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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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Souvenir of Budapest
by Ed Rider (edrider73@gmail.com)
***
On the morning of our fifth day of vacation, the last
day before we flew home, my wife Magda announced that
she had arranged a memorable evening for me that night.
"It will be a real souvenir of Budapest," said Magda at
breakfast. (FF/M, reluc-husb, oral, anal, fist, exh)
***
Magda didn't keep it a secret that she went through a
wild phase while she was a student in Budapest.
By the time I met her, she was the hottest real estate
agent in town in both senses. I don't know whether it
was her beautiful face, her curves, her good nature, her
sense of humor or the sexy Hungarian accent that closed
all her escrows -- probably some of each.
I fell hard, and for some reason, she chose me, although
I thought all the other guys she was dating were better
looking than me and had a lot more money. Still, our
marriage was a good one, and two children made it
stronger and made her even more beautiful to me.
We had a good love life, with lots of variety -- at
least I thought so. Most of it was comfortable, but we
would occasionally surprise each other with spontaneous
ideas, and each of us usually enjoyed the surprises. I
was less daring and never tried anything that I thought
might be uncomfortable for her. Occasionally I did
decline some of her more unusual moves.
One of them was sticking her fingers in my anus. One
finger was all right and even felt good when she moved
it around as we made love, but sometimes she stuck a
second finger in. That bothered me , and I stopped her.
One time, before I could do that, she put a third finger
in, and I jumped up.
"What's wrong?" she asked.
"You know," I said. "I don't like that."
"You are so unadventurous," she said. "You never want to
try anything new."
"You know that's not true," I said. "I just don't like
how that feels, and you want to take it even further,
don't you?"
"Yes, I admit it," she said. "I promise you I would be
careful. I'm certain you could take all my fingers and
even my whole hand in there and more. You might enjoy
it, or you might hate it. But unless you let me try, how
will you ever know for sure?"
"I already know that I'll hate it," I said, "and I don't
need to know for sure."
"Every time you try something new on me, I go along,"
she said. "Sometimes, I really like it, sometimes it
does nothing for me and sometimes I can't stand it. But
I always tell you later, when we're done, when I know
for sure.
"If I didn't do that, we would have both missed out on
some exciting things we now do all the time. It's not
fair that I'm the only one who takes the risks when you
benefit as much as me."
"You know that if you say you don't want to do
something, I would never pressure you to do it," I said.
"Why won't you do the same for me."
"You're not listening," she said. "How would I know I
don't want to do it? How do you know? Oh never mind!"
By that time, we were both out of the mood, so I turned
on my night light and went back to the book I was
reading before we began getting amorous. She got up and
went to her computer in her office to respond to some
email. After an hour, I turned off the light and went to
sleep. She still hadn't come back to bed.
About a week later, she told me she wanted to take a
vacation without the kids this year, because she wanted
to show me around Budapest, and the toddlers were too
young for the trip. So a few months later, we dropped
the kids at my parents and flew off.
She didn't have any family left in Hungary, because they
had all moved to the States, but her college girlfriend,
Juliska, still lived in Budapest and greeted us at the
airport. She was another beauty, and her body was even
more voluptuous than Magda's. She showed it off in some
skimpy and slutty outfits as the three of us explored
the city for four days.
A lot of other beauties crossed our path as we wandered
around, and most of them were dressed like Juliska
rather than Magda, whose outfits that were considered
risque at home looked tame by comparison. There was
something about Juliska that was a little out there, and
conversations with her and Magda were a lot of fun,
including lots of dirty jokes. Sometimes they were in
Hungarian, but Magda translated.
I figured this was because Juliska was part of the
Hungarian film industry and she'd been around, even
though she told me she was mostly involved in production
and didn't do much acting. Several times I caught her
looking at me intently, but when I noticed, she turned
away, and she definitely never flirted with me.
On the morning of our fifth day, the last day before we
flew home, Magda announced that she and Juliska had
arranged a memorable evening for me that night. "It will
be a real souvenir of Budapest," said Magda at
breakfast. "Juli won't be with us today, because she's
working on it."
I figured it would be something similar to our fancy
dinner with gypsy music a couple of nights before and
didn't think about it again as we spent the day
strolling the streets, watching the many outdoor
performers and shopping for gifts to take home.
We brought everything back to the hotel room, and I
asked Magda if we should change for dinner, but she said
no. A few minutes later, Juliska arrived, and we walked
a few blocks to a nondescript office building. Juliska
ushered us inside and led us past a receptionist and
down a hallway. We ended up in front of a couple of
small dressing rooms, like the kind you find backstage
in a theater, except the mirrors that had once been on
the walls had been removed. All that was left was empty
wooden framing.
There we were introduced to Ilona, who looked like she
bought her clothes the same place Juliska did. "You are
both going to be in costume for this," said Juliska,
pushing me into one room with Ilona while she took
Magda's hand and pulled her into the other room. The
door shut, and Ilona started undressing me.
"Wait a second," I said, pushing her hands away. "What's
going on?"
Her accent was a lot thicker than Juliska's and her
English a lot worse. She showed me a colorful outfit
hanging from a pipe rod and seemed to be saying this was
some kind of imperial costume that I was to wear. I
decided to go along, but I told her I'd undress myself.
Even though she was adamant about me taking off my
briefs, I kept them on while she put the elaborate
costume over my head. I didn't know what it was, but it
seemed like a long tunic made from some kind of heavy
material that was white, with lots of colorful flowery
and frilly things sewn on to it.
Once I had it on, she sat me down in the dressing chair
and began to work on my face. I started to object, but
in her halting English she explained that makeup was
part of the costume. I closed my eyes and let her rub
and dab away at me. The weirdest thing was when she
stuck several cloth disks on top of my balding head with
some kind of sticky putty. Finally, she scrutinized me
and nodded in satisfaction.
When she was done, she pulled me down the hall to a
large room with an oversized couch on it. Sitting on the
couch was a beautiful woman dressed like a man, but not
just any man. She looked like a medieval prince and had
a fake mustache and beard on. But in between the
colorful hanging cloth material and decorations, you
could see some major breasts and a gorgeous round rear,
so it was definitely a woman.
When she patted the place next to her and said, "Sit
down," I suddenly realized it was Magda. I thought it
might be ventriloquism, until I pulled aside some cloth
and hair and saw that special mark in the hidden place
that Magda always told me was for my eyes only.
Otherwise, I wouldn't have believed it was her, because
the makeup job was so good. I wondered what Ilona's
makeup had made me look like.
When I sat down, some bright stand lights were turned on
across the room and on either side of us and aimed
straight at us. I couldn't see who was standing behind
them, but I heard the pleasant voice of a woman who had
a Hungarian accent but spoke English well. She started
asking questions, first in Hungarian to Magda and then
in English to me. I didn't find out until later that the
questions to Magda were different than the questions she
asked me:
Woman: You both look great? What do you think?
Me: I didn't even recognize Magda.
Woman: I thought that was the idea.
Me: What do you mean?
Woman: How do you feel about doing this movie with
Magda?
Me: I'm just going along.
Woman: Aren't you a little bit afraid?
Me: I haven't had time to think about it. Should I be
afraid?
Woman: Well, most men wouldn't be willing to do this.
Me: I know what you mean. I feel pretty silly sitting
here in this costume.
Woman: Magda wrote the story. Did you have any idea she
was capable of such a thing?
Me: No, I never knew she could write.
Woman: Are you sure you want to go through with this?
Me: No. But I'm here now, so I guess Magda's not going
to let me get away with leaving before we shoot this
silly costume video.
That was the end of the conversation with me. She asked
Magda a few more questions in Hungarian, and I wished
again that I had learned some of the language before we
came. I had no idea what they were saying.
Then Magda got up and assumed her character, I guess,
because she stood up straight and marched in a military
stride out of the lighted area into the dark, where I
could not see her. But before she did, she turned and
gave me one of her characteristic mischievous looks. At
least I think so, because she looked so different that I
wasn't sure.
A second after she left, Ilona and a large woman came to
the couch. The woman was about a foot taller than me and
very muscular. She had a mean expression on her face.
Just as I was thinking this was the first ugly Hungarian
woman I'd seen on this trip, she squatted down in front
of me, grabbed my feet and in one quick motion pulled
them high in the air. My costume fell over my face, and
I couldn't see anything.
While I was being held upside down by her, two hands
grabbed my briefs and pulled them straight up. The woman
released one foot at a time -- she was really strong --
and my briefs were pulled off. I started to shout, but
then two fingers stuck something rubbery into my mouth.
It was the end of a balloon. I could feel the rubber
taste in my mouth.
As soon as the end was in my mouth the fingers pinching
it pulled away, and I felt all the air of the balloon
escape into my mouth. I was still at the start of my
yell, but the yell turned into a high-pitched squeal
that sounded funny. This made me even angrier. The
balloon had contained helium and the more I yelled, the
more ridiculous it sounded.
Meanwhile, I felt a finger pushing something greasy into
my anus. That was followed by a long tube that was
pushed in further and further before stopping deep
inside me. Then I felt the hot liquid flowing into me.
I struggled, but the big woman was still holding my feet
in the air, and the liquid kept coming. Finally it
stopped, and after holding me up a few more minutes, the
woman slowly lowered my feet back to the floor, and I
could see again. She grabbed me around the waist and
held me. I moved my hands and feet frantically trying to
escape, but although I twisted back and forth, I
couldn't get free.
When my twists began turning into squirms, she released
me and took my hand. I stood up and tried to break free,
but she held my hand tight and pointed toward a corner
of the room that was in the dark and slowly started
walking in that direction. I was now really squirming
and had given up trying to escape in favor of trying to
hold the liquid in. When I saw that that we were heading
toward what looked like a bathroom, I moved ahead
quickly and dragged her behind me. She was still holding
my hand tightly.
Even when I got to the toilet, she didn't let go.
Afterward, she took a soapy sponge and cleaned me and
then dragged me back to the couch. She held me while
someone came up behind me and pushed something on top of
my head, making it stick to me. That's when I realized
those pieces of cloth stuck to my head were Velcro.
I tried to resist, but they had put some powerful stuff
in that enema, and by the time everything was expelled,
I was exhausted and weak. Then I heard some loud martial
music coming from speakers somewhere in the room. After
a few seconds, the music gradually faded, and I heard a
man speaking in English with a Hungarian accent. It was
like a formal announcement:
"The princess's wedding night, Part One. The slave of
the prince prepares the bride for her first
consummation."
As these words were spoken, a short, muscular man, whose
body shone with oil walked up to the couch. He looked
like a fire hydrant, squat and square with not an inch
of fat. All he wore was what looked like a miniskirt
that came to just above his knees.
Just like the heavy woman, he lifted me up into the air
by my feet, and then another tube was inserted deeply.
Oh no, I thought, here we go again. Sure enough, I
started filling up. This time it wasn't water but
something thick and greasy, but it was just as
uncomfortable.
When it had finished, he continued to hold me up for a
few minutes, but he didn't lower my legs and lead me to
the bathroom. Instead he pulled my legs apart and
stepped between them.
That's when I saw that there was something huge peeking
out from under his skirt. It was as long as a snake and
much wider and it was rising into the air and pushing
his miniskirt higher. He dropped one of my legs but kept
holding the other one high. His other hand took the huge
snake and placed it between my rear cheeks, and then he
pushed. As he did, there was a squishy sound and some of
the greasy stuff inside me squirted out. He pulled back
a moment and then rubbed his pole in the grease and up
and down my crack. I tensed my anal muscles as he pushed
again, and this time nothing came out, but he didn't let
up on the pressure. Nothing happened for a minute, and
then I screamed as I felt him begin to slide into me. I
sounded like Donald Duck frightened by an ant. He kept
pushing, and I felt a strange kind of discomfort. There
was hardly any friction because of the grease, but the
huge snake was stretching my rear hole and insides. I
was panting from trying to cope with the horrible
feeling, and as he pushed the last few inches in, I
almost fainted from the pain. He stopped while I
breathed in and out and tried to deal with the huge mass
inside my body.
Then he began pulling out a little and pushing back in.
I screamed again, and Donald sounded a little darker
until another balloon was emptied into my mouth and the
high voice returned. I stopped making any sound except
sobs and grunts as he slowly and painfully moved in and
out of me, each time pulling further out before pushing
all the way in.
I turned my head away toward the lights and saw in the
corner a TV monitor playing a porn film of a short man
making love to the anus of a beautiful woman. It was the
same man who was attacking me, and even the rhythm was
the same. As I moved my arm, the woman's arm moved the
same way. Then I really screamed.
The woman was me, but it didn't look anything like me.
The white tunic I was wearing that was bunched at my
waist was actually a beautiful wedding dress. The hair
was a blond wig stuck to my head. And Ilona's makeup had
totally transformed me into an alluring woman. Only if
you looked closely could you see my penis showing
occasionally.
The squat man was now at the end of his rope. That is,
he was pulling it all the way out and pushing it all the
way in. I looked at the monitor and saw a close up of it
coming out, leaving a huge hole that tried to close
before his penis came back, but it was so wide that it
could only shut half way before the snake entered again.
I couldn't believe that huge opening was mine, but I
could definitely feel the agony every time he pulled
out.
Now the man took one of my ankles in each hand and
pulled my legs over his shoulders. Then he pushed
forward, lifting my rear off the couch as he continued
to push in and out and pick up his pace.
He was not only pushing his snake in, but he was also
now bumping my rear each time he pushed at me. The bumps
got faster and faster and the springs in the couch
responded by bumping me back up. Between the bumps from
the man and the couch, I was like a bouncing ball out of
control. Every time I slammed up into the man, the pain
was so intense that I shrieked, and then I shrieked
again a second later, because as we flew apart, it felt
like my insides were being ripped out of me.
Finally he slowed down and pulled out. As he lifted me
up, turned me over and lifted my legs up so that I was
on all fours, I was felt like a wet mop that couldn't
move. He got behind me, and this time he quickly touched
bottom, and there was nothing to do but once again
endure those awful thrusts.
He pulled out and turned me around on the huge couch, as
big as a small bed, and stood over me. I looked at the
monitor and saw him squatting down over my ass and
pushing his snake back into me. Now he was going
straight up and down. As he gradually increased his
speed, the bumping began again. This time, my entire
body, up on all fours, was bouncing up and down crazily
as if I were on a trampoline. I was in constant agony by
this time and hardly knew what was happening to me.
As I thought to myself that soon this must end because
he had to be close to an orgasm, he grabbed me around
the waist, fell back and pulled me on top of him so I
was impaled between his legs but facing away from him.
Then he swung himself around so that he was sitting on
the couch facing the lights.
He tried for a moment to bounce on the couch to continue
pushing in and out, but my dead weight on top of him
kept him from moving much. Then he grabbed me behind the
knees and lifted me and rolled me back so that my feet
were on his thighs. After they were planted there, he
used his hands to lift my rear up and until I was up in
the air above him, with about five inches of his snake
pulled free. Now he had the space to thrust, and he
really went to town from below me, moving lightning fast
up and down. I was out of control and couldn't stop
screaming. Then he said his first words to me, softly in
a thick Hungarian accent: "Pull your cheeks apart."
I didn't respond, either because I didn't want to or
most likely because I was so out if it, I didn't
understand what he wanted. Then he seemed to turn on
some extra energy because he was going even faster in
and out of me. I was frantic from the awful punishment
to my insides. He slowed down again and repeated, "Pull
your cheeks apart."
This time I heard him clearly. My hands were hanging
down my sides, but now I took my right hand and put it
on my right cheek and my left hand on the left and
pulled the cheeks apart as much as I could while he
continued to pound in between.
Suddenly, he grabbed me behind the knees and pulled me
quickly back. I heard a loud gurgling, followed by a
popping sound as he wrenched his thing all the way out
of me. Some of the lubricant came out and dripped down
onto the couch. In another second, he quickly lowered me
back onto him and was inside me and pounding away once
more. Then he again pulled me back and I heard that loud
pop again as he quickly came out.
He continued to repeat this, and I was almost out of my
mind from the pain. I saw us again on the monitor and
once again saw the huge dark hole he was opening between
my cheeks.
Then the unfamiliar march music started playing again,
and he stopped. I sat on his lap with him completely
inside of me and tried to catch my breath. As the music
got softer again, the formal voice of the announcer
said, "The princess's wedding night, part two. The
prince consummates his marriage."
As he spoke, a figure who had been watching me from the
dark stepped into the light. It was the transformed
Magda, and she had a smile on her face. But I didn't
look at her face long, because my eye noticed something
new. Her arms were hidden under the folds of her
multilayered costume, but sticking out from the place
between her legs was a giant dildo.
It was not like any dildo I had ever seen. It was at
least two feet long and wider than a role of paper
towels. It was black and in the shape of a man's penis.
But if this penis were forced into anyone, it would
split the person in two.
I was so frightened that my scream caught in my throat
as Magda walked up to me and the squat man on the couch.
The huge dildo was at eye level. Then the man grabbed me
again by the thighs, lifted me up and began slowly to
push into and out of me. As he did so, he said again,
"Pull your cheeks apart."
I followed his instructions in a daze, and he went
faster and faster for 30 seconds or so, and then once
again he popped out of me, and more lubricant escaped.
There must have been a gallon inside me.
As he did, I saw the giant black dildo move, and I
manged to scream in my high squeal. But the dildo didn't
come toward me. Instead, it seemed to get wider and
wider and then split in two. I saw it was just a casing,
and inside were two slender bare arms and hands,
Magda's. Magda stepped closer to my hole that was
gradually getting smaller. She stuck one of her fingers
inside, then a second, then a third. I barely felt them
until I closed around them. Then she pulled them slowly
out and looked at her fingers, greasy from all the lube
inside me, and smiled at me.
I didn't have time to respond, because the man was back
inside of me and pounding. My hands were still pulling
my cheeks apart and once again he lifted me up. I felt
my hole was a huge open pit, and this time, Magda
quickly stuck four fingers inside.
She began to push them rapidly in and out. Then I saw
her add her thumb. After a minute of all the fingers
going in and out, she stopped with the five fingers
inside me, and I felt them begin to press. When the
second knuckles of her fingers entered me, my voice was
almost gone, so my screaming wasn't as loud. The sound
of me gasping for air was much louder.
Then it started feeling like I was being ripped apart.
The fleshy part of her hand below the thumb was being
pushed into me, the widest part of her hand. I grunted
and squirmed and squealed and then my breath went out of
me. She was through. Her hand had pushed into me all the
way to the wrist.
She stopped and took some deep breaths. Then she looked
at me with her special smile of satisfaction. I
recognized it from the way she looked when she was
telling me about some expensive house she had closed. It
was a wide grin, from ear to ear.
She watched my face as she started playing inside me. I
felt a painful fluttering in my bowels. She was moving
her fingers around inside me. Then she started twisting
the hand around slowly as I squirmed and squealed. As
she was twisting, she began to push a little again.
Then she stopped twisting and just pushed softly but
insistently straight in. Lubricant continued to squirt
out around her arm as she pushed it. The elbow stopped
her for a while, but she just continued to push softly,
and I saw the elbow go inside. She kept pushing until
her bicep disappeared and she was in all the way to her
shoulder. Then she stopped and gave me that special
smile again. I felt like I was about to split in two.
She leaned over toward my ear and whispered one word,
"See?" It was as if she were saying, "I told you I could
do it." She could all right, but I felt like she was
pulling my guts out as she began pulling her arm out.
Finally, the hand came out, along with a big gob of
lubricant. Then she began pushing back again, not fast,
but faster than before. The hand didn't need as much
effort to get through this time although the violation
was still a shock.
I was still sitting on the man's lap, and he had his
arms around me. Magda was working her hand in and out.
Now Juliska came to the couch and sat at my right facing
me. She grabbed some of the lubricant that had leaked
copiously all over the couch, bent down, grabbed my
shriveled-up member and began to stroke it.
I was feeling so much pain that I didn't respond. After
a few minutes of trying to stimulate my shriveled
noodle, she left and came back in few seconds with some
kind of device that looked like a transparent suction
cup connected to a tube attached to a tiny machine. She
put the suction cup up against the end of the shrunken
noodle and turned on the machine.
It was very quiet, and at first I thought nothing was
happening. Then I felt a slight tug from the suction
cup. It was sucking me in very gently and then releasing
me. I thought, this is never going to arouse me. I
looked quizzically at Juliska, and she returned my look
and whispered with a smile, "Breast pump." Then I
noticed my noodle was moving. Even though the suction
was barely noticeable, I was starting to respond.
This was despite Magda's hand, which was now moving in
and out to the same rhythm as the breast pump. Though
the pump made barely a sound, the hand going in and out
made a sucking sound. My joystick was getting hard.
Magda looked at it and smiled.
Next thing I knew I was ready to let loose and the
sensations of forced pleasure and forced discomfort
increased at the same time. My breath was beginning to
speed up. "Not yet," said Magda, and Juliska took the
suction cup away. My body tried to follow it, and then
another wave of pain hit me as Magda pulled her hand out
of me.
She took each of my slippery hands away from my cheeks
and let them fall to my side. Then she hugged me with
both hands around my back and pulled me to her. The
squat man slid out from under me and walked away.
Magda lowered me back onto the couch and knelt on a
large pillow in front of me, as if she was going to take
the shriveled noodle into her mouth. Instead, she lifted
my legs onto her shoulders and inserted one finger
inside me and started to move it slowly in and out. Then
she put in a finger from the other hand and moved the
fingers in and out together.
I felt someone behind me grab my feet and pull them off
Magda's shoulders. I turned my head slightly and saw it
was Ilona, standing behind the couch. She was pulling my
feet back over my shoulders and wide apart. This caused
me to slide on the lubricated couch until my rear was
hanging over the edge. Then she locked an arm around
each ankle and held me in that position.
Magda meanwhile added a second finger from each hand and
then a third. Six fingers were moving in and out as I
felt Juliska's hand on my noodle again. She tried to
arouse it but once again failed. Back came the breast
pump and the gentle tugging. By this time Magda had
eight fingers going in and out of me in the same slow
rhythm with the breast pump. Plop plop squish squish and
my panting were the only sounds as I was stretched wider
than before.
When she saw my noodle becoming stiff again, Magda put
her whole right hand in, up to the wrist and pulled it
out at the same rhythm as the four fingers of the left
hand and the pump. I was getting ready to spurt and
breathing fast.
Juliska quickly removed the pump, and for the first time
I also felt pain coming from my testicles as I drooped
down again. Magda kept going with her hands and fingers,
and I heard her laugh as she said, "Pull your cheeks
apart." I looked at her but didn't do anything. She
nodded to where she was working on my body, and then her
hand and fingers were speeding up. I twisted frantically
trying to find any position that was slightly less
agonizing, but I couldn't.
"Pull your cheeks apart," she said again, and this time
I did, and she slowed to her previous rhythm. Juliska's
hand was on my noodle again. This time it responded
slightly to her ministrations, but when it didn't
progress much, back came the pump. It didn't take long
to get me to full attention this time, and as I was
pulling my cheeks apart, Magda began putting her left
hand completely inside of me along with the right. Now
both hands were going in and out together in time with
the pump.
Then the left hand stopped inside of me as the right
hand came out. Then it came out as the other went in.
Magda was now pulling out and pushing in at the same
time. I couldn't tell which was more painful, the hands
going in together or one hand pulling out while the
other pushed in.
As my breathing got faster, the pump was removed again.
Now Magda changed her moves. The left hand was still
going in and out, but the right hand was pushing in
beyond the wrist. Once again Juliska's hand was on me.
This time I sprang up immediately and she played with me
by speeding up her hand and then slowing it down.
When Magda's right arm was in up to the elbow, she began
to push the left hand in too. As she did, Juliska kept
speeding up and slowing down, bringing me to the edge
and then stopping me.
At last, both of Magda's arms were in me up to the
elbow. I couldn't believe it. Now Magda was twisting
them around slowly because she could barely move them.
My entire body was engulfed in pain, and I was frantic.
It was so bad that I was astonished at how my member was
responding to Juliska's hand and how I was feeling the
urgency of an orgasm building up in my testicles. Then
Magda shifted so that instead of facing me, she was
facing more to the side. Her arms inside of me pulled me
around a little as she did this. Her head turned toward
the lights and she smiled in that direction. I was
facing that direction, too.
Juliska stopped playing with me and leaned forward and
whispered into my right ear. "Do it yourself," she said.
"No, you do it," I said in my high, funny voice.
But she didn't touch me again, and as I withered, I felt
a stronger pain in my testicles competing with the pain
caused by Magda's arms inside me. When I was down to a
noodle, she brought the pump back, and within a few
seconds, I was fully aroused again and ready to explode.
But she quickly turned it off and said, again, "Do it
yourself."
Again, I said, "No, you do it," and then shrieked as the
pump was taken off and the pain again kicked into my
testicles. When I was once more shriveled up, she turned
the pump back on and repeated the process.
"Do it yourself," Juliska said again as she took a gob
of the lubricant that now coated the couch and put it in
my hand. This time I didn't wait for the pain. I put my
hand around myself and started to stroke. Magda was
trying to move both arms and breathing hard while facing
the lights and smiling. I started to breathe hard, too.
"Look up and smile," said Juliska. I looked up quickly,
but with the urgent feeling in front and the anguish at
my rear, all I could do was pant, grimace and groan. I
heard the fast clicking of a professional camera,
snapping away at the same rhythm as my hand. The
lubricant continued to ooze out of me as Magda slowly
twisted her arms inside me. Snap, snap, snap, snap.
Pant, pant, pant, pant. Squish, plop, squish, plop. The
sounds were a perverted rhythm of pain and lust.
Suddenly I felt I was about to come. Juliska must have
noticed something, too, because she said, "High in the
air." I aimed it high, and when I exploded, it looked
like a fountain spurting white cream. I noticed Juliska
leaning in to Magda and me and smiling in the direction
of the lights along with Magda and the rapid sound of
the camera taking pictures.
I was finished in every way as I spurted my last drop,
and Magda slowly pulled out one of her arms and then the
other.
She left, and I was half carried to the dressing room by
Juliska, Ilona and the squat man. They took off my dress
and put my clothes back on. I felt as though my insides
were mush as they walked me and Magda to a cab that
brought us back to the hotel, where I collapsed onto the
bed and slept a troubled sleep. In the morning I could
barely take a shower or move in any way without feeling
tremendous pain in my rear.
Magda and I barely talked on the way to the airport or
during the flight. At home, we pretended like nothing
happened, although the pain lasted more than two weeks,
and the kids must have been wondering about the way I
walked. The next Saturday, when the kids were out of the
house, a package arrived from Budapest, and Magda
eagerly opened it. There was a DVD inside, a note to her
from Juliska and a photo for me. The photo was in a
cardboard frame, embossed with the title "Souvenir of
Budapest." It was a picture of a man dressed as a woman
sitting on a couch with a woman dressed as a man in
front of him, smiling. Both her hands are up to her
elbows inside him. The man is holding his member, which
is spurting up in the air like a fountain. There's
another woman behind him, leaning over with her face
next to his. She's smiling, too. The man's face is
twisted in agony. No one could tell who they were, but I
knew.
I ripped the photo into shreds and yelled at Magda,
"Please tell me what in the hell is this all about."
She smiled her mischievous smile. "Baby, I just wanted
to add a little spice to our life," she said. "Remember
the night when I was angry about you being scared to try
something new? When I got to my computer, there was a
message from Juli telling me she had just gone to work
for a website called teachmetofistmyboyfriend.com. She
said they got young Hungarian couples and young tourists
to do videos for the site, so I went and looked at what
they were doing.
"That's when I came up with my idea. Juli said they
weren't too eager when I told them how much we would
have to be disguised so that nobody would know who we
were, but I promised them that I'd write a special story
that people would love to see. And I was right. It's the
most popular video on the site. They sent me a copy of
the edited version on the DVD, as well as all the
original footage and still photos.
"But best of all, look at this." She reached into the
bottom of the box and pulled out a money order. "They
think they're going to make so much money on this that
they're paying us $20,000 for our work, more than triple
what they usually pay. Our whole trip to Hungary is paid
for, and we have enough for the next trip."
"There's not going to be a next trip!" I yelled. "I'm
never again going anywhere where you know the language
and I don't. And I don't ever want to hear about this
again or want you to tell anyone else."
"Of course, I won't tell anyone," said Magda. "Now that
I know for sure that you aren't into this kind of thing,
we'll never discuss it again." She winced when I broke
the DVD in two, but I'm certain she received another
copy from Juliska.
We still have a good marriage and a good love life. I
try to respond when she wants to do something unusual,
and we vary things a lot more than we ever did. But
sometimes she just goes too far.
When she does, we don't fight about it. She usually
says, "I'm going to go to my office and do email or
maybe watch some video." I've never asked her what video
she's going to watch because I don't want to know the
answer.
One thing still concerns me. One day four years after
our vacation, she proudly mentioned that our video is
still the favorite one on teachmetofistmyboyfriend.com,
and women from all over the world were downloading it.
Maybe this is why every once in a while I meet a woman
who looks closely at me and says, "Haven't we met?"
I'm not too worried about that, because no one could
ever recognize me through the disguise. What worries me
is that unusual birth mark of Magda's. It's tiny but
distinctive and is on her left thigh, right where it
meets her pubic hair. Unless I pull her bush aside, it
usually can't be seen. She told me one night that it
shows up for a fraction of a second in the online
version of the video, but she had to go back and forth
slowly a few times to make sure she actually saw it.
The trouble is that Magda's still proud of her figure,
and she works out regularly at a health club near us. I
told her that I've seen her secret mark sometimes when
she gets out of the shower at home and dries herself. I
made her promise to never shower at the club, but
sometimes, when she's in a hurry to get to a closing,
she forgets her promise.
Last week, she told me she met a nice woman at the
health club and we're going out for dinner with her and
her husband. I didn't mention my thoughts to Magda,
because she'd tell me I'm paranoid, and I know that the
odds are infinitesimal that this new friend saw the
video, saw Magda taking a shower, saw the mark and put
it all together. But still...
END
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with
others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't
okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with people other than
a trusted partner. 4-million people around the world
contract HIV every year. You only have one body per
lifetime, so take good care of it!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Kristen's collection - Directory 79