I had been dating Sarah for almost a year after meeting her at a church retreat. At that time, Sarah was still a senior in college, and I was a couple of years older with a place of my own and a full-time job. She was a petite, shy little thing with shoulder-length blonde hair and small but perky breasts. She had a sheltered upbringing, coming from a close-knit family who were as wholesome as an eighties sitcom. Her big sister was her best friend, with her mother coming in close behind.

We took things slow as she never had a serious boyfriend before. It didn't help that she was insecure about her body. After a couple of months, we finally had sex, but it always had to be with the lights off and under the covers. I could never get her to climax, even when I went down on her. It frustrated me as female orgasms were my biggest turn-on. I still held onto hope as she did confess that she could cum when masturbating in the tub.

Now with Sarah out of college and working an entry-level job, she moved into a cheap one-bedroom apartment. I had offered for her to stay with me, but she insisted that she wanted privacy and some freedom in her new adult life. That's where the nightmare started.

Sarah had struck up an acquaintance with an old man who lived across the hallway. They met in the laundry room and would exchange long conversations that she would tell me about on our dates. I didn't like the situation at all. He was not only old, probably in his mid-to-late fifties, but chubby and slovenly. He never looked clean-shaven and had the withered face of a smoker. According to Sarah, he was her guardian angel since he would walk her to her car at night to make sure she was safe. I figured he had nothing better else to do. He didn't have a job but collected disability benefits because of a 'bad knee.' The only family he mentioned was an estranged daughter who Sarah reminded him of.

I reasoned that Sarah was still young and naive to understand this type of relationship can be dangerous or at least lead to a misunderstanding. What was surprising was how she acted around him. Often when I picked her up on dates, he would just so happen to be leaving his apartment. I would stand there awkwardly while Sarah excitedly chatted with him. He would work in raunchy jokes, and she'd giggle and smile at me without any sort of modesty. I felt crazy not knowing whether she was flirting with him or just being nice, but in either case, I knew the old man was enjoying getting the attention of a young attractive girl. I didn't confront her about my boiling jealousy because I didn't want to seem petty or weak, and admittingly I was afraid of planting the idea that he was lusting after her, as who knows what racy thoughts might spring in her maybe-not-so-innocent mind.

One night I went over to her apartment for some Netflix and chill, but when Sarah opened the door, I saw the old man sitting on her couch. She explained it was his birthday and didn't want him to be alone. He certainly wasn't dressed for the occasion, wearing just gray sweatpants and a plain shirt with what appeared to be a pasta stain on it. If he wanted to hide his pot belly, he chose the wrong attire.

But what made my skin crawl was that she sat right next to him, forcing me to roll over her computer chair for a place to sit. The old man was gulping down a six-pack of cheap beer. Sarah didn't like the taste of alcohol, and I had no interest in drinking watered-down piss from a can, not that he offered me any. So Sarah and I watched him finish one beer after another while he recounted a story of how he tried to proposition a young cocktail waitress for sex at a casino before he got kicked out. She hung onto every word while I rolled my eyes and glanced at her to study her body language. She was wearing a short black skirt with a pink spaghetti-strap top. She had her legs resting on the couch cushion, with her index finger on her lower lip and her other hand running up and down her thigh ever so slightly.

"So..." the old man said to Sarah with a wry smile. "Are you wearing them?"

Sarah looked immediately embarrassed. She turned to me and then back at him with her eyes wide. She let out a nervous laugh.

"I think you're a little drunk," she teased.

"But it's my birthday gift."

"Yeah, but I was kinda hoping you would forget."

It was clear that they had some sort of inside joke that I was not a part of, and it made me feel so invisible. With all of the courage I could muster, I asked Sarah what they were talking about.

"We were folding clothes in the laundry room today, and he took a liking to one of my panties. He wouldn't stop begging me to wear them tonight for his birthday. I told him I would think about it. It was just a joke."

I didn't have to ask her which ones. She owned only one sexy pair: green lace panties she bought as a Valentine's Day gift.

The old man tapped her knee. "You still haven't answered my question, are you wearing them?"

Sarah let out a sigh. "I can't believe you're making me do this." Her face was beet red, and so was mine.

After a moment's pause, Sarah stood up from the couch with her back turned to him and pulled up her black skirt to reveal her green lace panties. They were hugging her ass. With his fat face gawking at her soft tush, she stood on her toes to lift and clench her cheeks. I sat there frozen in disbelief. A bolt of crippling jealousy radiated throughout my body. She looked over her shoulder to see the old man's expression. I couldn't tell whether she was mortified or turned on: both looked the same on the face of an innocent girl. She twirled around to show off the front, the contours of her pussy clearly in his sight, and then, mercifully, she let her skirt drape back down to her thighs and retreated on the couch.

"You've had your fun, now let's change the subject," Sarah whined.

But that wouldn't be so easy. The old man was sporting a huge erection inside his sweatpants. I wasn't even quite sure if he had underwear on, as his dick was raised at full staff.

Silence washed over the room. Sarah's eyes were fixated on his bulge. After taking it all in, she then cleared her throat and stared at the floor.

The old man hunched over and broke the ice. "I'm getting a little low on beer." He looked at me. "How about you get me another six-pack from the gas station down the street?"

That might have been the first thing he said to me all night.

"Why not get it yourself?" I shot back, my fist clenching at my side.

"I'm in no condition to drive," he huffed. "And I've had too many DUIs in my lifetime to risk another."

Sarah agreed with the old man. My heart sank.

I wanted to refuse, but I was afraid if I expressed my feelings, I would break down crying. I don't handle stressful situations well, and I felt the need to be in some sort of control.

I walked outside and got into my car, not knowing how the rest of the night was going to turn out.

As I stood in line at the gas station with a six-pack in hand, I couldn't stop worrying about what could be going on back in her apartment. With me gone, I feared the old man becoming more emboldened and taking things way too far with my helpless girlfriend. And worse, how Sarah might respond to it. I kept reminding myself of how unlikely such a sexual pair they would be, her a pretty college graduate and him a poor ugly bastard with nothing else going on in his life, not to mention she would be putting our relationship at risk. But paranoia still swelled in my head.

It all came back to her green lace panties. When she slipped them on today, she must have been thinking about the old man. Did that make her wet? And he didn't even ask her to lift her skirt. She did it on her own when a simple yes or no to his question may have sufficed. As much as I despised the dirty pervert, I couldn't blame him for getting rock hard with her cute ass so close to his face he could have spit on it. My sweet girlfriend deposited that image right into his spank bank, and he was free to hold onto it as long as he could. I just had to hope his massive erection wouldn't creep its way into her masturbatory fantasies. But would I ever know if it did? Only Sarah had the key to her darkest desires. Asking her upfront would prove to be a no-win situation: either she would deny it, which meant she could be lying, or admit it and devastate me. I dreaded this nagging mystery would be a stone in my shoe for the rest of my life, regardless if we broke up.

I got back to the apartment building and stood outside her door. My heartbeat was like a hummingbird's. I didn't know what was on the other side. I couldn't hear anything, but that only piqued my curiosity more. I gripped the knob and slowly twisted it, hoping Sarah didn't lock it after I left. The door gave way, and I peeked my head inside. What I saw sent shivers down my spine.

The old man was seated with his sweatpants around his ankles, stroking his fat cock. His heavy balls and matted pubic hair formed a bird's nest around his chubby thighs. He was leering at my petite girlfriend, who had her back leaning against the armrest on the other side of the couch, her full body facing him. All of Sarah's clothing had miraculously been removed, except for her green lace panties, which she had her hand stuffed into. I almost gasped, but I didn't want to interrupt the scene, no matter how horrific it was unfolding. This was my opportunity to see who my girlfriend truly was: a reluctant pawn in the old man's sick game or the roleplaying slut of her filthy fantasy.

Her eyes pointed at his lap, her mouth agape, bewildered by the old man's swollen sausage and the sagging skin on his scrotum that stretched and bounced as he tugged. She stared at his Frankenstein cock as if it was trying to leap up and attack her. Her hand inside her panties seemed to have a mind of its own, furiously rubbing her pussy while the rest of her delicate body was paralyzed in fear and disgust. A mix of raw emotions was swirling in my own body: humiliation, excitement, shame, arousal.

I couldn't tell what part of my girlfriend the old man was ogling at, but if I had to guess, it would be her breasts. They were fully exposed and looked so chaste and vulnerable on her small frame. She was like a doll that had just come out of the box. This was the ultimate prize for the dirty old pervert. He was a hungry wolf stalking through the woods, and Little Red Riding Hood was serving herself to him on a silver platter. And I was letting it all happen.

My throbbing dick was pressing against my pants. I tried to reposition it, but the damn six-pack dangling from my hand loudly clanged against the door.

My half-naked girlfriend looked over at me and yelped. She crossed her arms over her chest and raised her knees to cover her crotch. The old man didn't flinch at all. For all I knew, he saw me the whole time. With Sarah's body now shielded, he stopped touching himself, letting his hard cock stand proudly on its own.

Sarah plopped her face against the back of the couch.

"I was just trying to be nice," she cried into the cushion.

The old man chuckled, "That's true. She's been a real sweetheart to me. Best birthday I've had since I turned the big five-O. And I ended that night in jail. Indecent exposure is a victimless crime, I say."

If I could pause time, I might have been able to pick up the pieces of my shattered ego and plan my next move. But my body at the moment was just an empty vessel being carried downstream in a river of grief and shame to do anything. I had caught my idling girlfriend debasing herself to a circus freak, a true elephant man, and he was gloating about it.

He gestured to me to bring over his new six-pack. I mindlessly walked over to him, holding the cold cans of beer at my waist to hide my stiff dick from embarrassment. I plucked one out and held it to him.

"Do you mind opening it for me? My hands are a little sweaty," he said, flashing his sticky paws.

My hands trembling, I cracked open a fresh can.

Cowered in the corner of the couch, my girlfriend brushed her blonde hair to the side to catch a glimpse of me handing the beer to the ugly old man, with his raging cock and full ballsack mocking me. He took a sip and then rested the heavy can precariously on the armrest next to him. "Have a seat. I want to tell you something about your girlfriend that I think you'll appreciate."

I slunk down on the computer chair.

"You got yourself an angel, kiddo," he said, his eyes shifting toward her. "She's got everything but the wings. Her daddy must have raised her right."

His mind seemed to trail off as if in a daydream.

He broke out of it and said, "Sweetheart, tell your boyfriend what you said to me after he left."

Sarah raised her head from the cushion with her knees pressed close to her chin.

"I told him that..." Sarah paused and gulped. "His hard-on was a lot bigger than yours ever gets, and I didn't want you to feel insecure, so I asked him to get rid of it. I didn't expect him to just whip it out in front of me."

With my voice cracking, I asked why she had stripped off her clothes, hoping she would say the old man forced her to. She took a beat to think about it. A guilty smirk wiped across her face, and she shrugged.

That sent a dagger straight through my heart. But even in her cruelty, her charm was intoxicating.

The old man chimed in, "Birthday wishes do come true, I guess. Do you know how many times I beat off her a day? Thank God for Instagram."

"I don't do Instagram," Sarah muttered in puzzlement.

"No, but your sister does." The old man curled his fingers around his cock and began circling his thumb against his bulbous mushroom cap. "You know which photo is my favorite? One of you and your sis on the beach, with you two standing next to each other in your bathing suits. Almost ruined my phone, I've cum on it so much."

That must have been buried deep in her sister's timeline, as I had no memory of her taking a family vacation on the coast.

My girlfriend gazed at the old man in awe. His comment seemed to trigger something inside of her. Perhaps it was the ultimate form of flattery, however twisted. Or the epiphany that what turned her on so much wasn't the attention or my jealousy but the sheer sexual depravity of men, which plunged deeper than what she could have ever imagined.

Sarah opened her knees away from her chest, exposing her breasts and her green lace panties riding up her pussy.

I spotted a giant wave forming on the horizon, and the tide was taking me in.

Sarah tilted her head toward me in distress, pleading like a little puppy having to choose between her owner and a stranger waving a bone. I could only return a desperate look of sadness and worry.

My once-shy girlfriend scooted on her butt to inch closer to the old man. She lay flat on the couch, her blonde hair spread out behind her head, her perky breasts pointed upward. She had somehow made herself look even more vulnerable in front of the drooling old pervert, like she was a new patient on a cold table waiting for the doctor to examine her.

She extended her legs and rested her porcelain feet on his rough skin thighs, right in front of his thick cock. Her sparkling toenails were painted in the color of Dorothy's ruby slippers. The dainty feet of my young girlfriend were quite the measuring stick for the old man's prized hog. He suddenly squeezed his cock toward his belly, like he was trying to prevent his fishing rod from flying out of his hand. His cock pulsated, and drops of pre-cum oozed from the tip. Sarah was tickled by the surprise, letting out a cute hiccup as she watched his squirted baby oil dribble down his hairy knuckles next to her wiggling toes.

Sarah reached inside her panties and inserted her fingers deep into her pussy, and slowly stroked. Her breathing became shallow and rapid. This got the ugly bastard revved up. He started jerking himself silly and grunting unintelligible words to her. She had the old man squirming in her spider's web. He had become the prey.

Their eyes were now locked in a game of chicken, and the deviant pervert looked like he was about to lose. I sat there, tied up in a form of autoerotic asphyxiation, on the verge of blacking out and creaming my pants.

Losing patience, the old man lifted her left foot and started licking between her little piggy toes and stuffing them in his mouth. My girlfriend exhaled a huge moan toward the ceiling, her back arching upward. Her face was in agony. With her free hand, she cupped her right breast and pinched her erect nipple. The old man released her shaking foot. Her legs flailed about, knocking the beer can from the armrest, which splattered the hardwood floor with foam and bubbles.

After catching her breath, she removed her hand from her panties and held up her wet sticky fingers over her face in admiration. For the first time, after months of trying, I had finally seen my darling girlfriend achieve orgasm, and it had all of the fireworks of a Fourth of July celebration. But it came from the creepy old man sucking on her toes and beating his ugly monster cock.

The disgusting old man and I had more in common at that moment than I ever thought we would. Our erections could have cut diamonds and had each produced enough pre-cum to fill a shot glass. But at least his ugly fat cock was free out in the open. Mine was struggling inside my pants to escape. We were both at the mercy of this petite girl who was dangling her slutty innocence in front of our faces like a pair of dirty white cotton panties. And yet, out of the three of us that night, Sarah was the first to cum. Just a minute ago, my half-naked girlfriend was getting her toes licked by an ugly pervert more than twice her age while her sexually frustrated boyfriend watched them both masturbate to it, and somehow it was her in that surreal scene whose mind and body yelled in unison, "Fuck it, this is way too hot!" before her entire universe collapsed unto itself.

My girlfriend had two wet fingers lined with white milky spots to show for it. With her hand over her face, Sarah protruded her tongue out and wiped her fingers on it one by one, taking a moment in between each lick to savor the taste that seemed new and exciting to her.

Watching her, the old man stuck his tongue out and kept wetting his lips. My girlfriend noticed and pulled herself on her knees close to him. She guided her fingers to his old sagging face until his mouth quickly snatched them, causing her to moan in surprise. He sucked off the remnants of her sweet nectar in buffoonish delight. I was green with envy. The old man had gotten to taste the true essence of my girlfriend, the creamy center of a horny slut.

In haste, my girlfriend threw her lips against his and offered up her tongue as if her mouth was getting jealous of her fingers. The old man's tongue wildly thrashed about, painting her tongue, lips, cheeks, chin, and nose with his spit. With her tongue losing the wrestling match, she squeezed the old man's fat cheeks with her hands and devoured his tongue with her mouth, sucking on it until she had it tamed.

After she finally released it, the old man looked at me. "You better clean this mess up," pointing to the puddle of fizzled-out beer on the floor next to the couch, courtesy of the old man's careless attitude and my girlfriend's uncontrollable orgasm. And my wallet, for that matter.

My girlfriend darted her eyes and beckoned me to follow my master's orders. Her half-naked body was seductively spread against the side of the old man's fat torso. Princess Leia was with her Jabba the Hut. She turned back to the old man, pushed his face in her direction, and shoved her tongue down his throat as if the old man had been depriving her of oxygen during this brief interlude.

I stood up and navigated around the couch while my girlfriend and the old man traded moans and saliva. My eyes stayed on them as long as they could. When I found myself in the kitchen, I felt dizzy. It was disorientating being thrust back into the real world. I was doused with the cold fear of imagining what pain tomorrow would bring. It would be the worst hangover ever. How could things ever be the same when my darling girlfriend, the love of my life, had treated our relationship like a Kleenex for the filthy old man to blow his snotty load in? But I didn't want to lose her, nor even try to put the genie back in the bottle. My only option was to please both of them, lest I get stranded behind.

The paper towels hanging from her dispenser had only a few left. I heard Sarah howl in pleasure from the living room. Panicked, I started opening all of the cabinets until I finally found a roll under the sink next to the rest of the cleaning supplies. I grabbed the paper towels and rushed back.

The old man was suckling on my girlfriend's right breast. She was straddling his leg, grinding her green lace panties against his fat thigh. The old man moved his mouth to her left nipple but kept his hand behind to continue squeezing and pulling her other tit. She tilted her head down to watch him slobber on and grope her ever-so-precious breasts. Her tight little body was a whistling tea kettle, steaming hot and in desperate need of attention. It would be a crime if someone wasn't ravishing her, and if it had to be her dirty old neighbor, then so be it.

My girlfriend lifted herself a little, reached down, and pulled her panties to the side so her pussy lips could be firmly pressed against the old man's rough skin. She started gyrating faster and harder. The old man leaned back to watch her go. Her little bunny humps were so earnest and adorable. She stared at the old man's face with dazed eyes. Her heavy panting indicated the progress she was making. She was going to ride this mechanical pony until she had no quarters left.

"You like bouncing on Daddy's leg, huh?" the old man accused.

My girlfriend's head bobbed up and down with the movement of her lower body. It was unclear whether she was signaling yes or had just zoned out completely to focus on her task at hand.

The old man reached behind her head, gripped her Goldilocks hair, and pulled it down like a rope. Sarah gasped in excited torture. His voice deepened. "Is Daddy's cock too big for your tight pussy, so you're going to make a mess on my thigh instead?"

She responded in pleading moans. The old man released her hair.

"If you cum on me, you're going to have to lick it up like a good little girl. And then take a load of Daddy's cum in that pretty little mouth of yours."

After a few more hard thrusts, her body slammed on the brakes. She opened her mouth wide open, enough to get her tonsils checked, but no sound was coming out. Her shoulders rolled up to her neck, and her back convulsed in short spasms.

She finally let out a long, heavy sigh and slumped forward against the old man's body, soothing herself by licking his ear and biting on his droopy ear lobe. She then tilted the old man's head back, pursed her lips, and blew bubbles of spit out that coalesced into a string of drool that made its way down into the old man's mouth as if it were payment for the transaction.

My girlfriend swung her knee to the other side, leaned down, and lapped her tongue on the wet spot on the old man's leg, cleaning up the "accident" she made.

Her damsel's eyes made contact with the old man's cyclops. Sarah bit her lower lip, wondering whether she should formally introduce herself. She crawled over to his standing erection. With her face hovering an inch or two above it, she swirled her tongue along the tip of the old man's cock. A gush of pre-cum erupted. She flinched, thinking the old man was cumming. But when she realized it was a false alarm, my girlfriend quickly licked the old man's glazed shaft up and down, treating it like an ice cream cone that was melting.

The old man tilted his head back, closed his eyes, and moaned, "Oh fuck yeah, sweetie."

He looked back down at her, not letting this Kodak moment go to waste. The young, innocent girl across the hallway, whom he had no right to be with, was running her tongue around his old dirty cock. The old man noticed me rubbing myself through my pants. Annoyed, he pointed out the mess on the floor that I had yet to clean up.

I knelt, tore a bunch of paper towels, and started patting them down against the floor as fast as I could, peeking around the corner of the couch to see my girlfriend do her cleaning of sorts.

My girlfriend had never given head before. She was always much too shy, and even I would feel too embarrassed to ask her to. She might have never seen a blowjob before. And the way she haphazardly zigzagged her tongue on his cock seemed to only confirm that. But what she lacked in technique, she was made up in enthusiasm. She made out with his cock with the pent-up energy of a prom queen in the backseat of her date's car.

The old man grabbed her head with both hands and pushed her mouth down on his meaty pike. The old tutor was going to teach his young student a lesson. He jackhammered her head as she whimpered in despair. Her hand clutched his raggedy shirt.

"Breathe through your nose, sweetheart. That's how good little girls suck on Daddy's cock."

She seemed to take his advice to heart. Her whimpers turned into moans, and her grip on his shirt relaxed. The old man took his hands off her, but she continued deepthroating his cock in rhythmic thrusts.

The old man brushed her blonde hair over her Elvin ear in admiration of his protege. "Your girlfriend sucks a mean cock, kiddo," the old man bolstered.

My girlfriend lifted her head in euphoric exhaustion. Gobs of drool and pre-cum hung from her glistening chin. She turned to the old man and sweetly uttered, "Thank you."

With my job mostly done, I grabbed all of the soaked paper towels into a ball, picked up the beer can and stood up. The old man asked me to hand over the beer can, to which I obliged. He held it over his lap and poured out what was leftover onto his cock and hairy scrotum.

"I want you to suck those balls dry like a good little girl."

She lowered her head deep into his crotch. After struggling a bit with his unruly pubic hair, she latched onto his wrinkly sack and slurped away. "You like the taste of beer now, sweetheart?"

She shook her head. "I like cum better."

To her, that wasn't even dirty talk. She said it like she was choosing vanilla over chocolate. But it was the sexiest thing I ever heard her say by the length of a lightyear.

My girlfriend placed the old man's ugly cock back in her mouth, gliding it down her throat until it triggered her gag reflex. She re-adjusted a little and then started feverishly sucking.

The old man moaned and wailed sporadically. His whole body seemed to be in the throes of my girlfriend's mouth. He reached over to her ass and slid his hand under her green lace panties. His fingers crept toward her butthole.

Before he could get past a fingernail inside her, my girlfriend flung herself up and shrieked, slapping the old man's arm away. He had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

They both stared at each other. This time, the old man did not seem amused by my girlfriend's antics. "Get up and put your hands on the coffee table, missy," he growled.

My young girlfriend pouted and looked at the fat old man with doe eyes. Moments earlier, she was eagerly awaiting the ugly pervert to reward her hardworking mouth with his warm sticky cum, but all she was receiving now was his stern disapproval. Throughout the night, she had been edging him with her panties, breasts, orgasms, and salacious tongue, and when the old man was at his brink, she swiftly denied him in a rare act of modesty, choosing to protect her butthole from his wandering fingers rather than finish him off.

Sarah wiped her finger across her chin and playfully inserted her finger in her mouth to suck the drool and pre-cum it had collected. The old man grabbed her wrist. "I said, stand up and put your hands on the coffee table, now."

Her jaw hung low. She had no more spells to cast on the old man. She was now in his dungeon and at her master's mercy.

Her bare feet touched down on the hardwood floor. She leaned over and placed her hands on the table, assuming the position. The old man slowly lifted his fat ass off the couch. He took off his sweaty shirt that had armpit stains and tossed it aside. My girlfriend twisted her neck to look at his fat stomach and cavernous belly button.

"Eyes straight ahead, missy," the old man yelled.

Sarah snapped her head back. She locked her eyes on the TV in front of her, using its dark reflection to watch the monster lurking behind her. He placed his hands on her hips and pulled down her green lace panties, which briefly clung to her wet pussy before peeling off. He let the panties drop to her ankles.

"Lift them to me with your leg," he ordered.

She let one foot slip out of her panties and raised her hind leg, carrying the panties up with it. The old man grabbed the panties dangling from her foot and pressed them against his face, inhaling her scent. He leaned over to grab another beer from the table, leaving the panties behind in exchange. He cracked open the can, took a few deep gulps, wiped his wet mouth, and looked down at her ass like a painter in front of a fresh white canvas.

The anticipation was killing my girlfriend.

He held the can over her and drizzled beer on her buttocks. She gasped at the cold liquid splashing her asshole and pussy. The deviant pervert then cranked his hand back and gave her a wicked slap on her wet buttcheek. Her neck lunged out as she bellowed out a harrowing moan. The twisted old man spanked her again, this time grabbing onto her ass with his meaty hooks and squeezing it like he was trying to tear off flesh.

"You listen here, girl. You don't get to cum unless I tell you so. Not until you learn some manners." He let go of her buttcheek and gave it a quick sideswipe. "You hear me?"

"Yes, Daddy!" she cried out.

He slapped her other cheek. "And when I'm about to cum, I don't want you to move a fucking inch."

"I'm sorry, Daddy!"

The old man continued spanking her. The sounds of the old man's thunderous slaps and my girlfriend's wailing moans were bouncing off the walls and ringing in my ears.

"I'll be a good little girl, I promise," she pleaded with tears welling up in her eyes.

Her little ass was getting red. My girlfriend was getting punished for something that would have been the greatest thing to ever happen to me. My heartstrings were getting pulled so far that they finally snapped.

In defiance, I yelled, "Hey, I think that's enough."

The old man stopped and looked at me in surprise. "Are you still fucking here?" he asked rhetorically. He paused to think. "Baby girl, your boy wants me to stop. What say you?"

My girlfriend collected herself. Her eyes acknowledged my presence. "Just be quiet, okay? You're embarrassing me," she said with annoyance.

I thought I was making a hero's triumphant return, her white knight, but she welcomed me like I was her little brother crashing her slumber party. I wanted to tear open the fabric of space and time and slip into nothingness.

The old man gave a gleeful smirk, which then morphed into a frown. "Get down on all fours."

I lowered myself to the floor as he commanded. The old man grabbed the green lace panties from the table and approached me. He stuffed the damp panties in my mouth.

"I don't want to hear another peep from you. If those panties come out, my cock will go in next." The old man then bent over and rested the half-full beer can on my back. "And don't fuckin' move." He turned away. "Did I tell you to turn your head, missy?" he barked over to my snooping girlfriend.

"No, Daddy. I was being a naughty little girl."

She rested her forearms on the table, inviting more punishment. But the old man didn't take the bait. He instead grabbed his cock and started rubbing it against her ass.

"Baby girl, remember when we were doing laundry, and you crawled into the dryer and stayed there for the longest time looking for that 'missing sock'? You were wearing those pink running shorts, and your cute little ass was just sticking out."

"I...I don't remember," she answered, feigning ignorance.

The old man positioned his cock against her pussy, and slowly pushed it inside her, with each advancing inch forcing my girlfriend to moan in a higher octave. Her eyes bulged in disbelief.

"Fuck, you're as tight as a snare drum," the old man admired. Before he could let my girlfriend catch her breath, he rocked his fat body in motion. He grabbed her hips and let her pussy jerk off his cock in its firm grip. "Is this what you wanted when you were in the dryer?"

My girlfriend moaned. Her pussy was still negotiating with his demanding cock. She bit her arm to keep from screaming. The old man gave harder thrusts. Eventually, her wet pussy gave in, letting his cock slide in and out of her. Unencumbered, he was now fucking her like a rag doll. Her petite ass didn't have the strength to absorb his pounding, so her whole body shook with each seismic slam of his cock. All the while, I had to remain perfectly still. I would have gladly humped the couch cushion if I could. Sex in its rawest form was on display in front of me. My sweet girlfriend was getting fucked doggy-style by her dirty old neighbor. The only thing that could have led up to this was bestial lust.

"Answer me, you little tease," the old man demanded. "Did you want me to fuck you right then and there in the laundry room?"

"Yes!" my girlfriend shouted. "I always wanted it. It's all I think about."

"How much do you love my fat cock?"

"More than you love my pretty little pussy," she served back to him.

Her bombshell exchange with the old man almost made me swallow her dirty panties. She had doused me with gasoline all night, and now she let loose the flamethrower. From day one, I had lost her to the ugly pervert. My sanity was unraveling.

"Daddy...can I cum now?" my girlfriend whimpered.

"Not yet, sweetheart. We're just getting started."

"But I can't help it if you're fucking me like this," she whined.

My arms were shaking. My girlfriend never even bothered to fake orgasms with my pitiful dick inside her, and here she was announcing to the heavens that she didn't have the willpower to not cream all over the old man's cock.

"I'm sorry, Daddy, I have to cum."

"You fuckin' naughty little girl!"

"I know! I know!"

Sarah let out a feral scream. Everybody on her apartment floor must have heard her. She could barely lift her head as her body gave way to a seizure. The old man continued pummeling her while she regained some composure.

"Please, Daddy, slow down. I'm so sensitive right now."

"I ain't slowing until I fill this pussy with cum."

"No, please, don't. I'm not on the pill," she pleaded in between moans.

"You should have thought of that before you came all over my cock like a greedy little slut."

"I'm serious. I'll do anything you want. I'll let you finger my ass. I promise."

This should have been the moment that I came to her rescue when my girlfriend truly needed it. But she had signed off on my gag order. All I could do was envision what our future might hold: her nine months pregnant on her knees, wearing only a bib that says "Daddy's little girl," while the old man fed her mouth with his cock and nutritious cum, and me in the background trying to assemble the crib.

But the old man had a change of heart. "I'll tell you what. For tonight I'll trade you a creampie for a rimjob."

My girlfriend's face scrunched in confusion.

The old man grew impatient. "What do you say, baby girl?"

"I don't know what a rimjob is," she confessed.

The old man cackled. "I want you to treat my asshole like you did to my cock."

My girlfriend remained silent for a moment to process the request. "But that's so filthy. You're such a pervert, I can't stand it."

"Say it, say you'll lick my asshole."

My girlfriend surrendered. "Yes, I'll lick your asshole like a good little girl."

When those words left her mouth, her mind seemed to break. She went cross-eyed with her tongue sticking out, panting like a dog.

"Oh, my god. I'm going to cum again," she said in amazement.

The old man started wildly spanking her ass, which only egged her orgasm further along. My girlfriend hollered before her body became lifeless.

The old man backed away, exhausted from pounding my girlfriend's pussy. He waddled his way over to me. With his cock hanging over my head, he reached down and picked up the beer can off my back. He took a swig and let out a deep sigh of relief. The old man shouted, "What are you waiting for, sweetheart?"

My girlfriend rolled her body off the coffee table and crawled over to the old man. Now behind him, Sarah propped herself on her knees and placed her hands on his ass. Without much hesitation, she spread his chubby cheeks wide and spearheaded her tongue inside.

It was quite the view from where I was. Looking up, I was right underneath the old man's unsightly taint, between his sagging scrotum and my girlfriend's face firmly planted in the bottom of his ass. Her zealous tongue circled and massaged his anus. She gave out small cute whimpers of pleasure. Sarah lowered her head and stuck his hairy balls in her mouth as a palette cleanser, and then returned to his ass for seconds.

The old man's knees buckled. He gave out a guttural moan, like his soul was leaving his body.

"Ok, I think that's enough, baby girl. Get over here before I end up cumming all over your boyfriend's back."

"Does Daddy want me to suck his cock?"

"No, just sit on top of him and look at me."

The old man's energy seemed drained.

My girlfriend flung her leg over my back and straddled me. It was the first time she touched me all night, but it was without an ounce of intimacy. I was just furniture at that point.

The old man began jerking himself off. "My little girl is a slut, isn't she?"

"A good little slut," she corrected him. "Thank you for letting me lick your asshole, Daddy. And for making me cum so hard, even though you told me not to."

"Does your boyfriend make you cum?" the old man muttered.

My girlfriend giggled, pressing her palms against my upper back in amusement. "Oh no, Daddy, don't be silly."

Sarah then grabbed my hair tight with both hands and pulled my head facing up, straining my neck.

She begged, "Please, Daddy, show my boyfriend I'm your little cumslut. It's what we deserve for being your obedient slaves tonight. We want your cum so bad."

She tugged on my hair. "Don't we?"

With her green lace panties in my mouth, I stared at his ugly fat cock and nodded my head.

And with that, the old man's cock exploded, shooting ropes of cum that whipped against my girlfriend's breasts as she gasped in delight. She rubbed his spunk all over her tits and stuck out her tongue in earnest to catch any more cum shot her way. But his last pumps came up short, landing on her hands and my hair instead. My dick threw in the towel and jizzed all over inside my pants.

My cum-covered girlfriend licked her hands and fingers as she stared into the old man's heavy eyes. After a night full of drinking beer and pleasuring my girlfriend with his fat cock, the ugly pervert had finally consummated the relationship. She was now his little cumslut, and I was her pathetic little cuck.

The old man stepped back and then let his chubby body crash on the couch. He closed his eyes, and before my girlfriend could finish swallowing every last drop she could find, he was snoring. My girlfriend got off me and walked toward the bedroom without a care in the world. Seeing her cute little ass strut down the hallway with the confidence of a runway model tightened the knot in my stomach even more.

I followed her into the bedroom, where she was dressing herself. My hope that I could lay next to her naked body in bed was dashed. She slipped into her cotton penguin-printed pajama bottoms and an ancient Disney sweatshirt that was rough to the touch. I ducked into the bathroom to avoid the embarrassment of her seeing my cum-drenched boxers as I changed into my sleepwear. Upon returning, I found the bedroom lights switched off and Sarah cozily nestled under the covers on her side of the bed, with her cherished childhood stuffed raccoon tucked under her arm. I discreetly placed my boxers in her hamper and slipped into bed beside her. She took hold of my arm and drew it over her chest while turning away from me, positioning herself comfortably as the little spoon.

Sarah planted a kiss on her stuffed animal. "Night night, Mr. Racoon."

She then tilted her head toward me. "Goodnight, my love."

I gave her a smooch on the cheek, and squeezed her tight. She rested her head on the pillow, gave a big sigh, and closed her eyes.

Sarah had magically transformed back into the gentle, innocent girl I adored deeply. Was this still part of the game, I wondered. Or was I guilty the whole time of putting her in a box? Perhaps her wholesome heart and depraved sexuality formed an alchemy that allowed her to embody it all: sugar, spice, and everything nice.

My sweet girlfriend, who was in my arms peacefully drifting off into dreamland, was capable of the most perverted acts imaginable, but only for the pleasure of the disgusting old bastard, whom I detested. Reconciling this gave my erection a second life. But I was in no position to do anything about it, not with me serving as the big spoon. Once again, I was trapped. And with the old man loudly snoring in the other room, I feared I would remain in this prison for a very long time.