"Rule number ten," I said, but she was already gone and couldn't hear me. "Zip up the back of your dress," I said, knowing I was talking to the door.I... was ten minutes to four, and I hadn't eaten anything since breakfast. I showered quickly, dug swimming trunks out of my bag, and looked in the refrigerator for something to eat.Two minutes later, I was sitting under the umbrella, having cheese, crackers, and a beer.I had a paperback in my lap, but preferred to survey the sunbathers sitting. He started toride me for all he was worth. I started to buck under him purposelyholding back my load, so that I could enjoy this for a while longer. Istarted to stroke his cock, which was drooling pre-cum again (or was itpost-cum I don't know). He was riding me like a wild bronco and slappinghis thighs at the same time. I was so close. I moaned and groaned; myeyes tightly closed. I couldn't hold on much longer. And then I heard himgasp for air, which startled me. I thought he was in. "So, what did you have in mind?" The soft purr of my voice matched his quiet tones. He explained, briefly, then cut the legs out of the pantyhose with scissors. At his request, no, at his command--my agreement deprived me of the right to refuse him--I knelt, knees spread and feet touching behind me. Improvising due to the lack of headboard on a futon, he tied my feet securely together with one leg, then instructed me to lean back and grab my ankles with my hands. The second leg lashed my hands. Each long thrust of his oversized pole makes a meaty wet smacking sound, and you feel as if your abused pussy lips and swollen clitoris are being spanked with wet leather. After an eternity he cries “YEA you fucker...you filty slut”, and you feel him throb out an orgasm inside your well-used vagina. His seed drips like hot wax across your thighs as he pulls out and triumphantly cries “next”. How many more will follow?I am number five, and if it were not for the previous assholes over.