Backdoor Woman
A retro digital clock flashes from 2-52am to 2-53am. Outside a small isolated holiday home in rural Montana thunder rumbles and lightning flashes, cutting blinding darts through the blacker than black sky, rain cutting chunks from the soil, and rushing through the gutters for its dear life. An almost empty glass of red wine lies on the bedside locker, a container of freshly used lube beside it. Aromatherapy candles are glowing low in the cramped space surrounding a four poster bed, the curtains open as the area is completely isolated, a mile off a dirt-track, 4 miles from the nearest home. On it is Katharina, 39 years old, Japanese, devastatingly beautiful, perfectly chiselled high cheekbones, eyes bluer than the ocean, full natural breasts, and medium length straight natural brown hair. She is slim, preferring to work out, maybe a little too often, but anyhow, and recently divorced with 2 sons in their early teens.
Feeling a lot better than she could have imagined after the experience, she still decides to take some time to discover herself and takes advantage of a kind offer from a work colleague who lets her spend the weekend in her property, free of charge. Katharina hasn’t really felt much emotionally or sexually for men in recent years, she hasn’t turned into a misandrist or anything like that, far from it, being a sensual woman who frequently practises white magic. Bad karma and hatred just isn’t her bag. Tonight however, it is self love that is on top of her agenda. She has platted her hair, as she hasn’t done for years, after spending two hours in a hot bath, caressing her cunt and gently teasing her rock hard brown nipples between her thumbs and her index fingers, cumming at least 15 times. Numbers don’t really matter to her, as she hasn’t felt this good since that experience with 1980s lesbian porn 3 years ago, when alone one afternoon she discovered her then husband’s old VHS collection, and before she knew it was masturbating to the sight of Sharon Mitchell aggressively scissoring Ginger Lynn.
Now she was lying flat face down on her bed, totally naked except for her favourite pair of $450 red patent stiletto pumps, her back arched upwards, the scent of jasmine wafting up into her nose. Moving in perfect rhythm to the rain, she was masturbating her heavily lubed anus with a silver dildo, moaning more and more as every bolt of lightning discharged somewhere, sighing with every release, echoing the electric impulses that surged through her as her painfully tight sweaty hairy stinking asshole came closer to its first orgasm, farting uncontrollably. Staring at her own eyes in the mirror was the final spark, her anus sucking in tighter than a vacuum cleaner on the ice cold slippery dildo as she groaned helplessly and submitted to its hold on her before passing out.
As she dreamed, she imagined it was one of those retro Lesbian porn stars who was wanking her anus, maybe Nina Hartley, or Sharon Kane, wearing black leather knee length boots and revelling in the power she had over Katharina. Maybe Amber Lynn could walk in just as she came, massaging her shoulders and turning her over she could feast on her throbbing cunt, all these thoughts created the ultimate fantasy in this woman’s perfect weekend.
She repeated the exact same procedure Saturday night too, this time hiring out a somewhat skanky prostitute earlier in the evening, posing as a man online, and paying for her long taxi ride. She was a rather chubby woman with tattoos and poorly dyed red hair in her late 40s who immediately hid her disgust when Katharina waved 700 bucks of divorce money in front of her, surprisingly getting quickly used to kissing another woman on the lips, licking her patent red pumps, fingering her cunt, and even sliding her gin stained tongue deep into Katharina’s welcoming shithole. Hell, she even consented to Katharina’s filthiest demand, slapping her face and shouting “Let me lick your tongue so I can taste my pussy and anus you fucking skanky whore!!!”, the skank’s fowl alcohol and shitty breath making the paymaster even hornier, angrily finger fucking her rubbery anus in return without a care for the whore’s questionable hygiene, biting her lip and looking her deep in the eye with an erotic smile as she tried in vain to hide her anal orgasm. Saturday night’s conditions were even more aggressive than the previous night, and Katharina was going to get every cent from that 700 bucks, the party hadn’t even started yet…