a nasty little slut like me. Just shoot it all over me and no one will even know the difference. I’m just a fucking cumrag. You shouldn’t waste this beautiful cum down the drain, just spray it all over me instead and mark your bitch. I’d rim your asshole but I’m pretty sure even it is cleaner than this worthless disgusting fuckslut could ever be.”

Arnold gasped as ropes of cum sprayed out of his cock, striping Chelsea’s face. She moaned softly, her tongue reaching for all it could before she used her free hand to scoop up the rest.

“Mmmm, perfect breakfast. Should we go get brunch now?”

He stared down at her. “Ummm yeah… that’d be fine… I’ll go get dressed.” He stepped out and toweled off, quickly dressing while she finished up and did the same.

Might’ve overdone it a little at the end there, she thought to herself.

They slipped down the the car and Arnold put his hand on her knee, rubbing it slowly.

“Everything okay, babe?” he asked.

Her stomach rumbled. “Nothing an omelet and some hashbrowns won’t fix,” she said.

“You were pretty down on yourself in there. That’s not really what you think, is it?”

Chelsea put her hand over his and gave it a squeeze. “Of course not, honey. It’s just dirty talk. People say all kinds of crazy shit in the moment. I had a friend that would’ve agreed to light herself on fire if you asked her with a vibrator on her clit. One time I fucked a guy who lost the ability to talk for about 20 minutes once he got it in. Which I guess is less likely to lead to you saying anything embarrassing, but probably weirder now that I think about it.”

“I don’t want to make you feel crappy when we have sex.”

“It’s not crappy, it’s… I dunno. It might more sense once we get some caffeine and something to eat.”

“Is that how your exes all treated you?”

“Some of them. Sometimes. Not all the time though. Even Mark was nice to me once a week or so,” she winced a little. She tried not to talk about him in front of Arnie.

“That fucking asshole.”

“Babe. You’re not him. It’s not like that. It’s hard to describe how it makes me feel, but it’s not bad. I promise.”

They pulled into the diner and Arnold gave her hand one more squeeze. “No one should make you feel that way,” he said. Then he got out and walked around to open her door.

---

Why write a real sex scene when I can write 100 words of sex and 800 words of awkward aftercare?

---

Come back on Tuesday for TMI Tuesday and Part 9 on Friday!

Another delay, but only a couple days. Jayden was too busy to put up the post, even though I wrote it on time. 😉 It is her blog, after all.
~Richard

---

Chelsea grinned, “Of course, father.  What’s the point of being a bad girl if you can’t share it with other people?”

She took the cockring and gave it a few test stretches, opened his zipper and pulled out his cock.

“Mmmmm, father, you’re very hard. Are you sure you aren’t sinning?” she asked, kissing her way down the shaft.

“If a hardon is a sin, all the more reason to take care of it,” said Arnold.

Chelsea slid the ring over his head and down to the base of his shaft. “You can put this on a bunch of different ways, but we’ll start with the basic since it’s your first time.”

She started bobbing her head on his cock, slipping deeper and deeper each time as Arnold moaned and his cock throbbed.

“Mmmm, how do you like it, father?” she asked. “This isn’t the first time some naughty little slut has sucked your cock, is it?”

“What are you implying?”

“That you’d have shot your load by now if you were really a virgin. Although I’m sure your toy is helping,” she moaned when she felt him throb again.

“I put all that behind me when I joined the priesthood.”

Chelsea giggled and slid all the way down, letting her tongue dance out over the cockring as she held back a gag.

“Fuck!” 

She pulled back and licked her lips, “Such language, father. I figured you’d put that behind you as well.”

“Your wicked ways are corrupting me.”

“Why don’t I put you behind me?” She climbed onto the bed on all fours and shook her ass at him. “Maybe you can fuck the bad out of me.”

Arnold climbed onto the bed behind her. “If beating it out of you didn’t work, I doubt this’ll help.” He took a moment to rub the red marks on her cheeks, sending her into a shiver.

“Something is coming out. Feel my thong.”

His fingers slid lower, finding the sopping wet fabric.

“Fuck.”

“Do it, father. Take me. Bad girls like me are only good for one thing. Put me in my place.” She gasped when Arnold yanked the thong to the side, the fabric cutting into her skin a little, then moaned when his hard cock slid easily into her dripping cunt.

“God did make all of us for a reason. No reason to deny your purpose.”

“Mmmm, fuck, teach me my purpose. Fuck me until I memorize every vein on your fat fucking prick. I don’t think I’ve ever felt you so hard.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever felt you so wet.”

“You never hit me like that before.”

“Is that what I should do if I want sex? Just slap you on the ass a couple times and you’ll be dripping.”

Chelsea slammed her hips back, forcing him in as deep as she could. “Am I that easy? Yes. Yes, I am.”

He shoved his hips down against hers, his weight forcing her down into the bed. “You’re going to have to clean up the mess you’re making,” he whispered in her ear.

“I’ll fucking lick these sheets clean every night if it gets me fucked like this.”

He didn’t say anything, just grunted and fucked her harder than ever, stretching her out and reaching deeper.

“Fuck… getting close… keep going…” Chelsea panted, wriggling desperately, reaching for the last bit to push herself over the edge. “Bite me!”

Too lost in his lust, Arnold tilted his head, his teeth grazing her shoulder.

“Harder!” she searched for the pain that’d send her over.

He bit down at the base of her neck and that was it. She screamed, entire body tensing, her cum soaking the sheets. Wordless sounds poured out of her mouth as she rode our her orgasm, and Arnold kept pounding her pussy. After a few seconds, he let out a gasp that she recognized just enough to regain some of her senses.

“Do it! Baptize my cunt, father. Cum in me!”

He groaned and forced his hips down one last time, before spraying deep inside her.

“Oh my god, Chelsea!” 

“Just like that! Just like that! Deep! Deep! Knock me up!”

He slumped down on top of her, as their breathing slowly matched and returned to normal.

“That was… something,” he said.

Chelsea half rolled her head, getting her mouth off the pillow. “Do we need to talk about it?”

“Maybe in a little bit. When there’s more blood in my brain.”

She wriggled his cock out of her and rolled over, looking up at him as she reached for the cock ring. He nodded, then sucked in a breath as she slid it off.

“How about we just cuddle for now?” she asked, opening her arms.

“Sounds good to me,” he said, and leaned in, wrapping his own arms around her.

---

Remember: “Forgive me father for I have sinned,” and “Sorry, daddy, I’ve been bad,” are not the same thing.

---

Come back on Tuesday for TMI Tuesday and Part 8 on Friday!

Sorry about last week. Things were nuts here. But hey, you get an extra long one this week since I had to cram two weeks together! Last time, Chelsea narrowly avoided running into Mark (but did see him kiss one of her friends) and went to the sex shop with her fiancé.
~Richard

---

“Excited to see me in this?” Chelsea asked while they walked back to the car.

“I am,” Arnold said, blushing. “Is that weird?”

“Not at all. I’ve worn way worse than that. In public, even!” I should’ve changed at the store and driven home in it. 

“What’s the worst thing you’ve worn?” he asked as they got in and she started driving.

“Worst?” she laughed. “I had this stupid ‘village bicycle’ costume in college. It was like, these cardboard wheels that I drew on with Sharpie and a black bodysuit. Not like, sexy fishnet body suit, one of those ones you wear when you’re painting. It was stupid.”

“You… what… just… why?”

Chelsea laughed again. “I don’t fucking know. I think I just wanted to be as slutty as possible in the cheapest and laziest way possible. I was going to some stupid party with a guy I was fucking, but not really into, and he wanted to show all his friends what a slut he was dating. Because somehow, that was an accomplishment to him. We were at his house, and it’s not like we had any money or anything, so I just grabbed random shit half an hour before the party. I don’t know. I was young, I was dumb, I was upset because the guy I’d been dating had ghosted me. It was a weird semester.”

Arnold leaned back in his seat and started laughing too. “Is this why you don’t talk about your wild college phase very much? Bonnie blabbed about it once or twice, but she made you sound like this crazy porn sorceress or something.”

“What’d she tell you?”

“Not a lot of specifics. I think she was worried she’d traumatize me. She was teasing me about how I must have a giant dick or something to get you to settle down.”

“You do have a nice dick. As a porn sorceress, I would know. You can’t summon a good incubus if you don’t know how to examine a penis.”

This is nice. I should talk to him about kink and stuff more. He’d probably do some of it.

“So why did you stop? Being a porn sorceress, I mean?”

Chelsea drummed her fingers on the steering wheel as she pulled onto her street, taking a deep breath. Or he could ask the hardest question right off the bat.

Continue reading →

Last week, Chelsea made a bet with Arnold about stopping at a sex shop after homecoming. She was losing (hurray!) but gets a little distracted when she sees Mark with her friend Hannah.
~Richard

---

“What is he doing here? What is she doing?” asked Chelsea.

“It’s homecoming. He went to high school here. So did she, it’s not a big deal,” said Bonnie.

“He never went to a football game in the four years we went here!”

“How would you know that? You barely went to a game.”

“Can you imagine him going to a game? He’s all…” she gestured vaguely in his direction.

“Making out with his new girlfriend? That’s a reason to go to homecoming, right?” Bonnie said, as Mark ran his hands down Hannah’s sides and pulled her in for a kiss.

Chelsea let out a noise halfway between a deflating balloon and a dying cat. A dozen people turned to look at her, but Mark was too far away. Or too distracted trying to fit his tongue into Hannah’s mouth.

“What do we do?”

“Nothing? Go over and say hello? Whichever. Game’s almost over anyway. Another blowout.”

“I bet he’s only dating her to get to me. Jokes on him! We know his plan, we can use this!”

“That sounds slightly insane.”

“We can’t let her know, though. Who knows how deep he’s got his claws into her.”

“That sounds more insane.”

“You don’t know him like I do. But, you’re right. We should go before they see us.”

Bonnie shook her head and waved as she headed back to her seat. Chelsea made it back to Arnie just in time for the last play.

“Well, that was… a game,” he said.

“Yeah. But hey, you get to go pick out that nun outfit for me now!”

“I do. And I got one or two other ideas for things to pick up.”

Chelsea smiled, “Oooh, am I rubbing off on you?”

“Maybe. Don’t they say that married couples start to look alike after a while? Maybe it works with sex too.”

I hope so. Chelsea thought to herself as they got back to the car. She drove to the PleasureMaxxx adult store a few minutes away and led the way inside. She half expected the same staff to be there from when she’d been a regular years ago, but an unfamiliar face looked up from the counter at her. And a whole lot of other unfamiliar things. New toys, videos, outfits. This was going to be fun.

“Help you find anything?” the purple-haired woman behind the counter asked.

Chelsea glanced back at Arnold, who had stopped the second he got inside. “My boyfri– fiancé wanted to see a sexy nun outfit, right babe?”

Arnold nodded, still looking all around.

“Third aisle on the left,” the woman said. “Before the nurses but after the medics.”

Chelsea took his hand and led him over. Besides a handful of full sets, there were dozens of individual parts and accessories for nun costumes.

“We should buy separates,” she said, lifting a pair of thigh-high stockings with crosses that reached down towards the feet. “You get better quality that way. Did you have anything particular in mind? Leather? Latex? More or less revealing?”

“I think you’d know better than me, right?” said Arnold.

“It’s your fantasy, babe,” she said, pressing against him. She leaned in to whisper in his ear. “I want to be exactly what you want.”

“I guess something more lacy? And mostly covered, but see through.”

“Ooh, I like that. Extra naughty,” she grabbed a black lacy top with more crosses over the nipples. “Any accessories, like, a ruler or something?”

He shook his head. “No. Well, you can if you want to. I saw something I wanted to check out over there,” he said, nodding to an aisle they had walked past. Chelsea grabbed a habit to finish the look and followed him down a few aisles.

“Do you know which kind I should get?” he asked, gesturing towards a shelf full of cock rings.

“Probably a simple silicone one for your first time, something like this,” she held up a double-looped one. “I like this kind, one goes around your shaft, and the other for your balls.”

“Sounds good to me,” Arnold said, blushing. “Do we just go check out like a normal store?”

“It’s a totally normal store,” Chelsea said, leading him back to the counter to pay. “Hopefully we have a good time tonight, and we can come back more so you get more comfortable.

---

Is Chelsea too crazy? I feel like she’s a little obsessed.

---

Come back on Tuesday for TMI Tuesday and Part 7 on Friday!

It’s officially Nanowrimo time! Part of my goal will be to get ahead on this so I can actually have time to go back. Hopefully that’ll improve my pacing, etc.
~Richard

---

Chelsea leaned over the vanity, staring at herself in the mirror. The left half of her face was red, the right blue, divided perfectly down her nose. She stepped back out into the bedroom.

“Are you ready yet? We’re going to be late!” she said.

Arnold tugged one end of his green and orange scarf trying to get it just the right length. “Were you this into football in high school? I only went to a couple of games, but I feel like I’d have remembered if I saw you all painted up.”

“Nope, but if I’m going to marry a dirty bird, I gotta rep my colors!”

“Are we still going to be engaged when Deerfield loses?”

“Hmmm. Wanna make it interesting?” she asked, giving him a playful slap on the butt. “If Deerfield wins, you have to do whatever I want. If Westcreek wins, I have to do whatever you want tonight.”

“I think Deerfield has won this game once since we were born, so I guess I should start coming up with ideas for tonight.”

“Hmmm, if you’re so sure, you could give me a preview right now. I actually found this bag the other night…”

She reached under the bed and pulled out the bag, plopping it on the bed.

“I was thinking something like making you watch a cheesy movie, but what’s in here?”

Chelsea looked between him and the bag for a moment, digging inside it. Giant suction cup dildo, buttplug, knife, benwa balls…

“Oh, you know. Whips, chains, things like this.” She found a smaller dildo and held it up.

“When did we get that?” 

“The dildo?” she turned it around and looked at it. “I think I got this in college. I’ve probably had some of this stuff longer than I’ve known you…

“And you’re just showing me now?” Arnold asked, stepping over to look in the bag.

“I just kind of threw it under the bed and forgot about it. I wasn’t trying to hide it.”

“No, that’s fine. Just didn’t realize…” He dug around a little, “Why do we have a pasta cutter in here?” he asked, pulling out a Wartenburg wheel.

Chelsea flushed and snatched it out of his hand. “It’s… tingly,” she said, lightly tracing it over the back of his hand.

Arnold yelped and yanked his hand back.

“Alright. If Westcreek wins, you have to show me what all this stuff is and how it works. If Deerfield wins… I dunno, you can butt plug me or something.” He glanced at the one she’d used the other night. “Maybe a little smaller than that one, though. You have smaller ones, right?”

“If not, I know where we can stop and get one. Maybe I can get a fun outfit, too. Maid? Cheerleader?”

“Nun?”

“Seriously?”

“I went to Catholic school. It fucked me up.”

Chelsea laughed and leaned in to give him a kiss on the cheek. “Whatever outfit you want, if Deerfield wins. You can probably talk me into it either way.”

They walked to the car and drove to the stadium. The game was a blowout, with Deerfield down by twenty-one at the beginning of the fourth quarter.

“I’m going to get a soft pretzel or something,” Chelsea said. “They should get a liquor license, just for homecoming. We’re all coming home and old enough to drink.”

Arnold laughed and waved his scarf as Westbrook made another 20-yard catch.

Chelsea wandered over to the snack stand, whistling softly as she waited in line. She spotted Bonnie and waved her over.

“Having a good time?” Chelsea asked.

“I just want it to be over,” Bonnie said, glancing at the clock.

“Me too! Arnold and I are going to Guilty Pleasures after the game. If Deerfield loses, he’s going to put me in a sexy outfit and dig around in my old toy bag.”

“Look at you, girl! You don’t need Ma– oh my god!”

“What? What is it?”

“Look behind you!”

Chelsea turned around and spotted Mark talking to their friend, Hannah.

---

It was at this moment that the author realized he didn’t name the second friend in the first chapter.

---

Come back on Tuesday for TMI Tuesday and Part 6 on Friday!

One month down! Not sure how many to go…
~Richard

---

“How’s being engaged?” Bonnie asked as she stirred her coffee.

Chelsea set hers on the table a little too hard, splashing some cappuccino on her hand and hissing.

“Feels a lot like that, honestly,” she said, wiping it up.

“So what happened?”

“I don’t know. You started yelling over the phone, then dropped it– and the call, and then he snuck up on me.”

“I meant with your proposal. But sure, we can talk about your ex that you’re still obsessed with.”

“I am not obsessed with him! He snuck in and almost ruined my proposal!”

“Mmmhmm,” Bonnie took a long sip. “So what’d he do?”

“He did that stupid thing he used to do when we both worked there where he’d try to sneak up on me and scare me at my station.”

“I seem to recall you finding that very effective foreplay the last time…”

“That was a decade ago!”

Bonnie shrugged.

“Anyway, he scared me, made me toss the ring, caught it, handed it back to me, called me ‘birdie’ and left.”

“Aww, he remembered you. Did he give it back to you by proposing?”

“No. Just handed it back and made up some lame bullshit about how he didn’t realize it was me.”

“Why would he realize it was you? You haven’t worked at that place in like a decade, like you said. You don’t really even work there now.”

“Yeah, he just happened to show up on the one night I was there.”

“The place is only open like 20 days. It’s not that weird that he showed up on the Friday before Halloween.”

“Oh my god!” Chelsea ducked down, then craned her neck to look past Bonnie.

“What?”

“Turn around, don’t look so obvious!”

“What is up with you?”

“He’s here!”

“What? Where? What’s he doing?”

“He just went into the Costco across the street.”

“And you’re hiding why?”

“What if he comes back?”

“From Costco? In less than five minutes?”

“It could be a trick.”

Bonnie reached over and tilted Chelsea’s chin back towards her coffee cup.

“Or he’s just getting some groceries or something. Like a normal human being on a Saturday morning. If it’s even him.”

“He moved!”

“Yes. He did. And his parents and a lot of his friends still live here. He’s probably just visiting. You’re so obsessed with him!”

“I am not!”

“Tell me about the rest of the proposal.”

“Kind of a blur, honestly. Got down on one knee, popped the question, he said yes, snuggled on the hayride. Went home. Questionable sex. Took a shower…”

Bonnie dipped a biscotti in her coffee. “Trailed off a little at the end there. After remembering your ex spooking you more than your own proposal.”

“I may have used a buttplug, suction dildo, and the wand to get off while I thought of him.”

“Mmhmm.” A bit of the biscotti. “He’s stalking you, but you’re getting off to him after sex with your new fiancé and jumping at every white dude that walks into Costco.”

Chelsea took a sip of her drink and shook her head. “I don’t know. He completely ghosted me years ago. And you’re right, I did have some trouble getting over him. But I love Arnold. It’s just weird seeing him again.”

“Please just tell me you’re not going to dump Arnold and go chasing after him.”

“What? No. I’d rather never see him again. Maybe he’s just in town for the weekend, and this can all be over by Halloween.”

“You going to homecoming next weekend? Maybe he’ll be there.”

“I guess I should. Show off being engaged to everyone.”

---

Saw him again at Target.
10/24 3:17 

They did have a good cat litter sale this week.

And Michael’s
10/26 5:12

Probably getting stuff for Halloween.

He’s at my Giant!
10/27 6:17

He does have to eat.

What do I do if I see him at homecoming?

Smile? Wave? Point at your engagement
ring and don’t put out.

You’re not helping.

---

Chelsea dropped her phone and sighed. Bonnie was right. The fact that he popped up at a couple stores didn’t mean anything. If he’d really wanted to sneak up on her or whatever, he would…

Her hand drifted between her legs as she thought back to their last Halloween together. Freshman year of college. She’d been getting over a cold and decided to skip the parties. They were still sort of together. Going to different colleges, but only like half an hour apart. She’d come home to let her parents nurse her a little for the weekend, but they’d gone out to a party. Around seven, she’d heard a rattling noise by the garage door. She’d peeked out the window and not seen anything. Gone back to Netflix. Ten minutes later, she heard something near the back. Another peek. Still nothing.

It’d gone on like that for half an hour or so. She’d assumed it was some kids playing pranks, made sure the doors were locked, and headed upstairs. Where the bathroom window was wide open.

Had her mom left it open after a shower? It was a chilly night to have a window open, but her parents had been in a hurry. She tugged it shut and headed to her room. When she stepped in, she flipped the light switch. Nothing. She flipped it on and off a couple times, heart moving from fast firmly into racing. Was the power out? She took a long step towards her desk, leaving the door open, and clicked on the lamp there. That worked, and it lit the room up enough. She looked around, using her phone flashlight, but everything seemed fine and undisturbed. The light had probably just burnt out. She stripped down and texted Mark goodnight.

And heard the familiar ping of a text notification from the hallway.

She spun around and snapped a selfie, thrusting her tits out.

Ping again from the closet on the right.

She yanked the door open.

“You asshole!”

There was Mark, half hidden behind their winter coats, one hand in his pocket trying to silence his phone.

He shoved her out, pinning her to the wall. He pulled the ski mask covering his face up enough to expose his lips and kissed her hard, tongue pressing into her mouth.

In the present, she slipped two fingers into her folds and glanced at the clock. Arnold should be out with his D&D group for at least another half hour. Plenty of time.

She shivered when she remembered Mark breaking the kiss to growl in her ear. “Shame you’re already naked, slut. I thought it’d be fun to go slasher on your outfit. She heard a click and felt the cold steel of a knife lightly gliding over her hip.

She’d screamed then, shoving him away and running towards her bedroom. Stumbling from the Nyquil she’d taken, he caught her easily when she tried to shove the door closed, slamming it open and leaving a dent in the wall.

“Good little birdie, putting yourself in a cage.”

She tripped onto her back when she hit the bed.

He shut the door, locking it, and flicked off the desk lamp. She could just see the glint of the hall light off the knife. He kicked off his pants and climbed on top of her, pinning her spread legs under his knees.

He slid into her dripping wet cunt easily, pressing the knife against her throat.

“Normally, I’d tell you not to scream, but there’s no one to hear you. Go ahead; it might make me cum faster.”

She’d screamed. As well as she could with her cold anyway. Again and again, every time he thrust into her. He pressed the knife a little harder, slamming her down into the bed, the creak of the mattress echoing her cries.

It didn’t take long for her to cum, and he was only a few seconds behind her. He pulled out, jerking his cock with his free hand, and sprayed over her tits. As she slowly came down, he traced the tip of the blade through his cum, spelling out MINE and SLUT on her tits.

“So how sharp is that?” she asked.

“Duller than a butter knife,” he said. “I’m not that crazy.”

She laughed and snuggled against him. “You’re sweet. I’ve never had my own personal slasher before.”

---

And that’s it for October. Pacing was a little off this month. I should do better about trying to write a month or so at a time. Next month is Nano, and this isn’t my main story, but I’m sure I’ll work on it a good amount. Hopefully get a little bit of a backlog. See you then!

---

Come back on Tuesday for TMI Tuesday and Part 5 on Friday!

Last week, Chelsea made a coffee date with her friend Bonnie and had some mediocre sex with her soon-to-be-husband Arnold (while fantasizing about her ex: Mark). While they’re getting cleaned up, she reaches under the bed and finds a bag of old sex toys. Shortie this round because I was super busy at work this week, and now I have to rush off to help Jayden with something.
~Richard

---

Chelsea pulled out the dildo. How long had it been down there? Since she’d moved in, probably. They’d talked about using more toys, but it’d never gotten very far. She rummaged around some more, pulling out a 3-inch buttplug.

“Maybe a little too aggressive…” she muttered to herself. She hadn’t had more than a finger up there in a year, and even that rarely.

“Did you say something, sweetheart?” Arnold called from the bathroom.

“Just talking to myself, babe!” She dropped the big plug back in and kept digging, finding one about half its size.

Chelsea hopped up, grabbed her bathrobe off the peg on the back of the door, and tucked both toys into the sleeve.

She thought back to the last time she’d used a buttplug. It’d been before she started dating Arnold. She and Bonnie had a few too many drinks and gotten into an ill-advised competition. She’d won. 

A moment later, Arnold came out of the bathroom. She gave him a peck on the cheek (careful not to brush too close to him) and slipped inside.

After making sure the door was locked, she started up the shower and hung her robe.

Chelsea looked down at the buttplug. This should be easy. She’d taken ones this size when she was in college. With a deep breath, she reached behind herself and pushed.

“Ahhhh, ooooh,” she hissed in a breath. It hurt a bit, but she made it in. Gingerly, she took her hand away, making sure it would stay. She gave it a little squeeze and groaned. It felt good.

Step two: Chelsea climbed into the shower holding the dildo. She looked around, it’d been a while since she’d done this, but she was pretty sure she remembed the right angle. She pressed the mount onto the wall at hip level and pressed back against it.

“Mmmmfff,” she moaned as it filled her up, the curve hitting perfectly.

Not bad, birdie, said Mark’s voice in her head.

She looked up half expecting to see him through the steam. When he didn’t appear, she imagined him chuckling, before giving his next order.

It’ll take you too long to cum like that. Can’t keep Mr. Clean waiting. Grab the shower wand.

She nodded to herself, whimpering as she pulled out all but the very tip of the dildo to grab the wand and point it at her clit.

“Mmmmm, that feels nice.”

Too nice. You always got off faster with a little pain.

She nodded again, clicking the wand onto a different setting. Hard pulses of water crashed against her clit, drawing out a noise halfway between a moan and a squeal.

Careful, don’t fall. Otherwise you’ll have to explain why you need three different sextoys to get off while you imagine your ex ordering you around in the bathroom.

“Fuck you,” she said through gritted teeth, wriggling her hips to grind the dildo deeper. She felt it pressing against the plug, barely separated inside her.

You wish. If you had, you wouldn’t be in here. Harder.

She growled and slammed her hips back, flattening her ass against the wall. This had the added bonus of cramming the butt plug a painful quarter inch deeper inside her. She dropped the wand and covered her mouth as she came, muffling the sounds of her pleasure. The shower head clattered to the floor of the tub, followed a moment later by the dildo when she pulled it off the wall, dropping to her knees in the tub.

“Everything okay, sweetheart?” Arnold called.

Chelsea took a deep breath. “Yeah, just dropped the soap,” she said with a half-hearted laugh. “I’ll be out in a few.”

He said something she didn’t really hear, and she sat there for a moment in the water, wetter than she’d been in months. And not from the shower.

---

Come back on Tuesday for TMI Tuesday and Part 3 on Friday!

Last week, Chelsea was getting ready to propose to her ex-boyfriend when Mark showed up for the first time in years. He almost spoiled her surprise and disappeared with barely a word. She proposed and is taking a hay ride with her now fiancé while texting with one of her friends.
~Richard

---

“What the hell just happened?” Chelsea texted Bonnie.

“I don’t know. We had most of the entrances closed, and most of the guests funneled to other parts of the house when he just showed up.”

“Just like him. Asshole.”

“It is.”

Arnold slid his hand into hers as the tractor rolled over a bumpy stretch between the cornfields.

“Gotta go. Coffee tomorrow morning?”

“See you then.”

She leaned in against Arnold’s shoulder, squeezing his hand.

“Everything alright, babe?” he asked.

“Why wouldn’t it be? We’re engaged!” she spoke into his arm, muffling her emotion.

“I know. You just seem a little off.”

She shook her head. “It’s just been a big night. Coming back here, the proposal, setting everything up. I’m tired.”

“Not too tired, I hope.”

She looked up.

“We’ve got to consummate the engagement, right?”

She laughed, “I think that’s weddings, but I won’t say no…” She trailed two fingers up the thigh of his jeans. “How much longer is the ride? I never worked this end of the farm.”

“Five minutes, give or take. You in a hurry?”

She put a hand on the back of his head, pulling his face towards her. The moment their lips met, she slid her tongue past his, moaning softly.

Five minutes wasn’t so long, but by the time they made it to the end, she was ready to drag him behind a hay bale.

What if Mark finds us? He would, somehow. And he won’t even have the decency to be embarrassed about it; he’ll just whip out his dick and suggest a threesome.

As Arnold drove them home, Chelsea reached over, unzipping his jeans.

“Seriously? Can’t wait to get back home?” he asked, laughing a little.

She pouted. “Do I have to? I waited so long to propose, and now you’re going to make me wait some more?”

“We should get engaged more often. It really does it for you, huh?”

“I have to rack up as many fucks with my fiancé as I can before I don’t have one anymore…” She slid her hand into his pants, feeling his hard cock squeezed against his boxers.

They pulled into the driveway, and he pulled away and stepped out of the car, drawing another pout from Chelsea. If his dick hadn’t been so hard, I’d be insulted. She raced after him, following him into the bedroom where he was stripping down and grabbing a condom from the nightstand.

“We can skip that tonight,” she said. “I’m on the pill anyway. Besides, you can knock me up soon if we’re getting married.”

“Not yet,” he said, rolling it down over his hard shaft. “Besides, it’s easier to clean up this way.”

Just what every girl wants. Nice clean sex.

She quickly slipped off her clothes and pushed him down on the bed, straddling him. She reached down, angling his cock towards her wet pussy and toying with the condom, debating pulling it off. In the end, she sank down, letting out a moan as he slid into her. 

“Fuck, you hit all the right spots,” she said, building a rhythm as she bounced up and down.

His hands moved to her hips, moving in sync with her. “I love you, babe. I’m so glad we’re getting married.”

A flash of the proposal popped into her head. She saw him from her place on one knee. As she looked up at him, his face morphed, replaced with Mark’s. She gasped, losing her pace for a second.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

She nodded, taking a deep breath. “Yeah, just… hit a sensitive spot, I guess.”

“We can switch positions if you want.”

She shook her head and started bouncing again, letting out a groan. “No, this is good. Keep going, baby.”

Her mind started to wander again back to the haunted house.

Is that any position for a slut? Mark’s voice floated through her head. She sucked in a breath, driving herself harder on Arnold’s cock.

Sorry, Sir, she imagined herself saying, dropping down onto both knees in front of him.

And what do you have for me, slut?

She opened the box, steel cockring, a larger version of the engagement band she’d just given Arnold.

Do you like it, Sir? You always complain about how I have all kinds of fun jewelry, and you don’t.

I do, birdie. I’ll be sure to wear it while I stretch out your asshole tonight.

She shuddered again and felt her holes clench. Arnold gasped, bucking his hips up into her as his cock spasmed. She leaned down against him, both their breaths slowing.

“Fuck, that was good babe. Sorry, I came so fast. Did you cum at the end there?”

“I think so. Just a little one tonight. I’m kind of worn out from everything…”

“Do you want me to eat you out?” he asked, slowly sliding out and pulling the condom off. 

She grimaced a little when he was looking down, imagining the taste of lube mixed with her pussy. “I’m fine, sweetheart. Why don’t you wash up? I’m going to text the rest of my friends and let them know you said yes!”

He smiled, lovingly beaming up at her, then grabbed a paper towel to wipe up and wrap the condom in before heading to the shower.

Chelsea reached off the side of the bed for her pants, phone still in the pocket. Instead, she accidentally hooked her thumb around the hook of a duffle bag under the bed. She pulled it out and opened the zipper, asshole clenching again when she spotted the suction cup base of a foot-long dildo inside.

---

Come back on Tuesday for TMI Tuesday and Part 3 on Friday!

Chelsea and Mark’s pre-wedding tryst got a pretty good response, so I decided to have some more fun with them. I’ve wanted a Long Halloween style holiday story for a while, so we’re going to give it a shot. For the foreseeable future, I’ll be taking over Fridays with Chelsea, Mark, holiday celebrations, and (eventually) hot sex. 
~Richard

---

“Hawkeye to Sheepdog, I’ve got eyes on the target.”

“Roger Hawkeye, checkpoint one secure.”

“Deploying decoys. Thirty seconds to contact.”

“On him, proceeding to checkpoint two.”

“Closing vault one. He’s all yours, Bride.”

Chelsea shook her head. Why had she let Bonnie talk her into codenames? All she needed was for the two of them to let her know when Arnold was coming into the haunted house and make sure there was a break before the next group. She opened her phone camera and looked at her costume one last time. Veil: check, corpse makeup: check, bridal dress: check (a little old fashioned for her taste. She’d wear something that showed off a little more at the wedding), ring: check.

She and Arnold had met about a hundred yards away at the kettle corn stand of Shaffer’s Haunt-o-Ween Scareathon in high school. It’d been her first job. They hadn’t quite hit it off at first, but Bonnie claimed she knew they’d wind up together that first night.

She took her place behind the column of the dilapidated chapel set and waited. She was at the front by the (fake) cobweb-covered altar, with cockeyed doric columns and flickering LED candles. Between her and the door were three rows of pews and a blacklight-lit aisle. Normally, the guests walked up, she jumped out, and they ran to the next door that would light up past the altar. Tonight, she’d gotten permission to use it to propose. Old man Shaffer was a big softie, despite the fact that he ran the biggest Halloween display in the tri-state area.

Arnie would be here any second now. She could hear his footsteps coming down the hallway.

“ABORT! ABORT! It’s him! Shi–” the trademark thump-crackle-thump of Bonnie dropping her phone blasted from the speaker. Chelsea hit the end call button and peaked around the corner. What was going on? Him who? Someone was walking up the aisle, but she couldn’t tell who. It had to be Arnold. They’d said he would be there any second. She slid back behind the column, put her phone away, took a deep breath, and squeezed the ring tight.

The footsteps kept coming closer, walking between the pews towards the altar. Just a few more feet.

Until they stopped. Chelsea held her breath, listening. Why had he stopped? She took a slow breath, still waiting. Nothing. She poked her head around the edge of the column again. Empty. Where had he gone? There were only two doors, and she’d have heard him go back through the front.

“Boo!”

Chelsea screamed, jumping forwards. She flailed, sending the ring flying, and barely managed to grab onto the column. Which couldn’t support her weight. The plastic tube tilted even further until she felt an arm around her waist, pulling her back up. She turned to see who had scared her and saw the ring, held inches in front of her face.

“Sorry, I figured you’d rather I save this. Looks expensive.”

That voice. It couldn’t be.

She snatched the ring and took half a step back. It’d been five years, but he still had that stupid goatee.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Chelsea asked.

Mark took his own half-step back. “Haunted house? I saw you peeking out and thought it’d be fun to see if I could sneak up and scare you instead. Or whoever was here. I didn’t realize it was you.”

“Just go!” she said, pointing towards the altar door.

“Alright, sorry, birdie. Like I said, didn’t realize it was you.” He held his hands up and started walking towards the door.

Arnold came in just after he left. Chelsea dropped down on one knee, proposed, and kissed him. At least, that’s what must’ve happened since he had the ring on his finger when they came out of the house, which was the first thing she remembered. They grabbed some kettle corn and hopped on the hayride. She snuggled up against him, but most of her attention was on her phone.

“What the hell just happened?” she texted Bonnie.

---

Come back on Tuesday for TMI Tuesday!

Another installment of a beautiful wedding.
~Richard

---

Chelsea looked up in the mirror. “I see a slut getting teased by her Master on her wedding day.”

“And what’re you going to do for the honeymoon?” asked Mark.

“Maybe I’ll sneak you along. I can slip out after he goes to bed. Is that what you want?”

Mark laughed and slid himself in deeper. “You’re such a naughty little slut. What would you have done if I hadn’t shown up, sucked off the groomsmen?”

Chelsea rolled her hips, trying to pull him in all the way. “I’m only like this for you, Sir. I was a good girl before you came back.”

“Were you a good girl when you were being faithful to your husband, or a good girl when you’re emptying my balls? Which is it, slut, you seem confused.”

“I’m just a stupid fucking cockdrunk whore whenever you’re around, Sir.”

Mark grabbed onto her hips, slipping all the way in, and gasping in pleasure. “This is all you were ever good for, slut. I don’t know why anyone would think you’re wife material.”

Chelsea just moaned, squeezing around his cock as he reached back to the parts of her cunt only he could reach.

Mark slapped her ass and slipped back out to the head, slowly building a rhythm.

“I’m never letting your cock get away again,” she moaned. “It’s so fucking good.”

“You were made for it, whore. This is where you belong, bent over and getting bred like a bitch by me.”

Chelsea nodded. “Please cum in my pussy. I want your cum dripping down my legs when I get married, I want you to fucking knock me up. I want to feel your eyes staring at my ass while I kiss my husband for the first time.”

“I can’t believe you thought you’d straighten out. You’ve always been my fucking whore.” His thrusts got faster as he got closer to cumming.

“I was so close. Another hour and I’d have been married. Not that it would’ve made a difference. Fuck I’m close, can I cum, Master?”

“Go ahead, slut. Squeeze my cock nice and hard and make me cum too.”

Chelsea nodded, shoving her hips back hard against his, moaning louder and louder. Mark reached a hand around, covering her mouth just in time for her to scream into his palm as she came, cunt clenching around his cock. A moment later he let out his own moan, shooting deep inside her pussy, flooding it with cum.

They both slumped forward on the counter, panting. Slowly, Chelsea managed to look up at him, a lopsided smile on her face. “So, do I have your permission to get married now, Daddy?”

Mark laughed. “I was never going to stop you. I just wanted to see you one more time and apologize before the wedding. You’re the one that went into stupid slut mode and came onto me.”

“You’re a fucking asshole, Master.”

“It’s why you love me, slut.”

---

Let us know if you want to hear more about Chelsea and Mark! Don’t forget to come back on Tuesday for TMI Tuesday!

Mmm. It takes a long time to get through a story in small chunks. Enjoy this one!
~Richard

---

“Is that how you want to get married, whore?” Mark asked.

Chelsea nodded, “Mmmmhmm. I can’t think of anything that would make me feel like a bigger slut for you.”

“What about your husband? Does he know about any of this?”

Chelsea leaned back in, nuzzling his balls and kissing them. “Does he know that my last boyfriend before him was a big cocked asshole who absolutely broke me, then ditched me with barely a word, and I still think about him while I shove my biggest dildo in my cunt when he can’t get me off? Mmmmm, I think I might’ve mentioned it once or twice.”

“Jesus. I didn’t… I’m sor– Oooh!”

Chelsea swirled her tongue over his cock head for a second. “Ssshhhh, I don’t want to talk about that right now. I want this fat dick in me, and then we can worry about the rest once you’ve fucked me stupid.”

Mark reached down and grabbed her throat, pulling her up to her feet, then shoving her down on the counter, bent over at the waist.

“Are you on the pill?” he asked, slipping her white thong to the side and teasing his cock head over her lips.

“Mmmhmmm. But not for that. John always wears a condom, he says he doesn’t like all the mess.”

“And you let him? I’m pretty sure you’d have gone crazy without at least one creampie a week.”

Chelsea wriggled her hips back, trying to slip his cock into her, whining when he kept it on the teasing edge. “He doesn’t quite inspire the same need to breed you do, Sir.”

“Maybe I’ll tell you to get off the pill and he can keep the condoms. You can just beg to become my buttslut if you don’t want me to knock you up.” He slapped her ass and winked at her in the mirror.

Chelsea moaned. “I’d rather take my chances and have your cum dripping out of all my holes. You’d have my ass all to yourself either way, he thinks that’s dirty too.”

“Doesn’t he know he’s marrying a nasty little slut?” Mark asked, planting another pair of spanks on each cheek.

She wriggled, bouncing her ass against his hand. “I don’t think he quite realizes, Sir… I get in a mood every once in a while, but I’ve mostly been respectable since you left.”

“Well, I guess he can find out the truth on our honeymoon,” Mark said, before slipping his cockhead into her pussy.

Chelsea whined as her lips stretched around him, sending her squirming again. “Master, pleeease. We don’t have much time. I need you to mark my cunt before I get married. I need you to remind this dumb bitch that she’ll always be your slut. I need to be able to fantasize that your cum is knocking me up while I stand at the altar. I need to know I was a good girl who emptied your balls!”

“Look at yourself,” Mark ordered, reaching down and tilting her head up to gaze into the mirror. “And tell me what you see.”

---

Let us know if you want to hear more about Chelsea and Mark! Don’t forget to come back on Tuesday for TMI Tuesday!

Have a little more about Chelsea just before she walks down the aisle…
~Richard

---

Chelsea gagged again when Mark pressed his hips forward. He looked down at her as tears started to well at the corners of her eyes. He pulled back a bit and gave her another smirk. “Good thing you didn’t do your makeup yet, slut.”

She nodded and gasped. “Yes, Sir. I’m sorry. No one’s fucked my throat properly in some time.” She kissed her way down his cock, tongue washing his balls.

“How long?” he asked.

She looked up at him for a moment, knowing what he was really asking. “About four years. You’re not the last one to use me.”

“Just the last one to do it properly,” he said, grabbing her under the chin and lining her mouth up in front of his cock. 

“Ahhhh,” she said, sticking her tongue out, reaching towards him.

He shook his head, but slowly dipped his hips, sliding his cock along her tongue. She moaned at the taste, sending vibrations up his cock and drawing out his own moans.

“That’s it, pet. We’ll go nice and slow.”

She nodded, letting him slip deeper, doing her best to sit still. She kept her palms down on her knees, and did her best to breathe through her nose.

Mark made it to where she’d started to gag last time. “If you can’t take it all in this hole, I’m afraid for your ass, whore.”

“Ooh mmhhm mmphhh, Mrrr,” she said, shivering a little. Her ass was even more out of practice than her throat. At least she had a popsicle occasionally.

He slowly started to build a rhythm, slipping the last inch of cock in and out of her mouth, slipping a hair deeper each time. 

“Remember what you have to do for it to count as a proper deepthroat, slut?”

She nodded a little, trying to force him even deeper, even as her throat clenched against him. Eager as her spirit was to submit, her body struggled to keep up. Mark shifted his stance, bending his knees a little, letting his bodyweight crush down on her, driving deep into her throat. She wretched, squeezing her eyes shut, reaching her tongue as far as she could teasing over his balls.

“Good girl,” he said, pulling back. She bent over, panting and gasping for air, “good girl” echoing in her head. So worth it.

He reached down, rubbing her back lightly as she caught her breath and looked up at him.

“Ready to walk down the aisle now?” he asked.

After a moment, she slowly shook her head. “No, Sir. I couldn’t let you go without making you cum at least once. And I think it’d be perfect to get married with your cum dripping down to my garter, don’t you, Sir?”

---

Let us know if you want to hear more about Chelsea and Mark! Don’t forget to come back on Tuesday for TMI Tuesday!

Here’s a short story (maybe the beginning of more?) of a fun wedding day story!
~Richard

---

“Son of a bitch!” Chelsea yelled. Her maid of honor was supposed to be helping her finish her corset, but she’d had to step away because the caterer was on fire or some nonsense. It didn’t matter how many color coded checklists you triple checked, weddings never went according to plan.

She jumped when someone rapped on the door, one hand flailing to the makeup counter as she balanced in her heels. Putting them on first was a pain, but she’d never be able to do it fully laced.

“What’s, who is it? Just come in!” she said, watching the door in the mirror. Her heart froze when Mark swung it open and stepped in.

She spun around to face him, one hand behind her back gripping the counter hard enough to make her knuckles match her dress. “What’re you doing here?”

Mark smiled a little. Veering dangerously close to a smirk. His beard was a little greyer than she remembered. That was dangerous too. 

“Unless someone else is hiding in here,” he said, taking a step inside, “I think I’m going to help you into that corset.”

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