Bob and Becky 2 – Becky Goes Deeper

This is a continuation of "Bob and Becky 1 - Becky's Secrets." All characters are eighteen or older.

Bob and Becky 2 - Becky Goes Deeper

Confessions for Cover

"What you did yesterday was really hot. My mom is visiting my dad this weekend. Do you want to come over?"

The text from Bob frustrates and entices me. Sure, I woke up this morning still horny from dreaming about displaying myself naked, almost getting caught by Bob's mom, and performing oral sex on people like my older sister did in the pictures I saw yesterday. Still, I feel dirty for my actions and desires.

I text back. "We should not be texting about this. Texts are not secure. I will meet you after school where I did yesterday to talk about it." Bob text back a thumbs up emoji and a heart.

My phone shows the message from Nancy. I put the name Nancy in my phone with Bob's number. I did this to prevent Bob's name from appearing on my phone.

If Casey, my sister, learns I am seeing her ex-boyfriend, I will never hear the end of it. Still, Casey will recognize the number if she ever sees my phone's address book. At least, "Bob" will not flash on the screen every time I receive a call or text from him.

My mind thinks about what I did yesterday. It did really turn me on. Though, I am a bit ashamed by what I did. I was not very ladylike. Still, the impropriety enhances the excitement. Do I want to do it again this weekend? The thought makes me tingle.

I consider what spending the weekend at Bob's would involve. I put aside what I might do there. Thinking about that gets me so excited and anxious that I cannot think straight. Instead, I concentrate on the practicalities.

I will need a reason for being away from home. It will need to pass muster with my parents and Casey. I settle back on working a school project at Cindy's house.

Cindy and I have had sleepovers regularly for years. Cindy last slept at my place a few months ago when my parents were away. That was when Casey spent the weekend at Bob's. Although, my parents did not know Casey's activities. They did know Cindy stayed the night. Unlike Casey, we had nothing to hide.

Casey and Bob had a big fight. Casey came home furious. As I reflect, I realize that must have been when the pictures of her I just received were taken. It gets my mind fantasizing again. It is a rough morning for concentrating on schoolwork.

At lunch, I eat with Cindy. Cindy has us take our lunches outside. She leads me a picnic table farthest from the door. The weather is clear but cool. Nobody else is nearby.

I immediately learn why Cindy wanted us alone. As soon as we get seated, she inquires, "What have you been doing." At first, I refuse to say. She counters, "I covered for you. I deserve to know the juicy details."

I still do not want to say, but I also need cover for this weekend. I decide I need a confidant. I firmly state, "Nobody can know. Especially, not Casey! Promise!" Cindy looks a little shocked at the sternness of my tone. Then, she giggles and quips, "This must really be juicy."

After a pause, Cindy smiles and comments, "Okay, spill your guts." I retort, "You haven't promised yet." Cindy feigns being insulted for having her integrity and loyalty questioned. "I have never given away one of your secrets. I never will." Then, she grins and adds, "Okay. If it makes you feel better, I promise. Now, spill it."

I still hesitate. I trust Cindy. I just feel unsure exactly what to say. Finally, I blurt out, "I went over to Bob's house last night!" Cindy looks stunned. "Bob? Your sister's old boyfriend?" I respond, "Yes, he invited me. We met after school, and he took me to his house."

We quietly eat for a few minutes and stare at each other. Eventually, Cindy inquires, "How did this happen? I did not think he even knew you existed. What did you and Bob do? Did you make out?"

I feel my face flush. Cindy notices. She knows me too well. She exclaims, "You did!"

In the nervous embarrassment of my memories, I regurgitate, "That is not the half of it." I immediately regret saying it. Cindy hits me with an onslaught of questions. I just stammer, but I do not really speak any words. I am totally flustered.

Cindy quiets. She looks me in the eye and instructs, "Take deep breaths." I obey. It helps relax me. It almost feels hypnotic. Then, she sternly demands, "Now, tell me from the beginning." My shocking confession flows.

I wind up telling everything. I discussed how I found my sister's naked pictures. I admit how I wrote a paper fantasizing about it being me instead of my sister. I reveal how Casey caught me masturbating to her pictures and got me to give her a picture of me and a copy of my fantasy story.

Cindy looked on in interested surprise. However, she never interrupts. I babble about everything.

I continue by telling how she told Bob. Bob offered to make my Fantasy come true. I wound up stripping and posing for Bob and his camera. I divulge how aroused it made me feel to pose naked and obey Bob's commands. It was humiliating, but I got turned on by doing it. The wickedness of it all was thrilling.

I explain how Casey and Bob broke up a few weeks later. Monday, Bob invited me to his house. I went after school yesterday. His mom was out. I posed naked again. I even tell how Bob's mom came home and almost caught me naked. I describe all of the details about everything and how it made me feel.

Then, I mention, "This morning Bob texted that he will be home alone all weekend. He invited me over. I think I want to go."

Cindy finally speaks. Her own face looks a bit red. "Spend the weekend at Bob's house? What does he want to do? What do you want to do? What will you do?"

I cut off her questions. "I don't know. This was not a conversation I wanted to have over text. I am meeting him by the gym after school to discuss it."

The bell to end lunch interrupts our conversation. Cindy states, "We need to talk more about this. I have a thousand questions. I will see you after school."

We toss our trash and hurry back. I barely make it to my next class on time. I find it difficult to concentrate on my studies. My mind keeps thinking about being naked all weekend at Bob's house. Part of me wishes it were warm enough for skinny-dipping.

Making Plans

After school, I head for the gym. I see Cindy waiting there just outside the door. I had not invited her, but I had told her I planned to meet Bob.

Cindy smiles and waves. I walk up to her. It feels awkward. After a moment of silence, I ask, "What are you doing here?" Cindy answers, "I said we needed to talk more. I want to know what is really happening. You owe me all the details if you want me to cover for you."

I respond, "Okay. We can go to my house and talk after I talk to Bob." Cindy counters, "I want to see the pictures." She seems a bit eager. After thinking a minute, I finally agree. Cindy is my best friend. I know I can trust her.

Bob drives up. He opens the window and waves me over. I tell Cindy, "Wait here." I go to talk to Bob.

I nervously smile. Bob says, "What's up with Cindy? Did you tell her about us?" I explain, "Being at her place is my excuse for not being home. I had to tell her a little. We can trust her."

Bob wants more information about her. I change the subject to this weekend. It distracts him thoroughly.

I asks, "If I come over, what well we do?"

Bob answer, "Anything. We can play games, watch movies, and talk. Whatever you want. We will have the house to ourselves, so we can do anything."

I counter, "Take pictures?"

Bob smiles. "Sure. If you want to. I would love to take more picture of you."

I flip it. "Can I take nude pictures of you?"

Bob seems stunned. He starts to say something. Then, he sees my expression. He finally says, "I guess so. We can do whatever we want." He seems much more enthusiastic about getting me naked than posing himself.

We make logistical plans. Bob will pick me up here on Friday after school. Otherwise, we keep it flexible.

Bob offers me a ride home. I remind him I am with Cindy. He reluctantly agrees to give her a ride. I wonder what he had planned that he does not want Cindy along. My dark fantasies run wild.

I wave Cindy to come over. I explain, "Bob is giving us a ride to my house."

I get in the front while Cindy gets in the back seat. The ride to my house is quiet. Bob does place his hand on my thigh. I have Bob drop us off around the corner. Casey might be home. I do not want her to see us getting out of Bob's car.

Bob kisses me goodbye. Cindy teasingly makes kissy faces as soon as Bob drives away. She is enjoying this way too much.

Cindy follows with questions about what Bob said and what we planned to do this weekend. I tell her. She asks, "Well you go." I answer, "Probably." She inquires, "What will you do?" I admit, "I do not know. Probably, whatever Bob tells me to do."

We head to my bedroom. Cindy immediately says, "Let me see the pictures." After a brief argument. I pop my special flash drive in my computer. I show my pictures from Tuesday first. I find Cindy's excitement and complimentary comments exhilarating.

Cindy has lots of questions as we look at my pictures. Most involve how I felt while posing for them. She does not appear judgmental. She just seems fascinated. I think she lives vicariously through me. She comments how brave and daring I am. She emphasizes she would be too timid to ever pose naked.

We move on to my previous pictures. Cindy also wants to see the naked pictures of Bob and Casey. She seems more interested in the pictures of Bob than Casey.

Cindy wants copies of everything. She says she wants to read my fantasies. I make her a brand-new thumb drive and give her copies of everything. I do make her password protect the drive while I watch and promise not to show anything to anybody else.

We discuss my alibi for the weekend. Cindy explains, "You can tell your parents and Casey we are working on a school project at my house. I will cover for you if they talk to me. However, I cannot fake it with my parents. If your mom talks to my mom, we are both in trouble."

Cindy and I make some plans to put my mom at ease. When my mom gets home, we head down to the kitchen where my mom has started dinner. We say hi to my mom.

I say to Cindy, "Goodnight. See you at school tomorrow." Cindy announces, "We can finish the science project at my house this weekend. It will probably take a lot of time. You can stay the whole weekend if you want."

Turning to my mom, I say, "We are working on a science project. I will stay at Cindy's Friday night to work on it. I will probably stay Saturday night too, but we will see how it goes." My mom asks a few questions about the project. She seems to buy the story.

Naked Weekend at Bob's House

Friday morning, I pack my laptop in my backpack. This will support my story of working on a science project. I also slip in a change of clothes and my toothbrush. I do not want to wear the same outfit home Sunday as I wear to school Friday.

Bob picks me up outside the gym as planned. He gives me a kiss. I kiss back. He drives straight to his house. We go inside, and he gets me another funny tasting coke and a beer for himself.

We sit on the couch and awkwardly chat. It is the usual small talk. We discuss school, the weather, and other meaningless things.

Finally, Bob says, "Do you want to pose for some more pictures?" He does not mention nudity, but we both know what he wants. Part of me wants it too. It feels exciting, but another part of me feels anxious. That part screams, "This is wrong. People will find out. You will be humiliated."

Bob pulls out his phone and directs. I instinctively obey. After several pictures, he has me undressing.

Soon, I am stark naked. My face feels flush. I am unsure if embarrassment or arousal causes the affliction.

Once I am naked, the poses turn more erotic and submissive. Many of them are on my knees or on my hands and knees. Bob seems to relish making my positions and expressions as sexually suggestive as possible.

I spend lots of time with my legs spread and my chest thrust forward. I overtly display my private parts. I use my hands to spread my butt cheeks on rear shots so my butthole shows. It feels humiliating, yet I always obey Bob's direction. I get excited by the kinkier poses. Bob seems to relish them too.

After over an hour of posing completely naked. I suggest Bob take a turn as the nude model. Bob does not agree or disagree. He says, "How about we take a break." He collects my clothes and announces, "Let me hang these in the laundry room, so they will not get wrinkled. Then, I will freshen our drinks.

Bob disappears with my clothes. He leaves me standing naked in the family room looking at Bob's family pictures hanging on the wall. Most show Bob and his sister when they were younger.

Bob returns with another soda for me and a beer for himself. He motions to the couch. I join him there. Bob snuggles up to me. He reaches around my back and pulls us together. His hand plays with my breast. He kisses my lips and his other hand rubs my crotch.

It feels nice. I let him do what he wants to me. It feels enticing. My exposed vulnerability contrasts with his fully covered invincibility. My pliant nature willingly submits to his masterful dominance. I feel safe yet controlled. I melt at his touch and surrender to his commands.

My body tingles in submissive acquiescence. I belong to Bob. I will do whatever he wants.

Bob compliments me on how willingly I take his direction. He says, "Casey always wanted everything her way. You listen better. You never refuse what I want."

Right now, Bob desires more pictures of us with me naked and him fully clothed. He sets the timer on the camera. He props his phone against a glass. He presses the button and snuggles up to me. Seconds later, it takes our picture.

We take several more timed shots. He gropes me more aggressively in each successive shot. Then, we review the pictures. It feels a bit humiliating looking at the pictures of us together with me completely naked while Bob is fully clothed.

Still, I think I look hot in the pictures. It also makes me feel a little horny. Subconsciously, my hand starts moving to my pussy. I want to masturbate like when I am looking at the pictures at home. Suddenly, I realize what my hand does. I need to willfully stop myself. It would be mortifying if Bob knew how aroused this makes me.

Bob wants more couple pictures with me naked. I do too. I just do not want to admit it. I do have a reputation of innocence to uphold.

The camera app has an option to take multiple timed pictures in a row. Bob sets it to take a dozen pictures at ten second intervals. This allows us to change poses between each shot.

Bob places his phone back against the glass. He presses the button icon. The phone slides to the side and begins taking pictures of the ceiling every ten second. Bob stops the camera, deletes the ceiling pictures, and resets everything.

This time, things work as planned. As the phone counts down ten seconds, Bob grabs me by the waist and lifts me onto his lap. I notice the ease with which Bob lifts me. I have never experienced his physical strength before now.

As the phone counts down, Bob and I look at the camera. We freeze. It snaps a picture.

Bob repositions me, so my body faces directly at the camera. My legs protrude down on either side of his legs. It forces me to spread my knees.

With his hands, Bob holds my hands down at my hips. Both our arm hang at our sides. It prevents me from concealing anything with my hands. The camera flashes to take the next picture.

Bob cups and lifts the underside of my breast. Part of me wants to cover my crotch with my now free hands. I resist the temptation. It feels titillating to be so naughty.

For the next few pictures, Bob uses his thumbs to play with my nipples while still lifting my breast with his fingers. He also moves his head to kiss my cheek. The tenderness of the kiss contrast with the overt fingering of my breast. It feels erotic.

After the flash, I turn my head to kiss Bob on his lips. We stay frozen in the kiss until the flash. Then, Bob orders, "Look at the camera and open your mouth seductively." I obey to the best of my ability.

In the next pose, Bob spreads his knees. It forces me to spread my legs wider. Now, I am blatantly showing my pussy to the camera. I blush and feel myself getting wet at the impish pose.

As soon as the camera flashes, Bob moves his hands to my inner thighs. He squeezes my leg gently. The sensation of his firm fingers gripping my flesh only inches from my pussy feels tantalizing.

Bob moves his fingers to my pussy. He begins fingering my pussy like the strings of a violin. He has never shown me any musical talent, but I find his technique feels exquisite.

My mind gets caught in the sensation. I realize Bob fingers me similar to how I masturbate myself. It feels even more erotic when someone else touches me down there. My mind melts.

Suddenly, Bob's fingers retreat. Their absence leaves me longing for their tender touch. My brain returns to reality. I realize Bob is resetting the camera.

Once restarted, Bob grabs my waist and flips me over. He lays me out flat face down along the couch with my crotch resting on his lap. He turns my head, so my face stares at the camera. Bob begins to spank my bare ass.

I was basically a fairly good child, and my parents used time-outs instead of corporal punishment. I do not remember ever being spanked. The act of spanking me and the speed and force used to position me submissively across his lap has me stunned.

The pain feels minimal, but the situation is shocking. After ten slaps, Bob slips his hand between my legs. He feels the wetness in my pussy. He knows how sexually excited I feel. My body tingles. At that moment, he could get me to passively perform anything.

Bob's hands again go to my waist. He lifts and turns my body. I end up facing Bob with my knees straddling his lap. My pussy rubs against his crotch. It feels his hard cock beneath the zipper of his blue jeans.

Bob's powerful arms reach around my back. He pins my arms at my side. He pulls us tightly together. My exposed tits press against his chest beneath his flannel shirt. My pelvis squirms rubbing my pussy on the front of his jeans. Bob passionately kisses me. He controls me. He owns me. I belong to him.

Gradually, Bob releases the pressure. My brain returns to reality. I realize the phone has stopped flashing. Bob must have set it for a lot more than a dozen pictures, but I do not know how many. Bob's hands playfully rub my ass. I do not stop him. It actually feels good.

Bob gives me one last kiss before stating, "I am hungry. Let's order pizza. What toppings do you like?" The abrupt change in tone startles me. Eventually, I answer. Bob rejects my answer and suggests his preferred choice. I passively go with his preferences. Bob takes his phone and places the order.

Bob sets his phone aside. He lifts me off his lap. He goes to the kitchen returns with fresh drinks.

The delivery app tracks the status of the delivery. When the pizza gets ten minutes away, Bob firmly states, "When the pizza arrives, I want you to answer the door."

I state the obvious. "But, I am naked." Bob responds, "I know. That will make it funny. It will make good pictures." I object, "I can't do that. This is a small town. The driver might recognize me. Rumors travel. My reputation will be destroyed! It might get back to my family."

Bob reaches into the end-table drawer. He pulls out a twenty-dollar bill, a baseball cap, and a pair of sun glasses. He sets them on the coffee table.

He explains, "That should hide your identity. Besides, I can assure you the guy will not be staring at your face. It is my house. Nobody knows we are together. Nobody will suspect you. Just open the door, hand him the twenty, and take the pizza. You will have the door closed before he knows what has happened."

I consider Bob's demand. I find the idea somewhat titillating. It feels so wicked. Bob's arguments are actually surprisingly articulate for him. The staging of the money, hat, and glasses mean he planned it in advance. I put on the hat and glasses and look in the mirror mounted on the wall. Bob snaps a picture.

It feels devilish. I look at my nude image. I look sexy. Even I cannot believe it is my reflection.

The doorbell rings. I capitulate to Bob's wishes and my own naughty desires. I retrieve the money and slowly walk to the front door. I cannot believe I am doing this. It feels alluring.

Bob and his camera follow. He stands off to the side and points the phone at me. I reach for the door handle and hesitate.

The sound of the bell ringing again wakes me from my procrastination. I fling open the door. I feel the cold air hit my bare skin.

The hilarious expression on the delivery drivers face amazes me. He looks shocked as his eyes scan my naked body. Initially, he says nothing. He simply stands there ogling me. It makes me feel vulnerable and powerful at the same time.

I do recognize the guy. It is a small town. Ken was in Bob and Casey's grade in school. Finally, Ken speaks. "Casey? Is that you? I thought you and Bob broke up."

I am astonished. He thinks I am my older sister. He just stands there gazing at me. Eventually, I react. I hand Ken the twenty and grab the pizza and breadsticks. I say, "Thank you," and close the door. Bob cracks up.

My tumultuous emotions flutter. They rank a blend of terror and elation with a few other incomprehensible feelings in the mix. I am astonished and horrified that I did this.

I find the fact that he thought I was Casey both flattering and horrifying. I have always envied Casey's attractiveness and popularity. The misidentification really feeds my ego. However, what if word gets back to Casey? Will she know it was me? Have I inadvertently destroyed my sister's reputation?

Bob's laughter draws my attention. The fact I did this demonstrates his power over me. Did I do this for him, or did my own depraved urges drive me to the dark side. What am I becoming? Am I a horny slut that cannot resist temptation?

Bob grabs me in his arms. He pulls off my hat and glasses. He kisses me. He states, "You really are a lot like your sister. She got turned on by being naked too. Only, you are less pretentious about it. I really like your congenial attitude."

We head back to the couch. Well, Bob steers me, and I follow his guidance. He takes a breadstick, dips it into the marinara sauce holds the tip to my mouth. I obediently take a bite.

Bob dips his finger in the marinara sauce. He rubs the sauce around my nipples. Then, he affectionately licks it off. I quiver. It feels so mischievous.

Bob dips the breadstick back into the marinara sauce. He holds it in front of my face. It looks so phallic. I stick out my tongue and lick the sauce off the end of the symbolic penis. He does it again. This time, he pulls up his phone and photographs my emblematic fellatio. It feels so suggestive and erotic.

Bob sets the breadstick aside. He reaches for his belt buckle. My eyes go to the bulge in his pants.

I take a deep breath. I watch as Bob unclasps his belt. He briefly stands. He towers over me. My eyes stare at his crotch. Bob unbuttons and unzips his jeans. The weight of his belt pulls his pants open. I can see glimpses of his purple underwear peeking out between his zipper.

Bob's fingers go to the sides of his waistband. With one swift motion, he pulls his pants and his underwear down to his knees. His swollen cock pops free. It points accusingly at me.

It is the first dick I have seen in real life. It feels more ominous than in the pictures. It feels like a living predator. I am unsure if I distrust it or myself. My emotions tumble.

Bob sits back down beside me. I watch him place his finger in the marinara sauce and rub the sauce onto his cock.

I gasp. Bob's desires appear obvious. Part of me wants to submit to those wishes. Part of me desires to please him and myself. It just happens so fast.

Bob snaps a picture of me sitting there frozen in stunned silence. He still holds his phone in his other hand. He reaches out to me with his free hand and places it on the back of my neck. He gently pulls my head forward and downward. I obediently comply with his unspoken commands.

My mouth now hovers inches from Bob's cock. A flash tells me Bob still takes pictures. I set the fact aside.

I extend my tongue. Like the breadstick, I lick the marinara sauce from the tip. Bob applies a little more pressure to the back of my neck. I open my mouth and slide onto Bob's dick.

It feels awkward, but I do my best to use my tongue and lips to stimulate Bob's member. I bob my head to generate as much stimulation as I can within the limits of Bob's hand on my neck.

Bob seems to react positively. He moans slightly. His expression goes vacant. His eyes still ogle me, but they appear unfocused.

I continue my oral agitation. Bob's pelvis thrusts forward. His balls awkwardly slap against my chin. Suddenly, my mouth fills with salty goo.

My head instinctively tries to retreat. Bob's hand on the back of my neck prevents that from happening. I gulp the slimy liquid to avoid gagging.

Bob continues to pump. My mouth feels additional shots. I swallow Bob's seed.

I feel Bob's dick slowly go limp in my mouth. Bob releases my neck. His cock slides free. I grab my drink and take a big swig. I swish the liquid to clean my mouth before swallowing the concoction.

My face still hovers near Bob's exposed lap. My stunned brain seems unable to respond to what has happened. I barely comprehend what I have done. I am unsure how to react. My emotions swirl. I take another drink.

Bob pulls up his underwear. His pants soon follow. He buttons and zips his fly. He fastens his belt. Soon, Bob fully restores his clothes. I remain stark naked. I am unsure what to think about the dichotomy of our status.

We return to eating dinner. Bob holds a slice of pizza to my lips. I take a bite. The aftertaste of Bob's seed and my drink make it taste funny. We eat in awkward silence.

I am unsure what to do. This happened too fast. My emotions have not caught up. Part of me wishes to demand Bob give me my clothes and take me home.

Another part of me recalls the pictures of Casey giving Bob fellatio. My sibling rivalry kicks in. It elates that I belong to Bob now. He is my boyfriend. I am his girl instead of Casey. I satisfy him instead of my sister. Still, I feel somewhat degraded. Love is difficult.

After eating, I suggest that Bob pose for me. I would like to get our attire to match. It just seems fairer.

Bob declines my suggestion. He wants to watch a movie. He places the pizza leftovers in the fridges, refreshes our drinks, cozies up to me on the couch, and starts a movie on Netflix. He picks a raunchy romantic comedy. It would not have been my first choice, but I defer to Bob's desires.

We cuddle together. Bob's hands play with my pussy and tits. I enjoy the attention.

I gently caress Bob's dick through his pants and underwear. Part of me resents that Bob's clothes block my access both visually and tactilely while he has unfettered access to me. Still, I feel pleasure and comfort at Bob's carnal touch. I meekly smile and allow Bob free reign.

At the end of the movie, I again suggest, "Bob, why don't you pose for me. It seems only fair since you have already taken so many pictures of me." Bob disagrees, "I want to take more timed shots of us together. We make such a cute couple. Come stand in front of the Christmas tree."

Bob sets his phone to take a series of timed photos. He leans it against a glass on the coffee table pointed towards the tree. He presses the button and joins me.

For the first couple pictures, Bob sweetly embraces me. We smile for the camera as it counts down before adjusting poses as soon as the picture gets taken. Bob keeps quiet. He uses his hands to direct my poses. It feels almost like we dance together like a romantic dream.

Then, Bob orders, "Becky, on your knees." My body moves before my conscious mind comprehends what I am doing. Instantly, I am kneeling before Bob gazing up at him as Bob's phone takes the next picture.

I realize how subservient I must look kneeling naked before Bob in the picture. It also matches the photoshop fantasy pictures I made where I replaced my sister's image with my own. The only difference was that Bob was also naked in those pictures.

That thought gives me a bit of a tingle. Ever since I found my sister's naked pictures, I fantasized about it being me sexually submitting myself in my sister's place. Now, I guess it is me. I just wish Bob was naked too. Not only do I like seeing Bob naked, but it just seems fairer. Still, I say nothing and act as directed.

Bob commands, "Put your hands behind your back, and stick out your chest." I obey. Part of me enjoys obeying Bob. It makes me feel a part of something even if what he demands feels degrading. Actually, part of me gets turned on by Bob's shameful mandates. Obeying them seems so naughtily sinful.

"Now, submissively look up at me and smile." I submit as Bob's phone captures another picture. "Spread your knees wider so that your pussy shows." I blush a little, but I salaciously display my sex to Bob. I feel like such a slut. Part of my mind screams, "This is wrong!"

Nevertheless, part of me relishes the slutty obedience. It reminds me of the old cartoon where a miniature devil and angel stand on the characters shoulders debating some moral conundrum. In my case, the devil occupies the driver's seat and the angel wears a gag and cuffs.

My body ignores the angel. The devil fully controls my muscles and my emotions. He looks a bit like Bob.

"Now, unfasten my pants, and pull out my cock." I look to the bulge in Bob's pants. I reach out and touch it. I undo Bob's belt. I unfasten his pants. I fish out Bob's dick. I stare at it.

I hear Bob's phone take another picture. His engorged cock protrudes inches from my face. It feels like it calls to me like it did in the pictures with my sister. I open my mouth. I lean forward. I take Bob's penis into my mouth.

My lips and tongue go to work obeying Bob's unspoken command. They instinctively stimulate Bob's dick. My tongue swirls around the tip. My lips slide along his shaft.

Unlike earlier today when Bob used his hand on my neck to control my head position, Bob keeps his hands holding up the sides of his pants. Other than a few pelvic thrusts, Bob leaves me in full control. This allows me more motion of my head to stimulate Bob's dick.

I make maximum effort to stimulate Bob. Based on my earlier experience, I know what he wants. Bob's quickening breathing and hardening cock confirms my action.

Soon, Bob's cock fires. I catch his discharge. I even open my mouth towards the camera to display the white liquid and wait for it to take a picture before swallowing.

"Restore my clothing." The order hits hard, yet I obediently follow it. I hoped Bob would undress and join me in my nudity. Maybe, he would even return the favor and give me cunnilingus. Instead, once he gets his pleasure, he wants to fully dress while I remain stark naked.

Still, I do what Bob wants. I push Bob's now flaccid dick back into his underwear. I button and zip his fly. Lastly, I buckle Bob's belt. Then, I passively kneel there looking up at him awaiting his next command.

Bob goes and stops the camera. Then, he goes to the kitchen and fetches us fresh drinks. At his command, I join him on the couch.

I suggest, "Why don't you pose for me and I play photographer." Again, Bob declines. He wants to watch TV and fondle me.

An hour later, Bob decides it is time for bed. He has me collect and wash the dirty glasses. He even photographs me doing it. Then, we check that everything is locked up, and we turn off the lights. Bob leads me up to his bedroom.

Bob shuffles through the dresser and pulls out his pajamas. He heads for the bathroom across the hall. With a click, I hear the bathroom door lock.

I feel a bit annoyed. I have been naked all evening, yet Bob feels he needs to hide behind a locked door to change into his pajamas. Where is the equality in that? Still, I stand there and wait for Bob's return.

Bob returns minutes later wearing his red flannel pajamas. He stands in the doorway scanning me with his eyes for an awkward minute. Then, he quickly approaches me and gives me an awkward kiss on the lips. The unexpected affection catches me unprepared. I react anxiously.

Bob also seems nervous as if he feels unsure how to act. Neither of us seems to clearly know what we want or where this is going. I feel exposed and vulnerable, yet part of me fantasizes about being swept off my feet like the damsel in a romance novel.

Bob's uncomfortable motions hardly match the dreamy heroes of Harlequin pulp fiction. Still, I am standing naked in Bob's bedroom. Part of me really wants something to happen even if this does not match my starry-eyed dreams.

I wrap my arms around Bob and return his inelegant affection. Then, I fall backwards onto Bob's bed. I pull Bob down on top of me.

I lay petrified waiting for whatever comes next. I feel my nipples rub against Bob's soft flannel pajama top. I spread my legs, so the flannel covered bulge in his pants gently rubs against my pussy. I wrap my legs around his thighs and pull our hips together.

Bob acts a bit stunned. He seems unsure of himself. I guess he is as sexually inexperienced as I am. The thought surprises me. After finding the pictures of Bob and my sister naked, I assumed they had performed sexual intercourse. I find the idea they are both virgins astonishing.

The understanding that I am as experienced as Bob and Casey lights a fire in my soul. I become the aggressor. I passionately kiss Bob's mouth. My hands move to Bob's waist. I fish his dick from his pajama bottoms and his underwear. It feels hard and stout in my hands. I want to feel it inside me.

Common sense momentarily cuts through my lust. I ask, "Do you have a condom? I am not on the pill. I do not want to get pregnant."

The comment wakes Bob from his stupor. He reaches out and opens the drawer on the bedside table. His hand returns with a small foil package. He places it in my hand.

I sigh with relief. If Bob did not have protection, I am unsure if I could have stopped myself. My horny passion feels out of control. Now, I will not need to take the risk.

The condom package rips open. I sheeve Bob's sword. I align his cock with my pussy. A slap on Bob's ass motivates him to push forward. He timidly slips into my tunnel of love.

I feel the tip of Bob's cock push against me. He thrust harder. I feel a sharp pain and gasps. Unrestricted, Bob protrudes deeper. I feel him within me. It feels strange, not unpleasant but weird.

Bob slides his dick outward before plunging in deeper. I feel him retreat and plunge. His dick rubs against my tender moist lining. The heat builds as Bob repeats his action.

I return to submissive mode now that Bob takes over control. Again, I am his to use. His cock explores my inner most sanctum. My nerves feel his every probe. Every sensation seems to translate through my entire soul.

Bob's body convulses. I feel the eruption as he fills the condom with his seed. My body shutters in sympathetic explosions. The experience seems to last forever.

Slowly, our passion ebbs. I feel Bob's spear slacken. It goes limp while still encased in my soul. I feel frozen in time.

Bob retreats. He returns later with a warm moist towel. He uses it to clean my crotch and the bedspread.

I see a flash. I realize Bob takes my picture as I recline on the bedspread. I glance up at the camera and allow Bob to do as he pleases.

Bob pulls back the covers until my body blocks the path. He lifts my body to clear access. Then, he places me along the bed with my head on the pillow. He takes several more pictures of me before he joins me in the bed.

Bob takes a few pictures of us together before placing his phone on the charger. He turns off the bedside lamp. He pulls up the covers and snuggles up to me. His arms embrace me. His hands cup my tits. I feel his soft flannel pajamas brush against my bare skin. Bob claims me as his property as he drifts off to sleep.

I reach out to touch Bob's dick. Through the flannel of his pajama bottoms and underwear, I feel it harden. Still, I feel slighted that it remains covered while I am fully exposed. I actually enjoy my exposure. I just want to see Bob naked too. I want him to pose for me like I do for him.

I ponder the evenings events. Part of me enjoys belonging to Bob. Obeying him makes me horny. The fact Bob fucked me and not Casey thrills me. In my mind, it gives me a power over both of them. That excites me.

Still, I worry about how fast everything happens. Why does part of me relish sexually submitting to Bob? Is it just Bob, or do I want to submit to any man? Am I a slut? What will happen if people find out? Where will this lead?

I fall asleep considering my life. It leads to weird dreams where I kneel naked before friends and strangers. I obey their commands, and they use me as they wish. I happily submit to their every desire. I submissively act to please them. I eagerly belong to others.