The Prude Librarian

Daddy takes what is his

2012-01-29T11:35:00.000-08:00

I am at my most calm when Daddy spoons me. There is no more day, no more outside, no more world outside of the arms within which I sleep. Sometimes he will grab me by the hair, rouse me to his cock and I will suck on him, lazily, half asleep, fully aroused. Sometimes he will pull me up and I will ride him, rubbing my eyes with a yawn, rocking my hips in a languid blooming to wakefulness. He will shift upward, thrusting into me, slowly bucking until he cums, and I am filled again for the night, Daddy's cum dripping out of my cunt and spilling down the joint of my leg and ass.
But at the moment, I am simply cocooned, losing the battle to sleep. I push back against him, his body warming and protecting mine. His lips find the top of my ear and I gasp without consciousness.
When he pushes his cock against me, I nestle back against him, all still in that pleasant dreaming state, all by instinct alone. He pushes a little harder and I simply curl harder. In my sleep, my cunt starts to dampen. Nothing turns me on like Daddy's cock.
As his hands move over me, I slowly rouse. My hands slide over the backs of his and squeeze, letting him know his babygirl is awake and wanting. He pushes harder against me, his cock slipping between my legs to just touch the lips of my cunt. I squeeze, now awake of the void where his cock should be.
But he knows I want him inside of me. He knows that I will beg and plead and whimper and bargain just to feel him inside me once, just for him to slip into my wet cunt and let me feel filled, owned, completed. He knows it is the only way I will be able to sleep again, is for him to pierce the anxious desire that I always have when I feel daddy hard. Knowing that I have been a good girl and made him come brings such a deep calm, that my soaking cunt, whether I have come or not, ceases to bother me.
I spread my legs slightly for him and his hand comes down on my thigh, pressing them back together, stroking the soft skin of my leg. His hand slowly moves back, and I feel him just barely spreading my ass.
I squirm, pulling forward. As much as Daddy has left me dripping with his cum and my own, this is still quite virgin territory. His hands tighten on my body and he pulls me back. Without a word he continues to spread my ass.
I freeze, not sure what else to do. My hands tighten on his arms and I hold him closer, wanting his cock and his comfort.
His lips find my ear and I hear his breath, which calms me. I feel the head of his cock pressing softly against my ass. I catch my breath, hold it tightly inside me, and I feel him begin to press inside me.
I whimper, his hands tightening on me. I am terrified. My heart pounds, and I know he can feel it. His breath quickens, becoming heavy. He holds his cock still, the pressure still there to slide in. I tremble, and his whispers tell me I'm a good girl.
He does not move but I feel the head slide in. My voice cracks and I almost pull away. But he is not taking anything which does not belong to him.
"I'm not moving, baby. You're relaxing me in."
I nod, his breath coaxing me along. The pressure is there but he does not move. I tighten around the head of his cock before I relax and feel more of his cock slide in. I tremble again and he kisses the back of my neck.
I relax more, and feel more of his cock inside me. He is not moving - my body is simply welcoming him inside me. I feel him jerk further and I yelp in the tiniest of voices.
"That time I moved." I smile, relaxing more as I feel more of him enter me. "How does it feel, baby?"
I pause, afraid to tell him the truth. Afraid of what will happen. "It feels good, Daddy."
"Do you want me to stop?"
"No, Daddy." I take a breath and push back against him. He waits, does not move, lets my ass adjust to being filled by Daddy for the first time.
And then he pulls out. I gasp, squirming away, not ready to feel this either. I tremble, curling up on the bed, adjusting to the feeling that I no longer have holes which are not his.
He grabs my hair and pushes my face into the bed. My shoulders shift and I flip onto my stomach. He pushes my legs open and kneels in between them. I feel his fingers, wet and coated with lube, push into my ass deeply. I cry out. I'm not ready. I don't want it yet. I am afraid.
His fingers are gone, out as quickly as they were in, and they are replaced almost immediately with his cock. I cry out and I hear him groan as his cock works into my ass.
I am scared, opening my legs, propping my ass up. Even if I am afraid to have Daddy fuck my ass, the only comfort I can find right now is knowing that I am serving, am pleasing him. His moans keep me breathing.
He begins to pump his cock inside me, sliding in deeper with each thrust. I whimper, tightening my ass and trying to remember to relax.
"Please, Daddy." I beg, but I'm not sure for what. His hands come down on either side of my shoulders and my hands go to each of his. His fingers move over mine and he squeezes my hand. I am giving this final cherry to Daddy. It is my gift to him.
Every time I feel his fingers squeeze, or his body sliding against mine, I grow wetter. He is fucking me slightly deeper and I try not to wince. I arch up and he pushes my hips down, taking his hand down to push my legs closed.
I want Daddy to own me. I want him to own all of me. My ass is his and I am owned. My mouth, my cunt, my eyes, my tits, my legs, my ass, my whimpers, my moans, my fantasies, my heart.
I am growing accustomed. I relax a little more and he pushes deeper. His moaning is louder, and his fingers get tighter over mine. Hearing him, I begin to moan as well. I want more. I want his cum to drip from my ass. I want his cock to stretch me and fit perfectly inside me.
"Please Daddy." I whimper.
"Yes, Baby?" His voice is strained. I feel his balls coming down over and over, swollen with cum. He moves faster.
"Please fuck me, Daddy."
He groans louder, fucking me harder. I want to be filled.
He cums, his cock pushing deeply inside me and I cry out. I squeeze his hands, feeling him stretching my ass to the point of pain. My hurt is his as well. He pumps stream after stream of cum into my ass.
I will drip all night long.

An immense encyclopedia of accessible dreams.

2012-01-09T06:25:00.000-08:00

It's no surprise that when I go back to California, one of my first and most guttural urges is to drive. My palms sweat at first, especially the first time I press down on the gas petal. I feel almost predictable, which is always unpleasant.
My parents live near some of the most beautiful foothills of California, and it's always a treat to steal the car. As a teenager, wheeling off with a CD in was the first taste of freedom that felt perfect. I had done all the pre-requisite things as a 16 year old - fucking, drinking, vomiting, smoking, sucking, and taking the pill that was handed to me by a trusted boyfriend. But none of those felt so precisely free.
It usually takes me a few days to get my bearings on the road. It takes a few days before my hands relax for the 10 and 2, before I lean an elbow on the open window, before I turn the volume up as high as I can and sing loudly, windows cracked and voice splaying into the ether.
And then the switches all turn. I coast along twisting roads, feeling the car cling to the lip of the asphalt. I push the gas petal down and watch the needle climb steadily from 50 to 60 to 70 to 80 along the highways.
And in my utter control, in my utter relaxation, I always get turned on.
The vibrations of the seat play with my thighs, and the quiver is memorable, sentimental, and a blissful rush. The trembling easily works its way to my clit, and I can feel it swell as I grip the wheel.
Everytime I take a new, gliding turn, the car flying past signs to slow down, I tighten my cunt. The pulsing of the muscles is epically satisfying, but only because I speed past on-coming traffic, them completely unaware of my dampening pussy.
When I was younger I used to like to flash truckers, lofted in their cabs, looking down into the car. I would happily open a shirt and fondle a nipple. To this day, I much prefer being watched when I jerk off, and I imagine this must have crystallized at this stage in my development.
Even now, the feeling of being in control of this speeding mass of curves feels wanton. I have no where to be, no where to go, I simply drive to experience movement. I am only bound by how much I am willing to risk.
As my foot taps the petal I reach down between my legs. I usually prefer to have two hands on the wheel in these tight turns, but this feels better. I push my fingers immediately into my cunt, avoiding my clit altogether and begin to fuck. There is too much movement to focus on delicate flicks, even with a nail. I need to capitalize on this striking power and fuck. I need to be entered, violently. I want to be forced to take my own fingers.
My skirt pulls up around my waist as my hand digs into my wet pussy. I drip onto the leather seats below me, my underwear having rarely made it on a drive with me. I moan loudly, the windows rolled down enough to know my cries will echo.
I continue to fuck and speed, the road becoming winding and almost nauseating with sensation. I work my fingers in and out, pumping three into me even though it hurts. I want this now. I am demanding as much instant gratification from my cunt as I am from this car. The breeze streams in a chill but I am hot and flush. I continue to fuck myself, finally pulling out as I hit 55 to rub my clit ferociously. I dig at it, rough and uncaring. I drip from my cunt, the wetness not even making it to my open legs. I am vicious with my throbbing clit, feeling it swollen between my legs. I am so wet that friction is becoming a challenge and I suck and lick my fingers clean to push only harder and harder.
I dive back into my cunt, pumping just as fiercely. Every time I turn, I press just slightly down on the petal and the car surges forward. I try to only pound my pussy on the straight-away but I am having more and more close calls as I feel my orgasm building. I don't want to cull it with a lack of interest in speeding.
I pound, the needle on the car climbing. The road is tight, and so it my slit. I want to cum all over my fingers. I want to explode into my hand and lick it clean. As I slide into want I am immediately greeted with a turn and my hand jerks to the wheel to cascade around it. The hand print of cum is wrapped around the wheel as I return to my cunt.
I am rewarded with two lanes, and a long stretch of flat road. I return to fucking. I push a fourth finger inside me and cry out in pain. I fuck myself hard, letting the needle climb as high as she wants to go. I stream past a car or two as my orgasm finally wracks me. I scream, cumming on my legs, my fingers, the seat.
I blink rapidly, trying to get my bearings. I have lost any sense of where the hell I am. I drive, aimless. Spent. Wet.

The spell is cast. (Part 2)

2011-12-30T13:13:00.001-08:00

My skin, my body is tingling. My ass is red and warm from her hands and his eyes. My breathing is shallow. They trade places and he saunters up, ready for his strike. I brace, I breathe, I wait.
I hear them talking about me and I fight to keep my head in the room. His voice is slow, Southern honey while hers is a sharp smoke, with movement and purpose. And with all of that swirling, I hear them say I have been a good girl and I cannot help but smile. My muscles sink into the table just a little and I breathe with a little less fear.
He begins to tell me about why I am here. He moves over the story slowly, savoring it. Every word which drips from his mouth must taste like candy the way his tongue rolls over them in the most beautiful drawl.
Slowly, he pours oil over me, and I know what is next. I am giddy. It spills out like his words, flowing with all the time in the world. It leaves slicked patterns of chills over my legs are arms.
And then his hands begin to move. I am rapt in his strong, hands with their thick fingers and wide reach over my flesh. As he caresses, presses, molds and manipulates my skin, my flesh and my nerves, I feel as if I am drowning in pure bliss and I move into every stroke.
He speaks slowly as his hands work my oiled body, caressing and loosening every knot, every tightness, every slight imperfection to which my muscles cling.
I am lost in this world, my eyes sliding shut as I fight to keep them open. I am lost in a spell of whispered words, strong hands working my body, my skin still sizzling on the lingering coals of my paddling.
I lay there, slowly losing touch with my own existence as I feel my juices run down between the full cheek of my ass. I am dripping from the sensation.
This is my reward, and I am soaking in every moment of it. He speaks, his voice caressing my skin right along side his hands. It sends waves, electric floods through my body, working into the crevices. I can feel the ripples making my hips and legs and arms rock and pulse. The energy spills out of me in gasps and whimpers and moans which emanate from the base of my throat.
As my muscles lose all tension, it does not shed but shift. I can feel my cunt pulsing, tight and empty and wanting. I can feel my clit swell, throbbing and engorged.
I can feel her smile upon me, and it's a warmth which makes the whole room tingle. Her pleasure is tantamount to either of ours and it's palpable. We move, we emote, we twist, we touch to please her. And in this moment, she is pleased.
"Please" I finally whimper out.
"Yes?" He asks.
"Please may I touch my clit?" I beg, already half whimpering.
They both laugh, and I feel almost bashful. They discuss briefly, reviewing my performance for the day. I know in my heart I have tried as hard as I could have tried, and I can only hope that I have earned a reward.
When I see the vibrator come out, I almost clap with excitement. I hear it whir to life and my heart flutters. The wait before I feel it is eternal. I hear nothing, see nothing, I can only feel. The pulse emanates and returns to my clit, and every thump is powerful.
When it reaches my clit I almost scream with relief, the same as any steam-filled valve being released.
I begin to writhe almost immediately. It is so close to being too much. He holds it onto my clit in movements and pressure which begin painfully slow. It grinds down, every vibtration, every roll of the head making my clit more swollen and more at ease at the same time.
It is not long before I begin to cum to beg. I am loud, I am screaming, I am granted permission, and I am cumming for him, ruining all the precious relaxation from the massage.
I am jelly. I have no bones, no joints, no cartilage, I am simply spent on the table, breathing hard. They watch me, smirking at my predicament. At my will to move and do more to please but my body's unwillingness to ruin this feeling.
I look up and he is looking down on me, my naked body, my twitching cunt, watching me. It is his turn. He has given me the glow I now wear, and it is his turn.
She comes over, her smile letting me relax. If she is pleased, all is well.
"You've been a good girl." I nod thanks. I am still non-verbal. "Are you ready to serve again?" I nod again, feeling my lips curl into a smile.
I am rising back to life as she commands him to strip down. I watch as his cock appears, swollen and thick. I kick my lips against my will as I watch it bob and drip precum. I want it in my throat, but that is not my job today.
I have been so intent on watching, I didn't even notice she had moved close until I hear her in my ear.
"Stroke his cock." I nod as she maneuvers him onto all fours in front of me. I watch his body tense, watch the muscles flex and release. I watch as curiosity, fear moves into his face. If I had any question that he belonged to her completely, they are gone as his nerves blossom before me.
I reach forward, my lips so close to his skin I can almost taste it. I feel them brush against his tanned, taut flesh, the ridge of his jaw, the heat of his throat. I kiss, delicately, testing the feeling more I enjoy it. I am not afraid, but I am curious.
I grab his cock and feel him shudder. I exhale.
I squeeze it slowly, letting my fingers trail over the length, my thumb finding the tip - finding it wet and coated.
"You may kiss him." I nod. She has given approval. It will please her.
I continue to stroke. I pulse my hand around his cock, working my fist tight and then loose. I pump, dragging my hand up and down, squeezing and then releasing the entire way. I slide my hand to the head, pulsing around the tip, feeling precum ooze onto my fingers. The pads of my fingers find the base of the slit, just under the lip of the head and play it like a piccolo, flitting deep and soft over the soft skin.
I can still feel cum dripping out of my cunt as I lean in and begin to kiss him, tasting his tongue and finding only the sweetest Southern honey. His tongue is forceful and resigned to mine at the same time. I am kissing him and he is allowing it.
I feel him exhale against my mouth and when I look up it is clear why. She is behind him, working her way slowly into his ass. I exhale as I see her, intent and focused, fucking him, her fingers moving in and out.
I squeeze, trying to match her rhythm. I pump his cock as she works another finger into his ass. He moves against me, my lips balanced right on his pulse, which races. I watch her intently, trying so hard to be a simply extension of her control.
His moans and mine form a soft chorus of enjoyment. His cock swells in my hand as she pushes in another finger. His lips find my mouth and tear at my own. I stroke his balls with errant fingers, feeling them bulge in my small hand. My mouth finds his neck, his jaw, my tongue strokes the crest of his cheekbone.
His tanned skin is rippling over the muscles in his back. It glistens with the sweat which has sprung up. I watch his hips buck against her hand, which is pushing further and further into his ass. She is electric, radiant as she presides over this whole scene. I watch her slightest movement for cues and find his cock against with his my hand. I squeeze harder, stroking him with more urgency. As his hips move faster, I become more insistent on his orgasm. I want it. I want to see it splayed over the table, splashing and speckling my thighs.
His moans become more insistent, and ask for permission in their own right. She holds court, and all the energy in the room is manipulated by her. I can breathe only when she breathes. She is working his ass effortlessly, her focus so intent it almost hurts.
He begins to beg, and I begin to tremble. His desire is palpable. I can taste it in the sweat which glistens on his face. I can feel it in the tongue which enters my mouth. It grows in his cock, which is swollen and dripping down my hand.
She grants permission and he cums. I gasp at how his body bucks, rocks, moves, pulses, tightens, explodes. It is impressive in its power. I can feel his cum dotting my thighs. His groans make me tremble. His sighs bring me back to earth.
I re-find my place, kneeling on the table. I am ready for what is next. I am thrilled for what is to come.

The spell is cast. (Part 1)

2011-12-23T17:00:00.000-08:00

They said that things had started long before we saw each other. Well, he said that she had started things long before we saw each other. I believed him, if only because when I get around her I am so taken, I can barely catch my breath. That kind of magic doesn't just materialize. When I see the alter, with the candles, the trinkets, I realize that I should have been more caught off guard than I actually am.
I sit, trying to keep my posture as they lounge in thick, padded chairs in front of me, questioning me. I sweat, a little breathless and trying to wear my nonchalance like a shield against my own vulnerability. It feels precarious, though, and I try simply not to let my voice falter, betraying my calm exterior.
His voice has a slow, long drawl like the pouring of honey. It's rich and creamy and thick. It doesn't so much wash over me as wind around me in serpentine lyrics. As he tells me about the alter I'm looking at, about how Mistress has been planning, thinking about this moment, crafting the energy days in advance, I am all of a sudden heavy lidded but not tired. I am simply taken.
I have come to prove myself, my worth to these two. She is a demanding Mistress with a firm hand and a smokey voice. It is her pleasure which must be captured. She has been training him for years, and he has earned my training as his privilege. There is so much in these first precarious moments. Will I be a good enough prize? Am I worth training? Will I make her smile? Will I make him hard?
And it begins. She commands me to dance for her, to strip the few pieces I have covering me. I nod, rising. I begin to sway my hips to the music, hoping to find some rhythm in the flesh itself - praying that my curves will find music. I drop my bra, my tight nipples meeting the warm air of the space. My panties slide off next, riding down the curve of my ass more actively than passively. And I am naked, still swinging my hips, letting my body roll to the beat I have found in my head.
The beat fades as she commands she to stop, to crawl. I follow her directions as she points, directs me with her voice. He watches. He is in the center of all of this. His gaze makes me wet. Her commands make me drip. I want to show off, but I am not yet so bold. She tells me to pick three instruments from her beautifully organized wall.
I want to give her variety, choice. I am confident that I can take all of these implements, but the obvious power in her arms makes me quiver before her. I pray that no one notices - no one takes points away for what I can only describe as a very, very justified, anxious knot which is tightening. If I were a guitar I would be sharp, but there is no easy fix to my tightness.
I choose a paddle, a cane, and what would best be described as a terrifying looking switch. They will hurt immensely. They will prove I am serious.
She sits with a world of grace on the table where I had previous perched so nervously. She coaxed me over and I laid tentatively across her lap. She is telling me what a privilege this is and I already know. The way she speaks I can almost feel her tongue cross Ts and dot Is.
And then I feel it. Her hand comes down in the first blow. He is watching from a chair, staring at my ass as it reddens from her forceful arm. He is watching, hand up to his mouth, cock hardening in his pants as I squeal and wiggle on her lap.
I am trying not to move, take every blow in an acceptance which might look almost stoic to the untrained eye. To anyone who cannot see my mouth open and gasping, desperate for breath and relief. But it is not my place to ask for relief. It is my place to take it like a good girl.
I want to be a good girl.
She moves to the implements and I ride every wave that comes from her smacks. I am now not even concerned with the eyes on me or the noises coming from me, but instead I fear the cum which may be dripping from me as I writhe over her lap.
My ass is white-fire-hot to the touch, and with every wallup I can feel the energy moving through the paddle and into my skin. I can feel his eyes searing that firm dominance even deeper.
If I am a good girl we will both be rewarded. But first, Mistress must be happy. I have to please her, both for my sake and his, and I feel the weight of that upon me, driving the blows deeper. There is so much I want to do to prove I will be good, and all of it is coming down in blow after blow on my ass.
I begin to wiggle a little more but try and hold myself still. I desperately want my reward. I want it for me, and I want it for him. He has served her so well for so long, he deserves whatever reward she is going to give - even if that means more pain for me.
I ache as I writhe. Her strikes show no sign of fatigue or distraction. As the final blows come down I can feel whimpers sliding from my lips. When she finishes I am breathing hard. I can't tell if it's from the pain or the pleasure, but I don't mind either way.
"I think it's time for your treat." She says to him, her voice languid and smokey.
He nods, rising. I immediately search for a bulge in his pants. I love seeing a man hiding a swollen cock behind trousers. Those bulges are my treat.
She commands me to turn over, lay on my back, and of course, I oblige, closing my eyes, readying, preparing, breath and eyelids heavy with anticipation.

This is how fetishes are made.

2011-12-10T07:38:00.001-08:00

I love when he cums on me. I love when he shows his ownership by exploding all over my tits, my face. They become his. They become his property and he will make me wear his cum as long as he likes. He will make me lick up every drop, gathering it with my hand and making me lick my hands clean over and over. He will make every drop that does not dry go into my mouth after he has decorated me with a sign of how much he has enjoyed using me. I am a favored toy.
I love when he makes me nothing more than this. I am only a favorite toy for him to use. I am for display. I am a kneeling, wet, plaything which he has just cum upon. Which he has just made a receptacle for his wet, sticky cum. I am nothing more than the damp rag he cleans up with. And I can only enjoy this place, knowing that I am nothing more than this. I am owned. I am property, chattel. I am for use. I am for destruction.
I love when he make me wait for it. I kneel, mouth open and tongue hanging just slightly out like a willing, wanting dog. He may explode, shooting it straight into my throat, allowing me to swallow as I close my lips around his cock as he fills my mouth. But it's the anticipation, watching his jaw tighten as he prepares. Watching him hold his cock with the tip just resting on my tongue, and knowing that it is coming, is the sweetest of moments. I about about to receive my prize.
I love feeling it hit the back of my throat, and feeling the power of his cum. It's explosive, almost cruel in how it glides down my throat whether I like it or not. If I'm not careful, I will cough but I will be careful. When he cums this hard I know it will splash, force itself deeper into my mouth immediately, spray onto my chin, cheeks, across my nose, into my hair. He is reckless with his cum, and I am simply canvas.
I love when his cum becomes a part of pleasuring him all over again. It slowly pours from his cock, laying in a long string on my tongue like honey and I hold it in my mouth before using it to suck his cock all over again. Covering his cock in his own cum, and then licking it off all over again, I am his assistant, I am in service completely.
And in this moment, (in this coffee shop), if I think and try and fight and struggle, I can just barely taste his cum right now. There is nothing more that want.

Sleeping Alone.

2011-12-10T07:31:00.000-08:00

Last night I came thinking about you pushing my face into the bed, fucking me mercilessly. My ass and thighs were already red from a harsh beating, and I thought I had finally reached my reward for taking it like a good girl for you. My ass is still warm from your hands, your toys, your will. You pounded my cunt hard, until I was on the verge of tears, and then slow, fucking me with deep, long strokes which made me push back into your cock. I would get closer and closer until I started to beg you to cum, and then you would pound again, making sure it hurt all over again. I felt so powerless, so at your control. When you finally said I was allowed to cum I was so on the edge I exploded, screaming both for the first time in full voice from pain, but also in full voice with a desperate, clinging, powerful orgasm with your cock buried inside me.

Camera + Girl + New Panties

2011-12-03T16:25:00.000-08:00

Brooklyn Bridge, 10:30pm

2011-11-30T10:36:00.000-08:00

I'm in a coffee shop right now, I should mention. I was supposed to work on my thesis, but my mind is just buzzing from a wonderful night and I can't seem to wrap my head around Ellul right now in a way which would be fruitful.
I keep pressing my legs together trying to gain some pressure, but without a hand in between my legs, pushed deep into my tights, and fingers pushed deep into my cunt it all seems like a pathetic attempt to regain something which can only be elusive right now.
As soon as we got in the car I pulled his hand between my legs. I just needed him to know how wet I was. That even though nothing could happen tonight, how much I wanted something to. His jaw dropped at how soaked I was. I always say that I get wet... really wet... and for some reason people simply don't believe me. Or they think that I have a different perception of "really wet" than I should. When I tell them it's half pride, half warning, but for some reason they think I'm significantly daintier than I actually am.
I push his hand deeper, grind down on his palm, which is covered in my cum already. I grind for pressure, to feel the warmth of his fingers inside me. His fingers flick over my pussy and I tremble.
When he pulls his hand away, his fingers are covered, soaking, and my cum drips off of them. I immediately lower my mouth to them, licking them clean, leaving him only with the scent of my cunt as we cross the Brooklyn Bridge, artificial lights skimming through and across the windows.
I stroke his cock through his pants, and feel every ridge and pulse. The thin fabric of his far too expensive pants prevents nothing. I squeeze, I stroke, I delight in his sounds.
I can still, if I close my eyes and remember just right, feel his cock in my palm. Feel it swell. It's really a very nice cock. Beautifully cut and of perfect thickness. I want to ride it and feel it swell inside me.
I fumble towards his belt and he unzips his pants, instead, pulling his cock out. I stroke at first. I want my mouth on his. I want his tongue against mine. I want his teeth on my lips and my inner thigh. Right now.
I can't tell if it's the memory or the door which keeps opening, but I get chills which keep running through me, and makes my breath catch.
I stop kissing him... which I should never, ever have done... and lower my mouth to his cock. I press it to the back of my throat, feeling my spit drip down over it. The cars moves, slows, stops, moves again, but it's all lost to me. I just want his cock inside me. I think briefly about the driver, but sadly it's only a fleeting thought. I think about the cock in front of me more.
His sounds spur me on, both to suck harder and to push it deeper into my throat. He pushes against me and I just barely gag on his cock. I pull back and lick the head of his cock, letting my tongue slide into the slit. I want to taste his cum desperately. I want the taste of him to fill my mouth and slide down my throat.
I sip tea, surrounded by a myriad of people who don't know how wet I am. Who have no idea that all I can think about is his swollen cock in my mouth. I hold my cup and smile. They would never guess.
I keep pumping his cock with my hand, eager. I usually enjoy giving blow jobs. I love sucking it into my mouth, teasing it out, making it last as long as I can. I love running my tongue over the tip, stroking the shaft in a firm grip and then teasing it with my fingers. I love sucking cock.
But not last night. Last night all I wanted was his cum. I wanted him to cover me in a full load, pumping his cock until it exploded over me. I wanted to see it unleash his white, hot, sticky cum all over my face and tits. I want him to cum in my mouth and let droplets spray onto my chin and drip down. I want it to crescendo over my body, to splash over my ass and decorate the tattoo on my back. I want him to make me his, claim his territory.
But all I can do, in this tiny car, is suck. I am forceful and eager with my hand. I have a goal, and it is not simply pleasure. I want to swallow every drop of cum he can muster.
I suck furiously, pumping my head up and down. I feel him tentatively place a hand on the back of my head, and while I don't often enjoy this specific move, the contact and pressure are perfect. I want him to press my head down, to feel his fingers tense in my hair.
Despite the un-included third person in the car, there is nothing furtive to this. There is only disregard and base need.
I stare around at the people in the coffee shop and they haven't noticed how my breathing is frighteningly staggered. I can't help it. I try and relax a little but my legs are twined together and my nipples are painfully hard against my bra.
I often think back and wish I had done things differently. I wish I had kissed him more. I wish I had felt his hands more on my bare skin. I wish for more of everything, more time, more words, more fucking, more privacy, more space, more of everything good. I wish I am sitting on his desk being fucked and not in this chilly coffee shop. But this is just as fruitless and I refuse to be anything less than pleased and wet.
His hand on the back of my head, and I am only more eager. I suck. I press. I ache. I pull.
I can feel his fingers tighten and I know I will get what I want.
He groans in the back of his head and pushes forward, up, tightening his grip on me. I want more and more and more and he cums.
It spills into my mouth, filling, warm and thick. It runs down my throat as I swallow in gulp after gasp. I want to let it run out of my mouth, dripping back down his cock so I can clean it up all over against with my tongue, but in the car this is unfeasible. I swallow, hair held tight, head held down. He tastes like exuberance. He tastes like want. He tastes like richness and royalty. He tastes like I imagine things taste like when I imagine tastes.
I wipe the corners of my mouth and let him find his breath. I lay my head on his chest and just watch as the car slows, but still passes, the front of my building. I say nothing.

Remnants

2011-11-21T09:46:00.000-08:00

After he made me kneel on the rice, the scars lasted for longer than I anticipated. Small red welts covered the delicate space just below my knees.
I was angry at first, pouting that my body had weakened enough to show the memory of his work. But the more I saw them, the more they allowed me to remember that moment, kneeling in front of him, begging with only my eyes and tears. I could feel the sting of him slap on my face again. I smelled the sweat which dampened my chest as I became more and more resilient.
That is, until I touch them. Days later, I am masturbating, taking another break from the day or waking up, or finding some other excuse to cum.
My knees are bent, my hand buried in my cunt. I am soaking, working towards cumming, trying to pull back and wait, forcing myself to be patient.
I rub my clit slowly, flicking it, rubbing it in slow circles over and over. My mind wanders here and there, but it goes blank when I hit a nerve and a shudder runs down my spine.
My other fingers are slowly moving in and out of my cunt. Nothing too fast, nothing too thrilling, simply the enjoyment of the feeling of my fingers moving over the throbbing walls of my pussy. I love to be fucked deeply, to gasp as a cock hits the hilt of my cunt. But that's not today. Today is easy.
I begin to work myself up once more, noting that the time is ticking away and I do have things to get back to today. My fingers begin to work faster, making my toes curl around the edge of the bed. I was impatient now, waiting to cum and get up so I could go and finish the list of things waiting for me this afternoon.
The pressure inside me began to build. My legs grow tight in want. My muscles tense and wait. I want to push myself over the edge slowly and cascade down.
But then I touch them. One hand on my cunt, I take the other, still slicked with juices, and wrap it around my bent knee, pressing directly into the cuts which still burn, igniting pain I was not anticipating.
The shock is not unwelcome by a long shot. The moment of kneeling for him flood back. My fingers begin to press harder, tender spots stinging and making me want to cry while it shoots back down through my spine like an electric shock.
I cum. I cum hard. I cum harder than I was anticipating. I cum harder than I remember cumming in ages. I explode, squirting onto the unprotected sheets, juices dripping down and between the flesh of my ass. I am covered.
The sting hangs on for hours after I have cum. The clean up takes ages. I am again angry and wet and horny and frustrated. What bliss.

The things we do to grow...

2011-11-17T20:53:00.000-08:00

I am bent over, my tits pressed against the black vinyl. I can't tell if I'm breathing hard because I am afraid or I am letting the full weight of my upper body hang on this barely padded spanking bench. I can't tell because I am both. I can feel my body tingling with waves of fear. Everything is on edge.
My hands are bound behind my back, red plastic-y duct tape. My fingers try and find each other, but my wrists are crossed and I can only feel them wiggle in desperation. I'm sure he enjoys this look. I know he must like the fact that I am helpless, so purely in need of him.
My eyes are covered, my head wrapped countless times by the red tape. I fear it's going to rip out my eyelashes until I realize that the tears which have sprung so unwillingly from my eyes are protecting them. It pushes my hair slightly into my face, but mostly it crushes down on my nose and temples.
I can only hear my breath, feel it grow ragged. My ass is already red and sore from the power of his hands. His large hands, his long fingers are tender and merciless. I hate how much I ache for them. These hands which give both a relentless grooming into his strong, good girl. These hands which make me cum until I can't fathom being more spent.
But he does not use his hands right now. He picks up a wooden brush and begins to beat my ass. No matter how nervous, how warmed up, how desperate I am to gain his approval, there is nothing which can prepare me for this. The pain is white, blinding.
Every time the hard wood lands I cry out, my knees buckling at least slightly. I want to stand straight for him but every time I feel the brush my body insists on responding. My body wants to much to run, and I should crumple onto the floor and beg for mercy. Every instinct I have ever learned is screaming to make this blistering pain end. If I even whispered "stop" I know he would at least pause and I could get some sweet relief for my flesh. I can stop this at any moment, despite my palms damp with sweat as they squeeze tight enough to draw blood from my own nails. I can beg him for mercy and he would relent.
But despite my body's desperate pleas, the thought of asking for mercy never crosses my mind. It is not my call to make. I can take the pain and for his approval I would take much more.
And so they continue and I can only scream and cry and pray that he will be satisfied with this beating soon. Once he is satisfied with my performance, I will be sated in knowing that I have made him proud. I would not be able to live with myself if I failed him.
He finally places the brush down and I feel his hands on my skin. I can feel the pressure, but the feeling has not yet returned. Tears simply dampen my eyes and smear my makeup below the duct tape.
White heat replaces numbness and I can simply feel a deep aching. My breath is weak, ragged, and I know I'm shaking. He stands behind me, holding onto my hips and I struggle to touch him more. I want to feel his body against mine. I want nothing more.
I can feel his hard cock under his pants and this is my reward. I breath deeply for the first time. His pleasure makes me feel proud.
He nudges my legs outward, and I step wide, refusing to pull back from his touch. I need more. I would beg for more if I thought it would do anything more than annoy him. He will give me my reward when I deserve it.
I breathe once more, but it against goes ragged as pain begins to set in in new waves. His hand rests on my spine, and I can barely hear him through the duct tape and my own weeping.
"Focus, baby."
I nod in the slightest twitch. It is time to regroup, possibly for another beating.
I gladly resume my position, rigid and bent over. There is sometimes a moment where I wonder how I could take some much, where I question this.
I do not have this moment.
He reaches to my cunt and it is dripping. His fingers dip into my cunt and are quickly soaked with my cum. I moan, feeling my pussy tighten around him. I push down on his hand, wanting more and more of his hand.
"You're a horny little slut, aren't you baby?"
I nod eagerly.
"You're my whore, aren't you?"
I nod even harder as his fingers begin to move on my clit.
"You'll fuck anything I tell you, won't you?"
"Yes yes yes." I finally squeak out.
I feel him move away just slightly, and then I feel the hairbrush on my thighs again. It strokes over the skin, the wooden ridge tenderly grazing the soft flesh that would burst instantly under a powerful stroke with the wood.
But this is not on his mind.
I feel the handle of the brush push at my cunt. He does not hesitate. My cunt is soaked and swollen and ready for anything to slide inside and he takes full advantage of this. The brush slides up to the hilt with ease and he begins to fuck me.
My hips rock against the wood and I can feel the bristles roughly move against my pussy. His fingers move on my clit and I lean into his body for the first time. I gasp, whimpering, groan. There is nothing more I want than to be fucked for his entertainment.
He thrusts forcefully, the butt of the handle pounding into my tight cunt. I can feel it slamming into my cervix and I simply pump harder.
My cunt tightens around the awkwardly swollen end of the brush. It rubs me in ways I don't know how to process. I cry out with pure lust, shifting against his solid body. It anchors me as I rock my hips harder and harder. My juices are dripping down over the handle and his grip tightens.
I bend my knees to feel it deeper inside my pussy. My noises are growing louder as I still struggle for balance. My hands work against the duct tape and I wish to whatever God I still believe in that he would just touch me harder, more, longer, anything to get him inside me, even if I have to soak his touch through my skin.
He continues to fuck me with the brush. I wonder if he will be able to grip the handle again enough to beat me (if he likes) now that it's covered in my juices. I know they are soaking into the black, stiff bristles. This brush will never be free of the smell of my pussy.
I can feel my cunt awkwardly tightening. His fingers move on my clit and I begin to pant, tensing. I am focused now. The pain is gone, and now there is only want. Want to cum, want to collapse, want to explode and squirt all over this brush, the floor, my panties, his hand. I try and open my mouth to cry out, but the duct tape pressing on my nose makes it hard. I try my best.
"Fuck it, baby."
I do.
"Do you want to cum for me?"
I do.
"Then do it."
And I do.

To make good use

2011-11-16T20:54:00.000-08:00

"Fuck her."
She holds onto my hair. I am surprised she said anything audible for me at all, as I've only been hearing remnants of sentences and ideas all night. They only make sense when something happens, and I can piece together what the original was, but this is simply a command and I know what is coming.
She has put a blindfold on me, which she knows I detest. She knows it fucks my entire sense of control, but she detests that even from the bottom, I think I have control.
My arms have been tied behind my back for so long they've gone numb. Another rope pulls my arms down by the elbows to hug my body and wrap around a long leather bench over which I bend.
Her hand remains on the back of my head, despite the rustling I hear. I know this must be him preparing something. He moves around, close to her and then away.
I brace.
He doesn't respond, but he doesn't need to. He is in just as much control of me as she is. But she is just as much control of him as he is of me.
I hear movement, but I can barely register it. And then I hear a zipper. I shift my hips, and her hand tightens in my hair, throwing me off again. She doesn't want me prepared for his cock.
If I wasn't fucking dripping wet already she would have insisted I stay dry to make it hurt more.
She is a fucking bitch. She is amazing.
Two of her fingers find their way into my mouth and I begin to suck. She chokes me with them and I sputter but continue. Despite being tied back, I am eager to please her fingers. To feel them shift in my mouth. Spit fills my mouth as she pokes at the back of my throat.
It begins to pool in my mouth and I do not hesitate to let it run down my chin and drip heavily onto the floor.
I couch slightly around her fingers and she takes this moment to pull my mouth open and shove her hard cock into my mouth. As she does this he pulls my hips and shoves his cock inside me as well.
I am filled.
They both begin to fuck, and I feel myself opened and destroyed altogether. As she slams my throat he destroys my cunt. They are hard and wanton and have no pity for the girl tied down.
I want them to use me. I want them to cum. I want them.

And then there were two.

2011-11-06T13:43:00.001-08:00

I kneel, wearing little more than lace and good will. There is a black collar around my neck, thick leather which is just tight enough to be felt constantly. The collar has a single ring on the front, and it hangs with a looming weight. It will be pulled. It will be used.
I am not alone. I kneel next to another girl. Beautiful. She waits with me. We don't look at each other because when we do, we smile. There is something about waiting next to another pretty girl that makes me heart skip. She will be my partner in this crime.
We wait, hands delicately lilting on our cold, bare thighs. Our nipples are hard, four tight points waiting straight across for attention, red lace and then blue lace pulled across. I can feel the heat from her body next to mine. We are both warm with nerves, yet our skin is dotted with goosebumps. I want to just ask her what she thinks will happen. I want her to know I'm nervous and ask her is she is, too.
He is having us wait, and I know he's listening intently. He knows our voices, so whoever speaks will be beaten, probably by the other one.
When he finally walks in we are at full attention. I rise just slightly, my posture perking and stiffening. My hands are behind my back, holding onto my forearms. I am on my knees, but not resting. My black platforms just barely kiss as I make sure my feet are together, though my knees remain wide. I have been devoted to his training, and now simply get excited to perform my tasks for him. His smile of approval leaves me wet and tingling.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see her smiling as well. She is poised and at attention. I also see her looking at me out of the corner of her eye and we cannot help but smile wider.
He sees this and slaps me across the face. He chooses us at random to punish. Sometimes she is punished for my mistakes, and sometimes I am rewarded for hers. It catches us off guard, but it means we are inextricably tied together.
We rise and his hands drop to his side. We know.
We both rise onto our knees and, with a smile to each other, I begin to work on his belt while she rubs his cock through his pants. He begins to get hard as he smiles at his girls. We are devoted to his service. We are devoted to his attention. But most of all, to his pleasure.
She rubs her cheek against his pants, stroking his clothed thigh with her soft skin. I am the first to reach his cock and stroke it slowly with my hand. I kiss the head softly, tenderly. I kiss down his shaft, my lips full and pressing onto his swollen cock. As I slide my tongue back down to the tip, her mouth moves up and begins to fully kiss his balls. Her lips are full and wet and beautiful. I begin to suck slowly on the head as her tongue runs up and to the base of him.
I finally feel a hand on the back of my head as he pushes himself into my mouth. As her tongue begins to work his shaft, my mouth starts to slide down. I suck and slide until my lips meet hers.
We both slide back down, my lips sliding back to the head. Her tongue works the base of his cock, working back down to his balls, sucking them into her mouth. I watch her suck them as I feel precum drip onto the back of my tongue and down my throat.
We nudge closer, and finally our knees meet. My hand finds her thigh and hers mine.
As his cock hits the back of my throat, I feel drool begin to run down my chin, dripping heavy onto the floor, hitting my tits on its way down. She squeezes my thigh slightly and I know she wants her turn.
I pull back and eagerly move my tongue over his shaft. He has his hand tight in my hair, but lets me do as I please. I lap quickly, playing my tongue over and over his shaft. She begins to suck heartily, and I move back down to his balls, pulling them completely into my mouth. They fill my mouth, and my tongue curls around them. I feel them tightening and I can only run my tongue harder, more eagerly.
She sucks him hard. We are both so eager we are squeezing each other's hands. I finally pull back, my tongue finding his shaft again, as does hers. It is only a moment before our tongue work each others and his cock at the same time. Her mouth is just as wet and swollen as mine.
He tells us to get back and we do, rising to perfect attention and leaning back just slightly as he grabs his cock, spraying wave after wave of cum over our tits, necks, chests. When he is done he will kiss both of us on the top of the head and leave just as quietly as when he came in. We will clean each other off. We will curl into a ball together, and know that we have done well today. And then we will sleep.

Show your girl some love

2011-10-24T14:25:00.000-07:00

So as many of you know, in addition to being a wanton slut, I'm also a community organizer with the Sex Workers Outreach Project here in NYC. We do everything from public advocacy to community support to know your rights trainings. Among a lot of other things. The challenge? We're a completely volunteer-run, grassroots organization. That's right - no formal funding, no paid staff.
I've been doing community organizing with this group for two years and I can't say enough for the group and how transformational it is to have something like this around. I joined the group as a community member and almost three years alter I'm still there as an organizer, and I can't stress how important this work is.
And now for the ask: we have the opportunity to go a conference in a few weeks which reaches a whole new area: adult film. Below is a blog entry about why this is so important, but long story short - adult film is one of the most organized, well-funded areas of sex work. They do lots of advocacy, but rarely on behalf of the actors. We will be the only advocacy and rights organization at the conference, and without that voice, these concerns will once again be brushed aside. They've comped us all the registration fees, but it still costs us a good chunk of change for the rest of the fees. We're already paying our own transportation, hotel, etc, so we're really just asking for help covering our fees and printing and we only have FOUR days left to raise the cash! Which is why I'm asking.
Now here's the second pitch. For anyone who donates over $50, I will write you your very own blog entry. Tell me what turns your crank, and I'll write something super dirty just for you. Send me an email telling me you donated and what you like to hear and cross my sick little fucked-up heart, it's yours. In addition to whatever other cool swag you'll get.
So for everyone who wants to garner favor and love: http://www.indiegogo.com/Help-SWOP-NYC-Attend-Exxxotica

Thanks all! Promise something dirty is on its way!

Why this is Important:

Next month will conclude a series of conferences for the adult film industry which have cris-crossed the country in the last few months. In its fifth year, Exxxotica now boasts an average of 20,000 attendees at each exhibition, bringing together adult film stars, devotees and exhibitors of every stripe. This year, SWOP-NYC has been invited to join in the event, and we are excited for the opportunity to attend, and reach a whole new group of people with our work and our advocacy.

But this event is bigger than just new membership. The adult film industry is an important area in the field of sex work, and one which is often overlooked in sex industry advocacy. One major difference between the adult film industry and many other sectors of sex worker are that it operates within legally established bounds, meaning many of the challenges around legalization are faced in a very different arena. But this also means that adult film performers are one of the most organized areas of the sex industry. The industry has a strong voice in expanding what is legally permissible, and has the capital and voice to engage directly in the political system to advocate for expanding its borders.

What is still lacking, though, is a stronger voice to advocate for the rights of performers, both at work and in their day-to-day lives. Adult performers still face issues such as stigmatization, mandatory health testing, privacy and copyright concerns, and exploitation. Just this year filmmaker and sex educator Tristan Taormino was uninvited from speaking at Oregon State University’s conference on “Modern Sex” for her body of work in progressive, often education-focused pornography. Three months later a site calling itself “Porn Wikileaks” revealed the legal names, stages names, home addresses, and HIV statuses of 15,000 current and former performers. According to a Gawker article on the subject, the site (which has since been closed) not only reveled in revealing legal names of performers, “but their addresses, family members’ information, copies of state identification—even Google Maps pictures of their homes.”

These very real hurdles are human and labor rights violations which are the exact reasons why advocacy exists, and what is needed is a voice not for the industry but for the worker. SWOP-NYC is ready and primed to be that voice. By attending the Exxxotica Conference, SWOP-NYC will be the only group bringing this much-needed message to a community primed and ready for change.

For the event, SWOP-NYC is trying to raise $1,000, both for attendance and the printing of new materials (including a swanky new t-shirt!). Please help SWOP and SWANK bring this message to an industry which is ready for action by donating today. We’re offering some great donor rewards for those who are kind enough to show their support.

Open Letter.

2011-10-09T18:28:00.000-07:00

To my dearest xxx,
I wish you are here but sadly, you're far, far away tonight. I want to kiss you but that's all I can do and the thought is practically painful.
Bad hurt.
I sit with my legs closed, squeezing them now and then to try and gain some pressure as I busy my hands. My clit would be raw with unsatisfying cold and emptiness if I let myself play as much as I want, trying to get the high of your hands.
I tried to watch porn, but there was nothing inspiring. I watched women and men getting fucked in position after position which we have or should have used by now. I watched cum shots until they bored me. I couldn't bare another girl on girl 69.
But I will wait. I would rather ache. I would rather wait, letting my wetness pool in my panties, letting blood and pressure build. I'll let it stew inside me, growing slowly like vines over my body until I can't take it anymore and I fuck myself wildly. Later. Alone.
I'll do everything I'm sure people already think I do. I'll mount vibrating appliances, fill my holes with dildos and thick vegetables. I'll call myself names, fucking wildly, with the purest sense of abandon. I'll play Russian roulette with fantasies, waiting until the chamber clicks and I feel like I'm going to die. I'll cum in rivers and screams and tears so hard I fear I may pass out. I'll gasp for air. I'll be sore tomorrow, and feel shame for my recklessness.
All in a wish for a single strong hand of yours coming strong across my face, the richest pain settling into my cheek and jaw.
But still I wait.
This is as close to chaste as I will ever be.
Devoted,
your ~~girl.~~ ~~whore.~~ girl.

The New Girl Regrets

2011-09-21T07:36:00.000-07:00

I know he is displeased. He has told me to meet him on a corner and now I wait. I arrived a few moments early, hoping to prove my dedication. He has instructed me to wear a t-shirt, skirt, shoes, and nothing else. I am without a jacket or umbrella, though it is chilly and drizzling.
I cross my arms, shivering. My teeth chatter and I feel goosebumps rise up my legs and coat my arms. My nipples tighten to the point of pain. The minutes tick on and I realize I will wait until I am crippled and sick if he doesn't come.
I wait, looking from side to side as I wait on the corner. The wind begins to pick up and I am cold deep into the core of my being. I press my legs together for warmth, rubbing my arms up and down in a desperate wish to no longer hurt.
When I finally see him approaching, covered by a large umbrella, I smile. A familiar burst of excitement cascades through me and is displayed readily on my face, but then I remember what I am facing and my joy withers in its wake.
When he approaches, I am not only aware of how unhappy he is with me, but afraid of what he will do. He speaks little, and his eyes can barely acknowledge me. I feel tears perching, ready to spring. The weight of his ambivalence is destroying me.
"Come." He says as he sees me, and I follow him obediently. If he told me to suck his cock right there, I would have. If he told me to strip down and sit on the dirty, wet ground, I would have. If he told me to leave him alone for ever, I would have cried.
I do not try and speak while we are together, just trailing behind him, head bowed. We walk to a building not far. He opens the door and I enter the building, my heart beginning to squeeze and pulse aggressively, slowly choking on blood. I can hear my pulse in my ears, feel it in my eyes. I am so nervous that I almost trip, and he still says nothing.
He walks in front of me, waiting at and inside the elevator, and then in front of a door I can only imagine is his. He opens the door and leaves the lights off. Muted sunlight sneaks in through the clouds and hints through the thin shades which are drawn. I can see both just enough and not nearly enough in the same moment.
"Take off your clothes." The door closes behind me, sealing my fate.
I strip slowly, taking off damp shoes, my skirt, and my t-shirt, folding them and leaving them in a pile next to the door. He takes my hand, squeezing it firmly in his much larger fist. I follow slowly, my feet making soft whispers on the wood floor. I keep my head down and so it is a small lifetime until I see it.
There is a large swath of rice spread out over the hardwood floor. My shoulders slump and I almost pull back, knowing what I am about to face. I open my mouth and feel the same tears which were held so gracefully before come to life and begin to spill.
"Come on, baby."
I nod, looking up at him, my face worn with self-pity.
"Are you really crying already? It's just rice. Now come on, you know you have earned this."
I nod again, looking down. I slowly succumb, lowering myself onto my knees, onto the rice, feeling it settling onto the floor and into my skin. I wince as the tears dry, and I find resolution to take my punishment.
The rice presses unevenly, sharply, into the flesh of my knees and shins. I shift, but that only makes it worse. I try and remain still, resolute.
He begins to walk. "You know what you did, right?"
I nod.
"Tell me."
"I spoke out of place. I was disrespectful."
"You were."
I was.
"I'm sorry, Sir." I hear him pick up what I can only assume is an implement I will soon regret exists. "I'm so, so sorry, Sir."
The rice feels like it's piercing my skin. I can only imagine the indents which will form underneath me.
"How sorry are you, baby?"
"I regret it every waking moment. I want you to forgive-"
"I didn't ask what you want, I asked how sorry you were."
The familiar swipe through the air lets me know before it even hits my skin that it is a cane. In a blinding flash of white heat it climaxes on my ass. I lurch forward, opening my mouth to cry out and finding only silence. Every time I move, the rice digs in further.
"I'm sorry, Sir. I regret it every waking moment. I wish I had not been so careless."
He strikes me again, softer. The pain is still evident but I know not to move. The more firmly I take these swipes the less it will hurt and the more he will know my apology is sincere.
"Count, baby."
And I do, all the way to ten. I am burning. I am numb. I am in excruciating pain. He places down the cane and walks to the chair I am facing.
"Tell me why you did it."
"Because I'm stupid." My tear have dried on my cheeks. He slaps me across the face, his hand firm and resolute.
"No, you're not stupid. I don't deal with stupid girls. You're a smart, thoughtful young woman. Now. Tell me why you did it."
I struggle to breathe and he takes the silence to reach over and push down on my legs, grinding them into the shards of rice on the floor. I sniffle, wiping my nose and trembling.
"I don't know, I fucked up."
"You're a smart girl, think about it." He gets up again, and tells me to count. He picks up the cane, this time laying 15 stripes over my ass. I feel his hand move over the welts that begin to form. His fingers are delicate over the marks but it still sears at my skin.
He comes to sit down in front of me again, waiting for the right answer. I hunt for it.
"Tell me why you did it."
"Because I was afraid." He slaps me again and I can feel my own pain mixing and diluting with anger. I am angry at him, I am angry at myself. He can see my jaw grow tight, my eyes narrow.
"Do you want a break?"
I am softened, visibly, and I nod. He holds out his arm and I stand. He brushes rice front the indentations in my knees, working them clean, and rubbing them softly. They are slowly coming back to life.
"You're a good girl. Act like it." I nod. "Are you ready?" I shake my head, my bottom lip trembling again. His hand skates over my face, his fingers grazing my cheekbones and jaw. "You're ready, baby."
I nod, lowering again. I see a glint of a smile in his eye and I know. As I lower back down a new wave of pain is born anew, stronger. Everywhere which was painful before hurts again, deeper, and I cry out softly from the pain. Places which had not hurt began to hurt all over again. It was a mistake to stand up, it was a mistake to sit back down. He pushes my legs down harder into the rice and I begin to cry again. Full sobs turn to whimpering, which turn to heavy breathing, which turns to seething rage. This is a test I will win. I refuse to lose. I refuse to tell me that I am not sorry enough to take his punishment.
He sees the resolution in my face as my jaw tightens and begins to laugh.
"Oh my sweet, sweet girl." His hand runs over my face again. His thumb touches my lips and I kiss. He coaxes my mouth open and I take his thumb into my mouth. I suck softly and then firmly, licking the thick, rough pad of his finger. I want his cock, but I will take this.
He lifts my head with his thumb and I look at him, aggression poorly disguised.
"I like seeing that fire, baby."
I take more of his thumb into my mouth. I feel my teeth graze and my eyes shoot to his. He is curious. I slowly let my teeth come down on his thumb, just testing to see what he'll do. My teeth sink firmer into his thumb. He does not move and I press harder, tighter on his finger. I see him almost wince and I do not let go. My teeth remain resolute and I almost forget the rice cutting through the skin of my knees.
"Let go." I wait. "Let go or I'll beat the shit out of you right here." I pause, debating, my eyes never leaving his. Finally, after a long minute I left go and in the same motion he pulls his thumb from my mouth and smacks me hard across the face. My face remains turned as my breath heaves loudly. He grabs my chin and turns my face. My eyes have never been tighter.
"Now what the fuck were you thinking with that, baby?"
"I want you to know what you have." My teeth remain clenched.
"I know what I have." He pauses. My anger does not. "I have a beautiful, smart, strong, thoughtful, obedient girl."
I nod, still resolute in my posture. I can imagine blood beginning to drip onto his beautiful floor. I can only imagine him forcing me to lick it up later, but now I only want to continue bleeding.
"Now tell me. Why did you ask what you did?" I pause again, and in this silent moment he pushes in my legs again, grinding them into the rice and slicing them open anew. "Come on, prove to me you're a good girl. Confess."
"I was angry." I finally wail. He stops and sits back. "You said that I had been careless before, and you were going to replace me, and I was hurt and wanted to hurt you."
And he has his confession. I don't know how to feel anymore. I am angry and hurt and still desperate to prove how sorry I am for all of it.
He nods, stroking my face again. He pushes my hair back. "You aren't getting up yet." I nod. "What if I asked you to stay for another hour?"
I pause, staring at him, breathing hard. We wait, and I struggle. I finally shake my head. He laughs and my shoulders drop. "Oooh, a chink in her armor."
I nod. "I would try."
"You would die trying." I nod. "That's why I'm here, baby. I'm not going to let you get hurt." He walks over to stand in front of where I'm kneeling. I lean against him, my cheeks covered in dried tears and streaks of mascara. "Make me cum and you can get up."
I eagerly tear at his pants, opening them as fast as I can. I pull out his cock and try and swallow it whole. I am eager and aggressive, sucking as hard as I can. I hear him moan, his hand going to the back of my head. He is surprised by the force with which I take him inside my mouth. I squeeze his cock in my hand and suck on the head, licking over the head, tasting the precum which has been dripping out of the slit. His noises encourage me to suck and pump harder. I want desperately to stand, and to feel him cum in my mouth. I want to taste him.
He pushes into my throat and I fight to pull back, feeling myself gag as he forces himself deeper inside me. I pull back momentarily, a thick line of drool still connecting my tongue and his cock. I gasp just enough before he pulls my head back down onto his cock and I continue to suck and lick and fuck him.
His grip in my hair pulls stronger and the closer he gets, the more eager I get. I begin to swallow deeply, pulling more and more of his cock into my throat. I am choking struggling, gasping, but I can feel drops of precum sliding faster down my throat.
My hands squeeze his balls, tugging slightly as I try and reach my tongue that far.
He finally pulls out and begins to cum, loudly, as stream after powerful stream lands in lines across my face and cheeks. He covers me, exploding into my mouth, across my face and eyes. It drips down onto my tits. I am as breathless as he is.
He waits a long moment, catching his breath, and I hold onto his legs tightly. My knees tremble, waiting to stand. He pulls me up and picks up my shirt hem to wipe off my face.
I collapse against him, cum and tears still staining my cheeks as trickles of blood begin to find my shins, my ankles, and finally, the floor.

Sometimes it takes some help

2011-09-18T10:41:00.000-07:00

The house is empty. Not just of people, but of everything- no furniture, no pictures, nothing to let anyone know anyone had ever lived there. The electricity doesn't work, so it was easy to crack a window and slide myself in. He, on the other hand, needed to wait until I could open a door for him.
The walls are pale and the floors clean. When I lay on my back in the foyer of the house, there is nothing to look at so I can only close my eyes.
He slides down my skirt and then panties, and we make no small talk. He folds them putting them aside and slides between my knees on the cold tile floor. I would have put the skirt under my ass to keep me warmer, but that makes no sense tonight.
He begins to suck my clit, using the slightest pressure from his lips. I let out the slightest of breaths and he continues, teasing me with the lightness of his touch.
He moved in with his tongue, knowing this will get me fucking wet. We have all the time in the world and he has clear instructions. I don't want to hear him, just feel him. I open my eyes periodically, and each time remember that there is nothing to look at.
I lift one bent leg and place my foot on the shelf of his bare back. I push softly, gently forcing him down into my dampening cunt. He's supposed to make me fucking drip.
He works his tongue over and over, up and down in long swipes. I can feel my pussy beginning to ache, feel my clit swell between his lips, under the heat and pressure of his tongue.
I begin to moan, not holding back any noises, moan, groan, gasp, whimpering, scream or otherwise. He arch my hips up into his mouth. He flicks his tongue softly over my clit. He teases even as I push.
When I pull back he dives in, sucking on my swollen clit, and slides two fingers into my pussy. His thick fingers begin to pump into my cunt, slowly, making sure I feel everything. My pussy is aching, pulsing around his fingers, finding my G-spot and curling into it. This is the reason he is here. I love how his fingers fit inside me, the way they move and stretch my tight cunt. I can feel my juices dripping down to my ass, pooling on the cold tile beneath me. I have always been able to get soaked, truly, honestly soaked, so this is no surprise. As he pumps, more and more spill out below me. His tongue begins to lap it up. It is a fool's errand to try and get it all, as the more he licks, the more I soak the floor and his mouth.
A third finger finds its way into my cunt and stretches it further. He is focused, centered, on his one single goal.
My hand finds the back of his head and my fingers grip his hair. I push up into his mouth. I am aching to cum, but the better angels of my brain stave me off. My moans are loud and echo in the empty rooms. There is an orgy of cries going on in the house right now.
His other hand, which is situated on my inner thigh finally shifts, and I nod in approval. He slides fourth finger briefly into my cunt, stretching me to the point of anguish, and my whimpers become weighted. As soon as it is in, it is gone.
I feel his gilded finger sliding against my ass. He continues to finger me, though his hand has slowed considerably. Dipping in and out, he is at once fucking my ass as well, slowly letting his finger dip inside me. He pumps me, deeper each time. I am filled as he fucks my ass and cunt together. As I feel him go deeper, I moan louder, my other foot planting squarely on his other shoulder.
I tense, trying to stave off my orgasm. I hold on as hard as I can. As I push harder, he knows I am close. His eyes look up while his mouth stays on me. I nod, leaning up to squeeze my hand in his hair tighter.
I tense, I feel it coming. I move my foot to his shoulder and push him. He pulls back, pulling his fingers from my cunt and ass. His mouth stays at my pussy and I cum, tensing and exploding.
I squirt, cumming in a fountain into his mouth and splashing down onto his chest. It cascades out of his mouth and runs down his neck. As he shifts I keep cumming, covering him, letting him lap and swallow and drown in my cum.
I drop my head back, simply laying in a pool of my cum. I am spent, empty. My legs collapse onto the tile, and when he tries to speak I shake my head. He has done his job, and I'm uninterested in anymore.

The New Girl Travels

2011-09-13T09:31:00.000-07:00

We sit in the airport, waiting patiently. He sits in a chair, a copy of the Journal casually marking his hands black, and I sit on the floor, kneeling in front of his legs. My head is perched on his knee, eyes closed and feeling sedated by the turmoil around us. This is one of those places where there is so much happening that no one notices us, and we are free to act as we normally would.
I feel him shift under my head and take little notice. He strokes my face softly and I rouse from what was at best a half-sleep. He hands me a small pouch and nods to the bathroom.
"Be a good girl."
I nod and stand, leaning down to give him the slightest of kisses on the lips. He allows this affection so rarely, that I tread lightly and feel buzzed from the slightest bit.
I sit in the stall in the bathroom, quietly opening the package, already certain about what I will find. As predicted, I pull out a pretty pink plug, and a short, remote-controlled vibrator. I stand, pulling up my skirt (he would never allow me to wear panties) and suck first the plug, sliding it into my ass, and then the vibrator, slipping it somewhat carelessly into my cunt.
I walk out to him and hand him the empty bag, curling back up at his feet and resting my head back onto his thigh.
We wait, his hand mindlessly stroking my hair. He boards, my step only a pace behind him at all times. With every step, I can feel the plug in my ass moving. Every time I twitch it brushes a new part of me, and I struggle to walk normally.
I smile at everyone but per his instructions, do not actually speak to anyone. I bat my eyelashes, nod, and remain quiet. To make sure, he will watch when I go to purchase my food or a drink. I almost always end up pointing, and often receive something I don't want simply out of frustration. But in his unwavering kindness, he will often take it back up and exchange it for me, knowing what I wanted in the first place.
He sit next to each other on the plane, I in the window, he in the aisle seat. He likes to be my barrier to the rest of the world, my obstacle and my guardian.
I lay my head against his arm, which is solidly on the armrest in the middle. Curling up, everything has slid into a comfortable place, and I am free to relax a bit. I feel my eyelids sliding shut, and I nuzzle more against his bicep.
It is not until we are up in the air that I am jolted awake. I let out something which lives between a yelp and a gasp, much to his enjoyment and the surprise of many other passengers. The other passengers look over at me with some interest and I wipe my eyes, caught off guard by their attention.
"You ok, baby?" He kisses my temple, and they watch a performance they don't even realize is for them.
"Yeah, I'm sorry, must have just been a nightmare."
"You must have been out." They all turn back to their magazines and books and I yawn softly.
I feel it again. I see his hand. He has the remote in his hand, thumb perched over the button. The vibrator inside me goes off in shocks. It buzzes once softly, and then pauses, again stronger and then pauses, once more, hard, making me clench my pussy around the small pink piece of plastic. I open my mouth and no sound comes out, but I squirm my hips slightly. My cunt tenses and my ass squeezes the plug. He watches me carefully for my reaction and I squeeze his forearm.
And then it is gone. I breathe deeply and sit back. He relaxes a bit as well, remote firmly set in his hand. I squirm a bit, trying to regain the feeling. I shift my hips forward and over a bit, straining and squeezing.
He sees me and places a hand on my thigh, squeezing. His thick, strong fingers find my joints and dig into pressure points and squeeze. I do not move an inch. I open my mouth slightly but nothing comes out. My eyes water from the incredible pain of what feels like his hand pulling my knee into several pieces.
He pulls his hand away and pain and relief flood back into my leg. I let out the tiniest squeak and choke a little on my own breath.
His lips find my ear. "You're my good girl. Stop pretending you don't know any better."
I nod, wiping the tears which have pooled and melted just under my bottom lashes.
I sit still, pouting, and he waits for it to be over. My shoulders relax just slightly and I feel the vibrator buzz inside me. I tense, squeezing around it and breath a little heavier, a little faster. My hand lays over his and my fingers lace between his from the back of his hand. He lets me, squeezing my fingers in his own as I tighten my cunt and roll my hips. I tighten my legs, and I can feel my ass tense again. I squeeze everything. My tits rise and fall faster, firmer.
The lights on the plane dim and the vibrator goes off. I let out a quick breath and lay my head against him again. He mumbles something and I sit up, letting him push up the arm rest. He reaches forward and grabs the blanket.
"Lay down, put your head on my lap so you can sleep."
I nod and curl up, letting him cover me with the blanket. I nuzzle my cheek against his cock through his pants and I can hear him smile.
"Good girl."
He lets me nap for a bit longer. Every time he shifts, I do as well. It startles me a little, forcing the plug in my ass to move, but I adjust and settle again and again. Flight attendants come by and offer this or that, but neither of us take much notice. Service stops slowly, and the plane quietly goes to sleep.
With a buzz, he wakes me. I startle up, rubbing my eyes.
"Yes, Sir?"
"When this goes on, your mouth goes on my cock." I nod, pulling the blanket up higher. I unzip and unbutton his pants, slowly, making sure he remains covered.
I lay my head back down and his hand goes to stroke his cock. It is moments before I feel him buzz. My hips flex slightly and my mouth finds the head of his cock. I softly begin to suck, my mouth already wet and wanting. I hear him release his breath softly.
The buzz stops and my pussy tightens again. I pull my mouth back, and make sure he remains covered.
As soon as I pull back, it goes on again and I dive back down into his lap, lowering my mouth deeper onto the shaft.
I am reckless and eager with my tongue, over the head and down the shaft. I am eager, and the hand on the back of my head says it is appreciated. My hips push forward, and my hand goes down to press my clit through my skirt.
The buzzer stops and I pulls back, covering his cock with my body as I press against him and pull my hand out from under the blanket. I look up at him and smile, and he just barely laughs at my eager smile.
We play this game for a while, with me bobbing up and down on his cock. He never gets close, never ever grinds, just enjoys as I immediately perk up, bouncing down onto his cock. There are moments of turbulence when I can't be certain that the vibrator is on, but consider it more important to stay on his cock. The last time I come up for air there is a thin string of drool dragging down from my lips to the head, which I immediately wipe away.
I kiss his chest softly as I see the flight attendant at the end of the aisle. He turns, seeing her approach with another round of drinks, and turns to look down at me.
"You'll make me cum before she gets to me, and I'll get you a Gingerale. Ok, baby?"
I nod, taking a deep breath, readying myself. The vibrator goes on and it's like a gunshot inside me. I am immediately on his cock, bobbing, knowing that people are waking up around us. He turns slightly and pulls the blanket over me, just enough to give me coverage while I suck. I swallow, my throat tensing around the head of his cock, squeezing.
The vibrator inside me is on high and I can barely focus as it is. My hand is between my legs, pressing on my clit through my skirt. Because I am not allowed to wear panties, I know there is a wet spot forming on the fabric. I don't care who sees or knows, I simply want to stop the ache which has been building in my clit for hours now.
There is a moment of more turbulence and I bounce on his cock, shoving it deeper into my mouth and throat. I choke a bit and pull back, but the hand on the back of my head pushes me back down. He wants to cum as badly as I want him to.
I prop up just slightly on my knees and my hand goes to the shaft of his cock, pumping it into my mouth. I can taste drops of pre cum on the back of my tongue just as they are already gone into my throat.
My hips buck forward against my hand and I can feel his breath change as his body presses against my face. I can hear the drink cart and I move furiously, pumping his cock in ragged jerks. My hand slides up and down, his cock covered in my spit already.
The cart approaches and his hand gets tighter, pushing my head down and then letting me up just to breath in deep gasps which I keep silent. He pushes me down again, even longer. I am struggling to breathe. My hands begin to tremble as I ache for oxygen. And I am let up. My eyes well with tears more and more each time as I struggle not to gag. He pushes me down one more time, his hand so tight on the back of my neck that I don't even bother to struggle, and he cums, shooting his load straight into my throat. I swallow wave after wave of his hot, sticky, thick cum, letting it wash over my tongue and down.
When I am sure he has no more, I pull back, trying to compose myself as I lift my head. The flight attendant is only a row or two behind us and it is just enough time to smooth my hair just slightly. I close his pants quickly and when she finally makes it to our row, I am wiping the mascara-thickened tears from my eyes.
I smile at the waitress. I know I must look like a mess, as she takes pity on me.
He orders me a Gingerale.

Girls Will Be Girls

2011-09-08T06:40:00.000-07:00

We are in the bathroom before she really begins to get nervous. We are in a small bathroom together with poor lighting in the back of a bar before she realizes how much this moment was unanticipated, and inspired by her drinking and her need to prove that she was sexual.
"Take down your pants and panties." I tell her.
She hesitates. We have simply come for a drink, to reminisce, and catch up on all the general life which we haven't been present for in the last six months. She is still seeing her boyfriend, but received a promotion at work. I have begun my second year of grad school and am about to begin my thesis.
"You're either in or you're out, take your pants down."
She nods and begins to undo her belt. Her hands tremble as she pulls open her belt, sliding it out of the loops one by one. The slower she goes, the more she is afraid, so I like that she is driving herself mad over her own actions.
"Are you nervous?" She immediately nods slightly, and tries to follow it with a laugh.
I do not change the faint smile on my lips. I'm sure this makes her no less than queasy.
I simply wait until the task is done. I wait as she unbuttons her jeans, brushing a single lock of light brown hair out of her face. I watch as she lowers the zipper. Her jeans and orange briefs come down in a slow sweep, brushing down her thighs to her knees.
She stands, waiting, getting embarrassed and then annoyed with my patience.
I see her start to fret and I look her in the eye, silent and steely.
"Rub your clit."
She is startled and stares at me, frozen in place.
"What's the problem? Do you not know where it is?"
She opens her mouth and pauses again.
"Rub your fucking clit."
She hesitates, looking down, but nods and places her hand tentatively between her legs.
It's not as if she had questions on what would happen in here. After a few drinks, the conversation had descended into the details of her sex life. The details were murky at first, but not hard to disentangle. She was dissatisfied by sex and lived with a notable lack of masturbation. I, on the other hand, cum constantly. I think if I came half as much as I did I could be fluent in another language in six months. But alas, I would rather fuck an Italian than speak to him.
Her fingers find her clit and begin to rub. She is painfully shy, her hand covering her pussy as she began to rub. I watch her. She watches me watch her. And I smile, looking again into her eyes before letting my eyes find her cunt again.
"Good girl. Now use two fingers to rub your clit. Up and down." She runs her fingers up and down her clit. "Slower." She nods. I wait for her eyes to shut but they never do. Her mouth simply opens just enough for me to begin hearing her breath. She is exposing herself for me in this tiny, bar bathroom, standing directly in front of the toilet, pants down around her knees.
"Now rub it in circles. Keep it slow." She nods, remaining focused on my face as I watch her hand start to circle, and her hips start to move. Her other hand clenches slightly into a tighter fist and relaxes.
Her hips move against her fingers as she begins to grind. I watch her fingers start to rub a little harder, a little faster.
"No. Slower. Press as hard as you like but keep it slow."
She nods, her fingers pressing harder and harder onto her poor clit.
"Ease off of it." She looks up at me, frustrated, but lets her fingers relax slightly. "Put two fingers into your pussy, slide them in slowly."
"Two?" She looks hesitant, but I nod, encouraging her with only the slightest movements.
With a breath she closes her eyes and slides in her fingers. Her mouth cracks open and she breaths in heavily as she starts to thrust. It is slow, but she can't angle herself well enough to get them in deep. Her other hand keeps moving on her clit.
"Harder. You're allowed to go as fast as you like."
She nods, taking the opportunity and pushing into her clit. Her eyes open and she pauses as she recognizes the stare I have on her. She tenses slightly, but then immediately begins working her fingers in rough circles over and over. She has never been watched before.
Her eyes do not waver as she fucks herself harder.
I step closer, slowly, shark-walking her in slow motion. I step within inches of her. Her eyes are rigid but her fingers keep moving faster and faster. When I am close enough to feel her heated breath, I slowly squat down, lowering myself until my face is right at her cunt. She is staring, waiting to see if I will do anything but I simply watch, coldly. Her breath catches a little more easily.
I watch her fingers slide in and out of her cunt. I watch her grow wetter. I watch her pump harder. I hear her juices squeezing her fingers, making those tell tale signs of a sloppy wet cunt.
I stand, watching her eyes move and her ignoring her fingers.
"Turn, face the wall."
She hobbled a bit, pants controlling the movement in her legs and making her less graceful than she wants. I am amazed that her only noises have been panting and a deep, uncareful breath.
As she faces the wall her push her into it and she makes the first vocal "ugh" noise as I do. I waste no time and take two fingers, shoving them in her cunt right along side her own. She is stretched and lets out a pained cry which dissolves into a whimper. I slide them in once, twice, three times to get them nice and damp before pulling them out and sliding one long finger into her ass, slowly.
She gasps, freezes, and it takes a breath in her ear of "keep going" to get her to relax, and let me fuck her where her boyfriend never will. Her ass tenses around my finger as she struggles to get used to the new feeling. Well, all of the new feelings.
"Fuck harder." I tell her, my tits pressed against her back, hers pressed into the wall.
She nods.
"Have you ever been fucked by a girl before?"
She shakes her head, eyes closed.
"Are you going to cum for me?"
She nods again, beginning to push her ass back into my finger, in time with her own thrusting. I can tell she's dripping into her pants. Juices are running down her thigh, pooling in her panties and soaking the folds of her jeans.
"Then make me proud."

It's 3AM. Do you know where your children are?

2011-09-01T06:27:00.000-07:00

When I am asleep, I still belong to him. My body is still in service, though my mind has been put to rest. The gift of sleep he gives me is only at his whim, and I accept this fact, and appreciate his generosity.
I sleep with my head on his chest, curled around the right side of his body. I sleep tucked between his arm and his torso, with my lips slightly open and my breath cascading out over his collarbones. I sleep with my leg hitched up and thrown over his. I sleep with his arm curling around me, his fingers gracing my hip and lower back. I sleep in scant panties - I don't know why, to be perfectly honest. I think it's just safer not to have my cunt directly on his thigh.
I have been asleep for what feels like days - so lost in a REM cycle that if I never return, I would simply hope people ransacked my house and took what they wanted.
And in that sleep I nuzzle closer.
Rousing just slightly, I turn over and he moves to spoon me. I tuck back into the space he has created with the curl of his body, and we fit spectacularly well. His chest and arms fit around me and melt, and my ass sides into the crux of his hips. Sleep finds me again.
I am lost so deeply that I barely feel his cock stir. I almost don't register its twitch against my ass.
My body does, though, and I push back against him, feeling more of his cock hardening against my ass, feeling it tease the split. It twitches again, growing harder as I push back and he pulls me closer.
He actively starts to run his cock up and down over my ass. I rouse slightly more, and my pussy starts to drip. When in his bed, I remain wet. It is a mixed of sheer will power, positive association, and the feeling of his skin against mine that keeps me in this state perpetually. I wake up each morning with my own dried cum on my thighs, often with fingers unconsciously buried in my slit.
He pushes again, sliding down a bit to slide his cock against the ridge where my thighs meet my ass. I stir slightly more, pushing closer to him and pulling him arm further around me.
I barely notice his cock stiffen and rise. The sounds of him pulling out a condom barely rouse me. I don't notice him sliding it on and pulling back and before I can adjust to pull his arm around me again, his hand is on my hip and he is sliding into my cunt from behind.
I gasp, pushing back. He grabs my hip, steadying my waking body and forces his cock all the way inside. My pussy spasms to adjust.
By the second full thrust I am startled. By the third I am awake. By the fourth I am fucking him back, pushing against his cock, shifting my hips to make it easier for him. Neither he nor I know it yet, but I will cum to this feeling for several days.
I can barely remember the dream I had or where I am, but I do know for all certainty that my cunt belongs to him. He continues to fuck me, pushing my hips down, pounding my aching cunt.
I squirm back against him, trying to get more of his cock inside me, trying to get my soaked pussy filled by his cock, but this isn't about me.
This hand slides under my body, finding my wet clit swollen and pulsing. He fucks me harder. He fucks me to his liking.
His fingers move up and down, side to side of my clit. It is so rough that I am assured that this is not for me, but simply enough to keep me wet, to keep my pussy pulsing around his cock.
I groan loudly, my first noise.
"Shut up" he mumbles, his hips unrelenting.
I moan again, louder.
"Shut up." He is louder, and his free hand covers me mouth and nose, pressing hard. I struggle to breathe but his hand is tight over my mouth.
I try and relax, try and take smaller breaths, but this fails quickly. When I begin to struggle, he moved one of his fingers, and I fill my lungs. He continued to thrust and I continue to push back harder against him.
He moves the finger back into place and I fight to breath again, his cock working my tightening cunt. His other fingers continue to move over my clit, pushing in painfully, and then teasing my sensitive clit. I fight to get more and more of him inside of me. I fight to ache from the force of his cock.

Flight 868 to LGA

2011-08-28T08:03:00.000-07:00

One of my favorite things in the world is making men hard. I love a hard, swollen, red cock. I love when I sit on a guy's lap and his cock presses against his pants, and into my soft ass. When he presses against me, makes me breathe harder as his cock runs pushes into the small of my back. It gets me wet, makes my clit swell. It makes me want to fuck immediately.
The other day when I was flying back from California there was a guy sitting across the aisle from me. He was slight with glasses, and a face which just blared out "submissive" to anyone who would read it.
I love tease and denial. I love the power of making someone want something so singularly that they can't focus, and then refusing to allow them to return to their lives. Making them strain without release, to want without receiving.
We had hours on the plane just feet apart, but he noticed me before I even got on the plane. When I see someone struggling so hard not to notice me, I make sure to entertain them. I make sure that I'm the only thing they will see.
I was wearing a short green dress, soft material which fell well with buttons up the front. She hem line, long neck line. And, of course, boots. When I saw him sitting there, nervous and excited as I approached, I was practically gleeful. I knew exactly how I was going to pass the time.
Getting to my seat I bent and twisted to stow my bag. I bent over, my ass just barely grazing his arm. I apologized for bumping him, and he nodded in warm reception.
When seated, I undid the top button of my dress, letting the pink and white of my bra skim over the top of my dress. I leaned over, fore arm pressing the soft flesh of my tits up, to get a better view out of his side of the plane.
I watched as he shifted in his seat, and imagined his cock starting to swell. I imagined it pushing against the zipper in his khakis - pants which are never so kind as to hide a cock. I imagined his shifting to hide it from me, feeling his humiliation swell right along with the head.
I sat back to give him a break, and when I put my head back against the seat, out of the corner of my eye I saw the tell-tale sign of his excitement. He reached down and grabbed the crotch of his pants, moving it back and forth into a comfortable position.
I smiled.
I nodded off for a time, letting him be, letting his cock relax and soften once again. It isn't much fun to just turn someone on and be done. It takes patience, and we had the next five hours to play, whether he liked it or not.
When I awoke I noticed my dress had slipped down a bit further, a full inch or so of the bright cotton pink cup exposed, and then shoulder having slipped down just enough to reveal a strap.
I shifted as I woke, clearing my throat, and rustling enough for him to know I was up. He immediately perked to attention, and openly turned his head to look.
I caught his eye just as I was shifting my clothes back into place, giving him another flash of cleavage and bra along with a long, full smile.
He notices, and immediately turns a soft shade of warm pink. I adjust my dress, and watch him shift again, sensing his frustration with his own body.
As he shifts in his seat, so do I, in slow serpentine rolls and subtle stretches. When someone asks to get by me and use the bathroom, I stand impossibly close to him, my ass right at eye level. When she leaves, I adjust the bag which is under the seat in front of me and bend over, letting him stare at my ass, letting him imagine grabbing it in his hands and fucking me right there on the plane. Pulling my dress up, panties down, and shoving his swollen cock into my pussy and ass.
But instead, I sit back down, unfucked.
I watch him shift his cock again, and place a tell-tale magazine over the bulge. He keeps shifting in his seat, and I take the opportunity to move more, to lean towards him to reach for something, to squirm in my seat, to smile at him more. He is blushing every now and then - I imagine when it twitches. He shifts more often, when it strains.
I finally make the move which I hope will move to him to action. I pull my foot up to my ass, leaning it against the arm rest and opening my legs. It's incredibly comfortable, and lets my dress slide back further and further so he can see my tanned thighs all the way to my ass. The inside of my thighs is, despite years of slaps and paddles, tender and vulnerable.
He's watching. I can feel his eyes caress my skin. I can sense his gaze as it moves over my inner thighs, and opens them further. His sight pulls back my dress and explores the inner folds of my panties, my cunt.
I watch it all happen in slow motion, as does he. He does not hide his erection any longer and shifts, lacking in both subtlety and dignity. I finally smile at him, a knowing smile which says "Thanks, you made my day."
He blushes red to purple, and adjusts one more time. He stares straight ahead, and I lose myself in a book, counting the long minutes before I get exactly what I want.
It takes three and a half minutes of internal debating and turning to see the bathroom line before he can't wait any longer.
He stands abruptly, taking advantage of the lack of line, and the long since absence of a drink cart to move to the bathroom, and I know exactly what happens once inside.
I imagine him pulling out his cock, and stroking it once, hard, just to relieve some of the built up pain and tension. From then it is a slower experience. He can take his time once his balls no longer squeeze themselves in want. He strokes his shaft slowly, teasingly, knowing that it can't go on for very long.
His other hand lowers to tighten around his balls, and he grunts he slightly in the back of his throat. He tugs them, rolling them just slightly in a flexing palm as his other hand squeezes the head of his swollen cock. Precum oozes out over his fingers as he squeezes. He pulls the shaft slowly, finishing with a final squeeze on the head. He can feel his own cock pulse in time with the heartbeat which rings on in his ears.
He continues to pump, remembering my thighs opening, blossoming like a flower shrouded in green cotton. He remembers girls he fucked in college, in high school, girls he wanted to fuck in middle school as he draws out his orgasm. It is a long flight, he has time to kill. He leans back against the sink and starts to stroke faster.
The seat belt sign pings on, and the captain gives mumbled announcements about possible turbulence ahead. I smile, knowing he is in there. I look back, making sure he is not returning, but he has time.
He thinks about pulling that green dress up farther, imagines the black lace panties I have underneath coming down, down to reveal a moist slit and wanton hole. He imagines plunging into that hole, and strokes faster, his precum spilling out to lacquer his hard cock, shiny and swollen in his hand.
He pumps harder as the plane trembles. As his feet become unsteady, he struggles to pump harder. He fights his own patience and jerks harder. He imagines fucking faster, slipping his cock into a dripping cunt. He fist grips and cum begins to swell higher in his balls.
He pumps faster as the plane jerks and he jerks forward with it, pulsing into his hand. He groans louder, pumping it faster. His cock gets harder in his hard, straining upward as he strokes faster. He strokes with the veracity he hasn't remembered having since his teen years. There is the urgency he hasn't needed since there were time limits to jerking off alone.
The seat belt sign rings again, and the turbulence gets more aggressive. He pumps harder, feeling himself swelling, growing warmer, harder, needing to cum all over this little fucking bathroom.
He groans again, louder, biting his lip as to not make anymore noise and arouse the suspicions of the flight attendants. He jerks forward again.
He steadiest himself one more time, biting his lip and drags his hand long and hard over his shaft, once, twice, three more time before he finally explodes, shooting him cum in jerks and waves over the wall of the tiny bathroom. It spills over his hand. It runs down, dripping slow and fast.
He zips up, breathing heavy, adjusting his glasses one more time before exiting the bathroom. He rejoins me in the seat across the aisle. I smile at him as he returns and the plane shakes once more, violently.
"Just in time."
He grunts in response.

The New Girls Fucks Up

2011-08-15T13:50:00.000-07:00

I sit in his car, coat on and ready. I wait in the passenger seat as the time ticks by, and the cars slowly pull away. A few people have noticed me, alone in a car in the parking garage, in the passenger seat, staring forward.
I arrived at 5:12, long enough to put on my coat at 5 sharp, walk to the elevator, wait, stand, and then remember where he parked this morning. I wait.
I wait as the car beside me pulls away and the woman tries to smile, recognizing me from my time in the office but not knowing enough to know that I will not turn and smile back.
I wait as I begin to get tired, minutes ticking on in a slow haul. I wait as it becomes 15 minutes, 30 minutes, an hour, two hours, and then two hours and thirty-four minutes that I have been waiting.
I begin to get bored. I play with the lighter, running my finger over the ridges that make up the circle. I run those fingers over my lips, dry from a day of lipstick and careless biting and nibbling.
Everything I touch in the car makes me think of his hands, stroking and touching them as he needs to. I run my hand over the steering wheel, thinking of how he carelessly and casually maneuvers around curves. I squeeze the top of the gearshift, imagining him revving an engine. While my fingers lay over the leather, his hand is large and consumes it.
I think of his hand cupping my pussy, how his long fingers curl all the way down and his palm presses against me. Even over my jeans it makes me feel possessed by him. I can feel myself getting wet just by the thought of it. And when his fingers enter me, I could be mindless I am so taken.
I begin to squirm in my seat after two hours and thirty-four minutes of being such a good girl. I press my legs together to ease some of the pressure.
I sit in the car and look around, trying my best to not look conspicuous. I want to find anything that will take my mind off of what is slowing becoming a throb between my legs. I am so, so wet, and my clit is achingly swollen.
I am not proud but I simply wait, sit for him in the car, silent and attentive.
And then it happens. I look around. there is no one in the garage, save a few cars. I look again at the time and only a few minutes have ticked by. It will be hours before I find any relief, and even then I will never be sated. I am an aching cunt - desperate and constantly in need of fingers, a tongue, a vibrator, a hairbrush handle, a fist, a swollen, stunning, thick cock.
I have already crossed a divide between good and absolutely fucking useless. I have already come too far. I have checked around to see if there was anyone and when I saw that I was blissfully alone, I let my hand find itself underneath my skirt in the front seat of the car.
But of course this cannot end here. This simply cannot be the end of my relief, and I rub myself. My underwear still sit in his office, so it is immediately skin on skin. Immediately, I feel my fingers rubbing my clit to the point of pain - matching ache for ache the need I have to touch myself, to cum, to find relief.
I am so wet, I have already begun to pool between my legs and drip onto the back of my skirt. Before my hand even came close to my hem, I was already a foregone conclusion.
As soon as they are there, I have been lost entirely. I begin to rub my clit, hard and then soft to lengthen my enjoyment. I rub in circles, dainty circles which roll my clit back and forth. I slide them up and down, one finger on either side of my clit, feeling how much it begs to be touched and loved and kissed.
And then they are inside me. I slide my hand down and push them inside my cunt. My entire hand is slicked with my juices, and as soon as two fingers are all the way inside me, I pull them out and lick my hand clean. Once every drop has been tasted, I slide my hand back down and push those two fingers back inside, shoving them deep into my cunt. I curl them inside me and push my hips forward, watching more. I am greedy.
I spread my legs, feeling more and more reckless. I pull my skirt back and open my legs wide, leaning back a little. My other hand fingers my clit and proceeds to rub slowly, and then furiously, as I meet my own hips thrust for thrust. Each time I bury them deeper I begin to whimper. There seems nothing I won't do to let myself explode right now.
My fingers scrape back and forth over my clit - finger pad to one side and nail as it moves back. I have no problem scraping myself raw right now. I continue to rub as I fuck myself faster. I angle downward and plant one heeled foot onto the dashboard, spreading myself wider for another finger.
My eyes slide shut as I push harder against my cunt. I can want nothing but more and more and more. As I squeeze my eyes shut I scream, cumming against my own hand. I feel buckets of cum pour out of me, onto my hands, fingers, and the seat below me. I am spent. I am exhausted.
I struggle to clean myself up - to calm down, pull my skirt back down, and furtively look around against to see what I most fear. He is walking towards the car. I breathe faster, hating myself for my own debauchery. I pull everything back into place, and try and calm my heart slowly.
He opens the car door and I startle just slightly. He sits down, pulling his briefcase in the back seat. He pauses, and I know he knows. He looks at me very slowly, his blue eyes steeled.
"Were you a good girl for me?"
My bottom lip trembles and I open my mouth to answer.
It is only those brief seconds of the heaviest pause before I begin to cry, and shake my head.
"Give me your hand, baby."
I do and he slowly, patiently licks my fingers. His tongue rolls over the pads, the nail, the knuckle and I stir again, and am all the more angry at myself for it.
"Did you think I would be mean and not let you cum again?"
"No, Sir, I just couldn't help myself."
He sighs, his disappointment is potent. I am nothing short of terrified. I am terrified that he will inflict irreparable damage on my flesh and ego. I fear more that he will simply tell me to get out of the car, and never look back as he finds a more suitable candidate for his tutelage.
He silently steps from the car and my breath catches, holding painfully in my tightened chest. I feel as if I am falling. He walks around the car and opens my door, extending a hand which I take. I step from the car as well and he removes my jacket, placing it on the passenger seat before closing the door.
He guides me to the back of the car and leans me over the trunk. I tremble. I notice droplets of water falling in soft springs onto the trunk and it is only then that I realize that I am crying.
He pulls my skirt up, leaning on the small of my back, his arm pulling my hips against his chest. And then I feel his hand. He is showing ruthless pleasure in his lack of mercy. His hand, fist, full arm crash down over and over and over on my ass. He strikes me ten times solidly, and I am thankful for the car to hold me up.
He pauses and I weep, arms folded underneath my wet face. He steps back and I know it will only get worse before it gets better. I hear fabric barely breaking behind my own gasps and whimpers.
I feel it, breaking over my ass, and curling around my hip in a tight line which burns my flesh. He has taken off his belt. I stiffen after the first one, trying to lock my knees. It hit so firmly, cracked over my flesh so loudly, that it now echoes through the parking garage. Only a few cars remain, and there is no one to come with concern.
"Take off your skirt and blouse."
I nod, removing them slowly, precisely. I stand in only heels and bend, once again, over the back of the car. He comes down again, hard, his belt licking my lower back and making my cry out. He comes down again, right on the crest of my ass, and again even lower.
Every time he strikes me, it feels as if I've been cut, sliced apart. My legs become shakier and my cries before more and more drowned in my tears. I shift my head to the side and see that he is working himself out of breath he is beating me so hard. I have forgotten bruises, and simply wish to be able to stand again.
And yet, every time he strikes me, I feel myself growing more and more into his good girl. I will not forget such a beating.
My legs begin to move from trembling to shaking. Every slap sends me squirming. I have lost count at how many have come down and am only in my own fog.
"Sir..." I choke out quietly. He does not stop. "Please, Sir..." He continues, leaving my skin raised in red welts and cracking in places where it can no longer hold together. "Please, Daddy, no more." I finally say loud enough for him to hear and he stops. He does not freeze, but calmly regains his posture and walks over to his broken, remorseful girl.
He leans over my crippled body, and it is the only thing preventing me from crumpling on the ground. "You're not going to fuck yourself when you know I don't allow it anymore, are you?"
I shake my head and sniffle.
"You're my good girl, aren't you?"
I nod and begin to collapse a bit, my legs finally giving out. He catches me.
He opens the back door and I lay inside, caked in blood and sweat, wet with tears. He covers me with his suit jacket, softly stroking the skin of my ankle with his long fingers. "You're a good girl. You made me proud today."
I touch the lashes as we drive, feeling where I am bleeding, learning where I will bruise, and each spike of pain sends a shiver down my spine.

The New Girl at Work

2011-08-10T15:27:00.000-07:00

I wait all day for him to beckon me over. He instructed me not to move, for my feet to remain flat on the floor and my hands under the desk, but not on my cunt. I sit just outside his office, waiting. Papers are stacked neatly before me. The only movements I have made were to shift when my ass was becoming numb, and to lean forward only to realize I had no interest in the papers before me. At noon he ordered me a pasta salad and himself a sandwich. I offered to order lunch but he looked at me and smirked.
When the food came he sat beside me, lifting forkfuls into my mouth until I nodded that I was full. I thanked him for such kindness and went back to simply sitting and waiting.
My mind began to run tracks. It spiraled in circles to keep me busy. Thinking, guessing, getting distracted over nothing, counting angles, cracks, corners, and divots.
I wear a tight blouse. When I came in that morning, I stood in his office. He had me lift my skirt to my waist and take off my panties in the center of his office. I placed them on his desk. I was embarrassed that they were purple with little silver stars, but he only smiled, almost affectionately. I pulled my skirt back down and he had me remove my blouse. I took off my bra, placing it on top of my underwear on the corner of his desk.
For the first time since I entered, he stood, erection clearly outlined in his pants. He strokes it casually as he walks towards me and places the longest of kisses on my throat.
That kiss will burn for the rest of the day.
I put my blouse back on, nipples clearly erect through the thin purple cotton of the shirt. There is no hiding my arousal. I can smell my cunt simply standing there.
He gives me his rigid instructions and I simply sit just outside his office, listening to him make deals and take phone calls.
Every time he walks out I look up at him and smile. At first, my smiles betrayed me with their expectation. He would look down at me each time and smile back, sometimes even letting his fingers slide across my desk, but he never stopped. He would give his other employees instructions, orders, commands, but I only received those brief smiles.
The other women in the office glare at me with disdain. They watch as I remain motionless, save head turns and slight leans. They are displeased with my ease at his directions. Whereas his commands to them are cold and professional, our smiles are soft, and less than furtive. I swell at being his favorite girl and it is the only thought I need to cum at night or grow damp right there in the office.
I would watch him as he gave orders, the grey trousers tenting slightly, the gleam off of his cufflinks making me stir in my seat.
By 11, though, my smiles were simply to let him know that if this was his order, I was pleased to fulfill it. Itches remain ignored, coughs uncovered. I fight with a lock of hair which has fallen callously into my eyes.
From my desk, I could lean my head slightly and watch him, but he never took notice of me. At 11:54 he winked at me and I felt my whole body flush and my cunt grow wet. At 1:28 he saw me watching him. I licked my lips and he smiled before turning away.
And at 4:27 he came out of his office and stood next to me. He took my hand and lifted it front the desk, helping me to a stand.
He leads me into his office and closes the door, not letting go of my hand as he silently walks me around to his desk. I stand, hips just barely grazing the edge, and he returns to sit in his chair, hands resting on my hips. He lifts my skirt slowly, and I feel his breath on my ass. There are still bruises from where I displeased him yesterday.
"You've tried to be a good girl for me all day, haven't you?"
"Yes, Sir." My arms rest at my sides, but my fingers tremble with the electricity which has no other escape.
"You learned your lesson from yesterday, haven't you?"
I nod quickly, almost over zealously. Yesterday I came in after a long day dream about nothing, and was not wet to his satisfaction. My ass paid the price.
"Do you remember my instructions this morning?"
I nod, curling my fingers into my hands. "Yes, Sir."
"Tell me, baby."
"Keep my hands on the desk and my feet on the floor."
His hand comes down in a sharp pain on my ass. "And?"
I gasp, swallow, and tremble all the more. "And stay wet for you, Sir."
"Good girl." He slowly pushes me down until my chest meets the desk. He opens my legs slowly, and I step them out inch by inch.
I try and keep my breath steady as my heart starts to pound. I have tried to be such a good girl for him - I have tried to make him so proud of his girl.
When my legs are spread I hear him smile. He can see my cunt glisten. His fingers trail my thighs, delicately, softly, lovingly. I have made him proud, and it means the world to me.
He leans forward and begins to lick my wet clit. I immediately moan louder than I anticipated, pushing back against him. He lets me as he begins to lap at my soaked cunt, his tongue running up and down over my lips, sliding between them to my clit.
I push back hard against his face, begging over and over again for more and more. I ache against his tongue I am so wet. He begins to tease, the more I grind, pulling his tongue back and holding my thighs in place.
I struggle a little and he sits back.
"I thought you were my good little girl?"
"I'm sorry, Sir, I didn't mean to, it was a stupid reaction."
"I don't believe you're sorry, baby."
His hand lands on my ass so hard I slam against his desk. I know there will be bruises. I will wear them with competing pride and shame.
"Please, Sir. Please forgive me for being such a greedy little cunt." He hits me again. "I beg you, Sir, please forgive me for being such a wanton whore in front of your face, trying to get more of your tongue. I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry."
He spreads my thighs more with his hands and goes back to sucking on my clit. I cry out in a noise indistinguishable from when he hit me. I have, once again, learned my lesson and refuse to move. His hands pulls back and only graze my thighs in a test of my will and want. I want him more. I want to be a good girl.
He is drowning in my cum as it drips down his tongue. He licks only hard enough to make me desperate. And though I am aching for more of his tongue, he knows it will only make me long for his cock.
It takes everything inside me not to move backwards and he rewards me with more of his tongue. I know his chin, his lips are covered with my juices. I boldly know how much he loves to taste me by the way he devours me. He leans back and I gasp, but refuse to whimper. I don't want to disappoint him with my greed.
He slides two fingers into my cunt, juices dripping down my thighs. I moan again, trying not to buck against him as his thick, longer fingers begin to pound my cunt without mercy.
"You like being my good little girl, right?"
"Yes, Sir."
"You like how much attention I pay to you and your pretty pussy, right?"
I scream a little louder as I affirm, "Yes, Sir."
I want more - tears begin to well in my eyes as he stretches my eager slit. "You want to make me proud, right baby?"
"Yes, please, Sir, please." I beg, my face down on the desk, my knees buckling and my nails digging into the papers on his desk.
"Then come for me, baby. Be a good girl for me and cum."
I scream, not caring who can hear. I cum on his fingers, my pussy squeezing and pulsing around them, cum dripping down his forearm to his beautiful French cuffs and sparkling cufflinks.
His fingers stay inside me as my body twitches with tiny aftershocks. His other hand rubs the small of my back softly. My breathing is shallow and ineffective, and I continue to tremble.
"Good girl. You've been a good girl." I nod, laying my head down on the desk. His hand slides from my cunt. "Turn around, baby." I slowly stand and turn, my knees almost buckling underneath me. I lean back against the desk, skirt still up around my waist. He holds his fingers to my lips and I lick them clean for him.
"Baby, I want you to go sit at your desk until 5:00. Put on your coat and sit in my car until I get there."
He may be hours before he comes, but I will wait. I will be his good girl.

Smells Like Team Spirit

2011-07-09T07:58:00.000-07:00

I'm the new girl on the team. Squad. I don't even know what to call it yet. I've heard things about these girls, and when they walk by me in the locker room I can believe every single thing.
I'm on the bench in my uniform, lacing my sneakers like I've been told. I'm trying to hold it together while they all walk in and surround me. Four seniors and I'm the new prey. As I stare into the tongue of my shoe so intensely you would expect it to begin wagging, they cross their arms. One by one they interlace their tight, muscled arms and drop them onto their chest. I can't breathe.
I heard with one girl they took her shoes and tied them to the top of the flag pole. Then they made her climb up the pole to get them.
They've been doing this every year since they were sophomores on the team. They would destroy the freshmen girls on the team, without shame or pity or regret. The girl last year had naked pictures of herself which she had sent to her boyfriend plastered all over the school. I knew what I was getting into when I joined.
"You're taking your time with that shoe. Are you stupid or something?"
I shook my head and placed my foot square on the floor, keeping my gaze lowered.
"You know why we're here, don't you?"
I nodded, tears welling up in my eyes, my lashes damming them up only for so long.
"And you're afraid, aren't you, Princess?"
I nodded again. Better to just be honest with them, and realistic about my fate.
"You're a pathetic little cunt, aren't you?"
I nodded yet again. I could hear their perfect pink lips sliding over their capped teeth as they all smiled. The other girls had been work in previous years, trying to break something that refused to crack. This was just going to be pure fun.
No work, all icing.
"Get on your knees." I lowered myself swiftly onto the floor, never lifting my gaze. The thick polyester of the uniform itched. It felt claustrophobic to wear, tight on my chest in a way that made me want to stop breathing for comfort.
I can hear them talking, debating in hushed tones. I hear lockers open and laughter begin and I wonder what I'm in for.
The oldest one grabs me by the throat and pulls me to my feet, her fingers pressing tightly, cutting off my air and blood. I cough a little, sputtering onto her arm, which she barely notices. If I didn't think she was a bitch before...
I look up into her eyes and she lets go of my throat only to slap me across the face, her nails curling a bit to leave red claw marks behind. I gasp a little, not even reach up to feel if I'm bleeding. I will simply see the red droplets on my crisp white uniform later and have to explain them away.
"Don't fucking look at me. You don't deserve it. Eyes down, brat."
My eyes hit the floor and another one grabs my arms, pulling them behind. She has full tits and long hair in a ponytail which is perched on the back of her head in a purple ribbon. My arms are pressing into her tits, and I can feel her hips press into my ass, which is pushing back, away from the older blond one.
Then they begin. Each one comes up and one by one they begin to slap, spit, and pull my hair. As the one with soft tits holds me back, they tell me to open my mouth and spit. They pull my hair to the side and bite my neck so hard I scream. They pull up my shirt and slap my tits back and forth, pinching the nipples until they're red and swollen. And finally when they've gone through the line-up, the blond one comes back and reaches underneath my skirt. Her hand slides up between my legs and pushes my panties out of the way in the most delicate move she's made yet. And just as delicate as she was in that moment, she is just as rough in the next. She shoves her fingers into my cunt roughly, nails scraping as she enters me. I whimper.
"Aww, the little bitch is fucking wet. What a fucking brat, she's actually enjoying this."
They all smile. I can feel it.
"Lets put her to good use, ladies."
The one behind me lets go of my arms and I collapse a bit, blood rushing back to where there was numbness. they push me onto all fours on the bench and the blond sits in front of me, shoving two fingers into my mouth. "Suck" she says firmly, without a hint of inhibition. I do as she says, licking and sucking those fingers as if it were going to get me out of this, but I know better.
I feel a hand on my forehead lifting up my head and I can only glance down and see someone put a thick purple strap-on in the blonde's outstretched hand. The blonde's fingers hold down my jaw and she slowly slides it into my mouth. "Suck it, Princess." Her voice is firm and I do, with all my effort and energy.
"Good girl. You're such a good girl for me, aren't you?" I nod, eagerly showing her how deep I can take it, how much I can lap, as wetness pools at the corner of my mouth and begins to run down my chin.
I feel my skirt being pushed up. Someone pushes open my knees, which can barely balance on the hard, wooden bench already. I struggle to focus on the cock in my mouth while they push and pull me from behind. She sees me waiver and my eyes falter.
"Stay with me, Princess."
I stare at her and then look down again, focusing on the hard rubber in my mouth. I suck it, lips running up and down over the purple sparkles.
And then I feel it. They pull down my panties and one of the other girls, thick strap on tied between her legs, begins to fuck me. Hard. She pushes in without hesitation, and I gasp. She holds onto my hips to steady both of us, her fingers gripping and squeezing and holding tightly. She is fucking me ruthlessly, pounding my tight, virgin cunt. The blond keeps telling me to stay with her, to ignore the wetness, the searing, tearing of my slit. I want to call them cunts and bitches and fucking pieces of shit, but I know they would only fuck harder, so I simply choke on the cock in my mouth.
The blond grabs my hair in one hand and pulls my head back. "If you can cum for me, I'll let you go, Princess." I nod, focusing on the cock in my pussy. She pulls the one from my mouth and I only now realize how little I've been breathing. I gasp for full breaths, desperate to expand my lungs.
She stands in front of my, pulling up her skirt and pulling down her panties and shoves her cunt in my face. I lick, covering my face with her wetness. I ache to lick her better, harder, more. I run my tongue up and down her clit, sucking with everything I have left as I am pounded from behind.
I strain against both of them, pushing more, twisting and bobbing back and fourth as I whimper into her pussy. I ache and strain and pull and push. The blond puts a hand on the back of my head and pulls me into her cunt harder. I lick as she pushes against my face. I can feel her cum dripping down my chin as I tighten my pussy. The blond makes a gesture and another girl comes over and begins to rub my clit.
This is enough for me. I buck wildly, my head held tight by the blond, and cum in front of them, a cock shoved all the way inside me. I side it wildly, bucking and screaming and panting and begging.
When I am finished I remain on all fours, breathing heavily. The blond roughs up my hair a little, smiling and pulling her skirt back down. She lifts my chin up and I look up at her. My mouth is covered in her cum, and I breathe heavily in her hand.
"Good girl. You're going to be fine."

I think she likes me

2011-06-09T06:29:00.000-07:00

I think I have a gorgeous cunt. I really do. I think it's beautiful. My clit is larger than most, and is far too often swollen even larger, making sure I can feel it when I walk. I get sopping wet sometimes, and love the pressure on my clit to the point that I'm perfectly comfortable squeezing my legs together.
One thing I love to do, and do quite often, is settle in to fuck myself. I use it as a treat, I use it as a punishment, I use it as a distraction. Long story short: I love pleasure as much as everyone else. And I don't express much self-control over it.
I also love fucking myself in front of people. I like to show off, what can I say?
My favorite is to fuck myself in front of a long haired femme top. Mostly because she's never stunned like a lot of men or butches. She licks her lips, she shifts in her chair, which is the only way I know she likes what she sees.
She has my ankles tied back, legs spread, knees in the air. She starts with my arms tied down as well, leaning in to blow on my clit softly. I whimper, but she is relentless. Her eyes scan over me. She smiles as I whimper a little harder, starting to whine. I could fight harder to keep my mouth shut, but she's not going to give me even the relief of a slap across my pussy. She's just going to smile, laugh at me a little.
She leans in, shifting her glasses snugly on her nose, and leans over, and I think she's going to blow on my swollen, over ripe clit but she doesn't. She simply waits. Slowly, her fingers work the knots on the rope around my wrist. I have one hand free, but I'm too nervous to move my hand.
She leans back, lighting a cigarette. "Touch yourself, pretty girl."
I nod, immediately putting two fingers on my clit, rubbing it back and forth up and down. I am wet. I can feel it dripping down, over my ass. I am too wet and am having trouble getting the rough friction I want desperately right now. I put my hand to my tongue, licking my fingers clean, and immediately put them to my clit.
She nods approvingly as my fingers move roughly over my clit. I moan louder, breathing faster, harder. My hips move against my fingers, grinding, circling. She takes my hand, pulling it to my side and tying it back down where it was. I cry out, and I almost feel tears start to well. I struggle not to call her names.
"Please, please, please" I whisper over and over. She runs her hands over my inner thighs and goosebumps perk up where her hands have been. My pussy aches. I am desperate for her fingers.
"I want to see how wet you are, pretty girl." I fight back a gleeful smile. Her fingers slide inside me with ease and she begins to fuck. I gasp, I writhe, I arch against her as she slides in a third finger and eventually a fourth. My cunt hurts, stretched wide open. I feel like her fingers are ripping me apart and I beg her not to stop.
"You're such a good girl for me." I nod, whimpering out a thank you. "You want me to stop?" I shake my head, crying out in amorphous sobs. "You're going to take it for me, then."
I nod and she lets my hand go again. Immediately it is on my clit, raking nails over my cunt, trying desperately to get enough friction to cum. My hips push against her fingers, pushing harder and harder, feeling her deeper inside me. Her fingers are stretching me. I ache.
I tense around her and cry out, cumming hard over her fingers and hand. With my arm and legs still tied back I can't tense and simply cry out louder, tense my cunt harder. I cum with everything I have, until I almost can't breathe.
I tremble as she unties me, curling onto her lap and stroking my hair.

Class: Part 1

2011-05-26T07:26:00.000-07:00

We've crossed paths numerous times at this point. We smile, and have short conversations which are mundane enough to be re-had once or twice a week. But neither of us is there for the conversation. But there's that moment of electricity that runs right to your clit.
She's my height, with amazing curves. Her eyes are heavily lined, and stun the delicacy of the rest of her features. Her voice is rich without being heavy, and until I met her, I had a stark distaste for German accents.
I hate the class I'm sitting in right now. It takes all my focus, all my will to stay awake, and I don't even bother trying to feel engaged. I stopped taking notes weeks ago, and now create lists and elaborate doodles. I have tricks to keep myself awake. I chew epic wads of gum, the more potent the better. I suck on hard candy and wait for the faintest rush of sugar, which rarely comes anymore. I even scratch and pinch the soft tissue between my fingers and on my wrists and inner thighs hoping that the pain will perk up my energy. I stop midway through every class and get up to walk to the bathroom. I take a few minutes, getting a sip of water, meandering down the hall.
Each time I wander I pass the one class which has an all glass front, save the metal beams holding the floor-to-ceiling panes. The room is a small classroom, with a central table and 15 or so chairs surrounding it. I have one class a week in that room and have to sit on the side which keeps my back to the window or else I would never be able to concentrate.
As I walk by the window I see her in there, watching the window, just as distracted as I would be. I see her eyes dart to me and a smile start to creep onto her face. She fights her expressions, struggling to go unnoticed. Her black-lined eyes stare, narrow, and smile all on their own. Her face is turned towards the professor, but she can't stop glancing.
She's fucking gorgeous. More femme than I ever go for, but she looks like she would take on a fist fight as quickly as I would.
I have now stopped walking, and slowly my body towards the window. As soon as I smile at her, I know I have her. She can't stop looking up at me.
I tilt my head slightly and wink. She is struggling not to giggle, nervous.
I motion for her to follow me and she hesitates. Her cheeks are starting to burn. I shrug, and begin to turn away when I see her quietly stand, nudging her chair back. I begin walking towards the bathroom. It's not only late, but between when classes begin and end so it'll be empty. I hear her close behind, her steps moving faster to catch up with me.
By the time I get to the bathroom she is right behind me. We walk in and the door closes and it is a torrent of mouths. I shove her against the door, my lips on hers, her tongue between my lips, my hand tight in her hair. The kisses are wet, furious. My pussy is warm, empty.
Her hands are on my hips, and they grip tightly, pulling my hips against hers. As hard as I have pushed her into the door she shoves up against the wall. Her hands move under the shirt, kneading my tits hard. I hope they bruise. The way her fingers pull and squeeze my nipples, I know she is not intending to give me pleasure so much as leave her mark on me.
I buck my hips against her hard, just once and she pulls off my mouth to groan. I take the opportunity and move my mouth to the crook of her shoulder. I begin by sucking and move to biting quickly. We only have a few minutes before we both have to get back. I suck on her neck, teeth sinking in a little deeper each time. She grabs my hips again and pushing back against me, pinning me into the wall.
My panties are soaked, and my clit is starting to ache. I want her mouth on it.
My hand finally moves between her legs, working her cunt through her jeans. I can already feel how damp she in through the thick fabric. She grinds into my hand and pushes up my shirt to put her mouth on my nipples.
I work her pussy hard, the base of my hand grinding, feeling her pumping against me. She begins to moan, tongue rolling over my nipple as she opens her mouth to growl. My hands move to unbutton her pants, yanking them down just slightly.
Realizing she has lost the upper hand she grabs my hair, pulling me to the sink. She bents me over and pulls up my skirt. I step my legs open and she puts her hand between my legs, pushing my underwear aside to rub my clit. I moan loudly and push against her hand.
Her fingers find my pussy and push inside with ease. Her hand goes to my hair and she pulls my head back, forcing me to arch my back as she fucks me harder and harder. I cry out a little louder and she growl to shut up.
She lets go of my hair and shoves a hand inside her jeans, working her own clit furiously. As she continues to work my cunt I feel her bucking against my ass, pushing her own fingers harder against her clit.
I grind harder against her, pushing back as hard as I can. I feel myself tense around her fingers, whimpering. She feels it too, and pulls her fingers out. I turn, angry, and she grabs my hair again. I stand and she tugs on my hair, pulling me into the stall. She shoves me against the wall and pulls my skirt up, getting down on her knees. I brace my other leg against the wall and her mouth goes to my cunt, sucking on my clit.
I groan, gripping her hair to pull her mouth harder against me. My hand wraps around the back of her head, and I feel tongue rolling over my clit, back and forth, flicking it harder each time. I grind against her face and her hand buries itself back in her pussy. She fucks herself hard, pushing against her own hand as her mouth moves on my clit. She is sucking, nibbling, and I pull her harder into my cunt. I push against her mouth.
While one hand is in her cunt, her other moves to finger me hard, three fingers pounding inside of me. I feel my cunt tighten around her fingers and I am desperate to cum. I want to cum all over her mouth. Her fingers pound as she sucks harder on my clit.
I cum, hard, pulling her harder into my cunt, my cum dripping down over her face, into her mouth and down her chin. She sucks on my pussy, licking as I cum against her. I cry out, grinding and moaning and gasping.
She shrinks back, gasping. She stands, wiping her mouth and pulling her hand out of her pants. I take her hand, leaning down to suck her fingers clean. She is breathless and we still don't speak, preferring silence and heavy breathing and palpitating hearts.
I pull my skirt down. I kiss her one more time. I go back to class flushed.

I can't tell you how many times I've jerked off to this one.

2011-02-05T16:07:00.000-08:00

Four men sit at a small card table. One is my owner, and the three others are friends he can win a great deal of money from. They are gentlemen, drinking whiskey, smoking cigars, sleeves of their button-up shirts rolled up and ties loosened. It is Friday, they have all been paid, and they all seek to win or lose some of it tonight.
I am kneeling on a pillow on the floor next to my owner, silent. I wear a collar around my neck and a chain hangs from the collar. I notice it every time I move, and the slightly sound of the links moving against each other is not something he wants to hear, meaning I stay as frozen as I can. He strokes my head periodically, and I resist the impulse to lean into his hand. It is an absent-minded gesture, and if he hear the clinking, he will notice the affection that the curling of his fingers around my ears feels like. Now and then he lets his hand drop over my face and I kiss his thumb, his palm, the tips of his fingers, knowing how this makes him smile. Other than those small tightening of my lips, forming a kiss and then melting away, I am a statue. I am on my knees, and he has let me sit on my feet and I know what this means. This means he doesn't want me to squirm, to request comfort. I wait.
And in those moments where the drinks are empty, or someone is hungry, I come alive. He tightens his hand over my chain and tugs me up a little. I nod and ask each man if he would like a refill. They are all polite, saying 'thank you' or 'no thank you' in response. I walk off to refill each glass, returning and passing them out, walking slowly around the table and attending to the needs of each player. Once everyone's needs are met, I walk back next to my owner, standing beside him. For my good service, he takes my chin and pulls my face down to meet him, kissing me on the lips. This makes me smile.
I wear a small dress, my ass peeking out from underneath the hem. I have cuffs on my hands, waiting for use like a gun in the first act of a play. My feet are bare, and I am required to walk only on my toes as I serve them. I wobble sometimes, but steady myself each time.
"What was my request, other than your devoted service, while you are at this table?" He says, his lips inches from mine and wet from my tongue.
"To remain wet, Sir."
"Good girl, stand and spread your legs."
I do, my back going straight and sucking in my breath a little as I open my legs, still balanced on my toes. His fingers do not even pretend to tease my inner thighs, as they simply seek to answer: have I done my job?
To his delight and mine, I am still wet, my clit is still swollen. His fingers slowly rub and press over my clit, making my strained thighs tremble. I bite my lip, letting a quiet moan pour out of my mouth.
"Good girl." He stops, pulling the chain for me to bend, and shoving his fingers in my mouth to clean. I suck them eagerly. He pulls his fingers from my lips and kisses me once more. He turns back to the game, pointing to the pillow.
I sit back down, leaning on his leg and chair.
I drift off in my mind, waiting for my cue to move again. I float, trying to remain poised and quiet as I serve.
I hear them laugh and my ears click back to the conversation. "That's fair." He looks down to me, lifting my head, his hand on my chin, pointing across the table with his other hand to a friend in a blue, striped tie. "He's having a bit of a rough game. Go make his night a little better." I nod, standing. He grabs my chain and I stumble a step back. "Crawl."
I get down on my hands and knees, crawling around the table and then underneath, opening his pants. I pull out his cock and begin to stroke it, slowly moving my hand up and down the shaft. I squeeze softly and feel him shift towards me.
I open my mouth and place my lips around his head, licking the slit and just wetting his cock with my mouth. He hear him groan, and can't imagine this will actually improve him game. I wonder if my owner is simply trying to end the game while he is doing well. I continue to lower my mouth, sliding down and lifting back up. Each time I bob on his cock I bring him deeper into my mouth. His hands find the back of my head and squeeze. He has already folded this hand. I smile at my owner's ingenuity. He must have a good hand.
I suck, my hands moving to his balls, teasing them and pulling the skin. He moves up towards my mouth and I suck eagerly, lost in his cock until I hear my owner's voice, and his hands pull the chips into his pile.
"Turn, lets watch her." I lean up a little, but he holds my head down on his cock. He shifts in his chair and my mouth does not leave his cock as he shifts and I shuffle over on my knees. I hear them comment on what a good girl he has, and I know he is swollen with pride. Among other things.
My owner stands, walking over and pulling my hair back. I suck, letting him thrust softly into my mouth. "Let him use your mouth, but your lips are mine."
He pulls his cock out of my mouth and I kneel, opening my mouth as wide as I can and sticking out my tongue. He comes back, rubbing the tip of his cock on my tongue, stroking his cock into my mouth. I hold my arms behind my back, trying to look up at him from my knees. Spit drips from my mouth, making a bee-line for the floor in front of my knees.
My owner holds my hair, keeping my face steady while his friend slaps his cock on my outstretched tongue. My owner nods to another one of his friends to come over. They whisper, and he leaves and returns with a roll of tape. They roughly fold my arms behind me, hands holding elbows, and tape my forearms together, letting me know that there will be nothing but misery when they pull the tape off. Spit continues to drip off my tongue as precum begins to drip onto it.
They stand me up, and I lift to my toes. My owner hands my leash off to one of his other friends. "Be my guest," he says.
His friend leads me a few steps and they gather the glasses, coated in icy water and still full of ice and place them in either hand. My short fingers struggle to hold multiple glasses.
They pull down my dress to just under my breasts, pulling on the nipples until they are rigid and just beginning to get tender. They begin to slap my tits and I whimper, making them each smile to himself. They smack each over and over, my nipples becoming more and more sensitive. Red hand prints begin to appear on my skin and I watch one of his friends walk behind me. The fingers of one hand trail over my hip while the other raises and comes down in a pop. I jerk forward, gripping the glasses as tight as I can. I barely stumbling towards the other one slapping my breasts back and forth and his fingers hit my breast bone, making me gasp.
They continue to strike, ignoring the other and giving me no rhythm to brace for. I am simply holding my breath. One hand comes down hard on my ass, one cheek and then the other. I watch as his third friend walks behind me and in a full wallop two hands come down on my ass. I stumble completely forward, falling off my toes for the first time that night and letting the glasses slip from my hands.
Everyone stops and all I can hear is my breath. Tears well in my eyes and I want to beg forgiveness of my owner. I have failed him. He tried to show was a perfect girl I was and I have failed him. I am devastated.
They speak but I can barely make out what they say. My mind is reeling.
"Lay down on your back." I do. They move slowly, walking around me. Two kneel beside me, each grabbing a leg. They are such kind men, they push back my legs, spreading them. My pussy is exposed, opened for them.
"Beautiful" says the one in the blue tie.
"You have a lovely girl, here," says another wearing glasses.
I can feel ice and cold whiskey on my back. My owner nods to the one in the red tie, who comes to the front. He taps one of the men holding my legs back and I sense they have a plan for me. I watch as the one in the red tie unzips his hands and pulls out his cock. He strokes it a few times before sliding it inside my pussy with a groan.
"Excellent little cunt you have here."
My owner takes his thumb and begins to work my clit, pulling and teasing it. I arch, still laying on my folded arms, and writhe against the two men fucking me so effortlessly right now. And then I feel it.
The tip of a thin, relentless cane begins to come down on the bottoms of my feet. This will teach me to fall off of my toes. I wiggle and struggle but they hold me steady as the red tie's cock continues to thrust inside me, pushing all the way in and pulling out.
"Would you like to try her?" He nods to the gentleman in the glasses, who has yet to put his cock anywhere near me.
The caning is rendering my feet numb. I try to restrain myself from flexing my foot, leaving each pointed with the soles up and read for my discipline. It will be days before I can walk comfortably as I feel white heat moving towards numbness.
He nods, thanking my owner for his generosity. The man with the red tie continues to fuck me, thrusting harder and faster until he is satisfied with his sampling of my pussy. He places his cock back in his pants and they exchange places.
The man with the red tie has a thicker cock, and does not bother to stroke himself before thrusting deeply inside me. I cry out, fighting so hard they almost let go of my legs. My arms feel as if they are about to fall out of their sockets, strained behind my back.
He fucks me harder than the other one, but my owner's fingers on my clit are relentless. I squirm harder, fighting to pull back. My pussy feel so tender I want to explode, but all I can do is scream and whimper and cry out.
"Would you like her to cum on your cock?" The gentleman with the glasses nods, thanking my owner again. My owner turns back to me and stops the caning of my feet, where the skin is threatening to split open. "Show them how good of a girl you are."
I nod, eyes squeezed shut, black mascara tears beginning to run down my cheeks.
The man's thick cock slows, pushing in and out in a more quiet, languid manner. My owner's fingers move harder on my clit, flicking back and forth as I drip onto the floor underneath me.
They work slowly, building faster, pushing harder, thrusting deep into my cunt. My cries and screams turn to moans, gasps. I begin to beg, pleading with them not to stop. Each focuses on his part, but each work in tandem. Fingers and mouths graze my thighs, leaving lines and gaps of electricity in their wake.
Each plays his part perfectly, and then together. Each deep thrust is matched with the whir on my clit. I am moaning and they are relentless. I fight, I struggle, but I beg to cum.
"No. Wait."
I nod, struggling as hard as I can. This is the largest fight I have hand to undertake in years.
"Please, please, Sir. Please, I can't wait." I cry out more and he looks at me, his face serene, his fingers destroying my clit.
"Did you try to be a good girl tonight?"
I nod, tears welling in my eyes.
"Did you try your hardest?"
I nod harder, squeezing my eyes, black tears spilling out on either side.
"Are you going to cum hard for me?"
I nod, opening my eyes, pushing back against the man's cock, against my owner's fingers, against my own body which aches to cum. I stare him in the eyes, letting him know of my sincerity, my desperation.
"Then cum for me."
I nod and close my eyes, screaming, bucking wildly. They hold my legs tighter, pinning them back as a writhe and struggle. I watch them flex, taking all of them just to hold me down. I cum so hard I fear I may black out, every ounce of tension exploding out of me in a long, sustained, painful orgasm.
I collapse on the floor and they mill about, wiping their brows and exchanging chips for real money. They all make small talk for a few more minutes and collect their things, which I have laid out so nicely on the bed.
My owner lifts me and I am dazed as scissors take off the black tape, and my arms are rubbed back to feeling. He helps me stand and undress, and I move immediately to the tub, where I welcome the steaming hot water which is unleashed onto me. I soak. I sit. I breathe.
He does not speak. He simply pushes my hair back behind my ears and kisses the top of my head. Water runs over me, washing me blank again.
I am a mess. I am lost. I am bliss.

I apparently have something on the brain.

2011-02-03T08:17:00.001-08:00

We've been drinking since... brunch? I match her drink for drink, like I always do. One by one friends trickle out and go back to their lives until we are the only ones left to stay and drink. There's nothing like being tipsy in the late afternoon. There may be nothing more beautiful than a swollen orange sun lilting through a tall glass of cold beer. Especially when you're with someone who makes you wet.
She's got solid, broad shoulders and wears a button up shirt well. Long, jet black, grab-able hair. If she were wearing a loosened tie I wouldn't be able to hold back. It's her hands, though, that I want most. They're strong, and just rough enough to where I can imagine them on my nipples.
I feel it every time her leg presses against mine under the table. I feel it push against my thigh. I feel it in my nipples, which straighten and tighten and swell. I feel it tingle in my clit, beginning to ache from the day and the alcohol. I feel it in my cunt, which starts to pulse and soak my panties.
Her hands have become more courageous as the day has worn on. They casually run over my forearm, my back, and have finally begun brushing my legs, leaving trails of heat and then simply cold and lacking.
Black ink crisscrosses her tan forearms. They flex when she reaches for her glass, and the patterns curve slightly more. It's fucking gorgeous.
"Lets play pool."
I'm shit at pool. She nods her head to the table, and walks ahead of me, pulling quarters out of her pocket. The pools table's in a back room, and I follow her, watching her strong and unapologetic gait. We tuck away in the room, placing tall glasses on the side of the table. She racks and I watch, holding a cue. I watch every move she makes, and while my eyes are locked on her arms, hips, ass, and legs, I barely notice her turn around to watch me watch her. She watches my lips purse, watches my chest swell. She watches me suck softly on my bottom lip, letting it pop out wet and red. She watches as I notice her, and she watches me blush.
"Break." I finally say, my voice soft and blushing.
"Whatever you like, Princess."
She smiled and bends, breaking the balls with a huge clack, and they ricochet. Every time it is my turn, I make sure to bend for her, letting my ass shift and sway. I arch my back, sit on the edge of the table as she shoots, wait until she is watching me to move. She knows what I'm doing, and she doesn't stop me.
I bend over, and I finally feel her hand on the small of my back. I smile, returning to the pressure against her hand. She presses harder, and I press back. She finally pushes with all her weight and I collapse down on the table with a thump. I turn my head but she grabs my hair and puts it back in its place.
"Look forward."
I nod.
"Take the cue and hold your arms straight out, but don't let them touch the table."
I do as she says, holding my breath. Her hand disappears from my back and I take a large breath, which she immediate spanks hard out of me.
I reel from the pressure and pain, the searing sting on my ass, the slam of my hips into the table.
"Don't lower your arms."
I hold them onto an inch or two from the table, but perfectly straight out. She spanks me again, and I suck in a breath this time. Her hand comes down again on my ass, hard. I am still wearing a skirt, so she doesn't bother warming me up. She simply begins to come down hard on my ass in rhythmic blows.
"If you can take ten more in silence you can lower your arms."
I nod and she begins slowly. Each one is powerful and I ache to whimper. I bite my lip and breathe quickly through my nose, trying to hold back my voice. Three, four, five smacks and I am aching.
After the fifth she pulls down my tights, lifting my skirt without hesitation. I am bare-assed for her and whoever comes into the back room of the bar. I squeeze my eyes tight, and when I open them all I see are multi-colored balls on endless, soft green. I want to lay my head down but I hold myself up, the pool cue shaking but not dropping. Six and my breathing is ragged. Seven and I am trembling. Eight and I am shaking. Nine and I let out the smallest, most regrettable chirp in the back of my throat. She stops. I breathe, wanting to cry. The muscles in my arms are aching and tense.
"Start at one. No noise."
I want to cry out, I want to beg, but mostly i want to put the cue down. I breathe through the first several, my mind floating as I feel endorphins flood my body. I know I can get through this and be a good girl for her.
Five and I am visibly trembling. She walks around the table and I am desperate for the reprieve. With this moment, I breath a little easier.
She removes the cue from my hands and I do not let them fall. I am nervous. She picks up the eight ball and the cue ball and places on in either hand. Their weight is almost too much; I almost begin to cry.
She walks back around slowly.
"Six."
Each blow makes my hands jerks a little, but I do not touch the table.
"Do you hate me?"
I nod, my face tight, my breath held.
"Breathe." I do, quietly. I cannot give her the satisfaction of making me drop these balls. She got a single noise, and I am not going to give her another.
"Good girl." I smile, but only on one side. She spanks me harder, and I gasp, tightening my mouth. The burn is turning to numbness and with each bare-handed spank, I expend I am turning redder, more swollen.
"Your ass is white hot, Princess." I smirk again, snorting out a little breath of laughter.
Seven. I am resilient. With the end in sight, I tighten my grip on the balls.
Eight. I can taste relief.
"You can drop your arms on ten." I nod.
Nine and my legs have begun to shake. My knees are tightening and bracing against the table. I want the last one so much I now ache in a new way.
As soon as I feel the tenth blow I drop the balls and her hand begins to fly down, pounding over and over and over again on my ass. I cry out, and try to turn away, fighting to get out from underneath her as she wraps am arm over my waist and holds me against the table. I begin to curse at her, wriggling hard, trying to fight back as blow after blow after aching blow comes down on my bare ass. I turn enough to spit directly at her, which only makes her lean up and smack me in the face.
With her arm free I finally turn over onto my back and her hand comes down once hard on my cunt. I scream out just as she plunges her fingers deeply into my pussy. I tighten around her fingers against my will, crying out again as she proceed to thrust hard.
I lean up on my arms and she pushes me back down, her thumb nail running rough over my soaked cunt. I try and push her off, but my arms are so weak from holding them up I can barely make her notice I have touched her. I collapse back instead.
I push my hips against her hand, and she takes her other hand to push down on my pelvis, pinning me to the table. She is not even going to let me fuck her back.
This is not about me.
She climbs onto the table and sits on my waist, straddling, holding my upper body down. Her fingers pound my cunt, which is not dripping down onto the green felt of the table. My tights are around my thighs, holding my thighs together.
I push against her hands but all I can do it take. All I can do is tighten around her and curl my toes and struggle not to cum in her hand.
She pushes in a third finger and I am stretched, crying out and arching up as far as her body will let me. I push down against her hand as much as I can. I want more.
She works my clit hard, mercilessly. Her nails scrape over it, finding the spot that makes me whimper and hold my breath and focusing on it. She wants me to cum for her. All I am allowed to do is perform as told.
I struggle not to. I fight hard, trying to let my mind wander, trying to steady my breath but she is unrelenting. I don't want to cum for her. Not here.
I have little choice in the matter and I scream. I cum hard on her fingers, tensing, gripping. Her hand lets go of my pelvis and I push hard on her hand, my muscles clenched so tight I fear what I'm about to feel.
She climbs off of me and takes her hand, covered in my cum, and wipes it across my cheek. I can feel it coat my cheek, and my mouth tightens, my eyes narrow.
"Don't wash your face until you get home tonight. They should see what a slut you are."

A few things to smile about.

2011-01-23T15:34:00.000-08:00

'Sex' is as important as eating or drinking and we ought to allow the one appetite to be satisfied with as little restraint or false modesty as the other.

I love being loud. I love moaning and yelling and crying out and screaming when I'm cumming. I love jerking off and hearing my own voice reverberate in an empty, cold apartment.

I love kissing. I love moving my lips over someone's... lips, hands, chest, neck, cock, thighs, pussy, legs. I love when my lips are swollen from the pressure of someone else's mouth.

I love biting. I love sinking my teeth into soft flesh and twisting, soft and hard, quick and slow, tight and tighter. And I love the marks my teeth leave. Beautiful little red circles of dented adoration.

I love licking. Especially when someone thinks I'll bite. A tongue curling up the neck or jaw line, tasting hot sweat and prickling on rough stubble.

I love hands. I love strong hands, a little rough, so I can feel the friction when they slide over my arms, legs, stomach, breasts.

I love how wet I get. I love that I get dripping, soaking wet in copious rivers. I love feeling it drip down my thighs and, when kneeling naked, over my ankles.

I love pressure. I love feeling the pressure of someone pushing against me. I love feeling their weight against my body. Particularly if I am squeezed between them and a wall.

I love when my nipples get hard against the fabric of my shirt, and every movement incites their tightening.

I love sucking and nibbling and teasing with my lips.

I love chocolate pudding. Not in a sexual way, but just as a side note. I really love chocolate pudding.

I love being squeezed. I love being groped and claimed and manhandled roughly. I love when I am taken and held and pushed and enclosed.

I love to struggle, and push against hands and legs and fight. I love when they catch me against a wall and tell me to stop struggling.

I love feeling a thigh between my legs. When I press down against them against my will, and feel them against my clit. I love when they press between my legs, and I want to stop moaning, but I can't.

I love leaving a spot of wet cum on someone's pants. I want them to feel it soaking through their pants and warm on their leg.

I love warm, dry towels.

I love feeling ashamed of how wet I am.

I love feeling someone get hard against me. I love when all of a sudden I can feel the swelling of a cock against me. It makes me ache and writhe. I love grinding against it. It takes my breath away.

I love when he puts his fingers in my mouth to suck, keeping my head steady, fighting with my tongue.

I love when a hand is slid into my panties. I love trying to move away from it but feeling a hand squeeze my cunt.

I love having my hands pinned behind my head. I love when I try to push hands away, and immediately my hands are pinned back.

I love blushing. I love when someone can actually catch me off guard enough to feel nervous, ashamed, embarrassed. I love the heat rising into my cheeks and having to look away from the rest of the room to keep my cool.

I love dark nail polish. I love the way it looks on short, blunt nails. It looks like damage could be done.

I love when my skirt is pulled up. I love when it's pushed up and I struggle by shifting up, but it doesn't matter. My skirt is still around my waist.

I love begging. I love being on the verge of tears and asking, pleading; asking 'not here, no, please stop.'

I love fingers over my panties. I love the friction of cotton on my clit. I love soaking my panties against my will. I love fingers pressing against my pussy through them, just teasing.

I love when my panties are pulled down. I love when they're ripped off and I'm left exposed, wet, ashamed, humiliated for wanting it so badly.

I love when it takes one hand to pull out his cock. I love feeling skin and swelling against my thigh. It makes me shake.

I love being fucked. I love being fucked roughly, and painfully. I love when he shoves his cock inside my cunt and fucks me so hard it makes me gasp.

I love when his hand goes over my mouth. I love trying to move my face away but feeling him press my head so hard into the wall it hurts. I love when my mouth is covered so hard I struggle to breathe.

I love when he cums inside me. I love feeling his cock exploding in me.

I love music with good lyrics. I like words that I can soak into and that can soak into me. I love Isobel Campbell and Mark Lanegan. I love her soft melodies against his earnest growl.

I love when he pulls back and puts his cock away. I love that he barely looks at me.

I love superheroes. Though, the outfits are hit or miss. Wonder Woman, Batgirl, Silk Spctre? Amazing. Powergirl, Rogue, Supergirl... Leave room for improvement.

I love when I am told to cum for him. I love looking around to make sure no one is watching and his hand grips my chin. I don't want to make him tell me twice, and my hand moves to my pussy.

I love feeling my cum drip down onto my legs as I rub my clit furiously. I love pushing my fingers into my pussy and feeling it pulse on my fingers as I ache to cum.

I love when his hand goes back over my mouth to shut me up. I love when he tells me not to stop, but to shut my mouth.

I love cumming on my fingers. I love soaking my fingers, feeling it coating my skin.

I love sucking my fingers clean when I'm done. Licking over and in between, getting every drop with my tongue, eyes on him.

I love that he finishes ripping off my panties and shoves them in his pocket. I love that he makes me walk back out with a tiny little skirt and no panties, exposed and nervous for the rest of the night. Knowing that people will point and whisper. It makes me feel exposed, unnerved.

I love the sip from his drink he tips into my mouth. I love the cold of ice and vodka as I'm hot and flustered.

I love the buzz and breathlessness after I cum. I love that I have to steady myself on his arm even though I hate him for doing it to me.

I love bad jokes.

I love good desserts.

I love experiences which I have to decide whether or not I enjoyed later.

1950s shit is hot.

2011-01-20T15:27:00.000-08:00

I'm waiting for him to come home. I'm always nervous in these moments before he gets home. He'll either be sober and somber, or drunk and hateful. I never know which I like more.
Dinner is on the stove and ready to plate as soon as I hear his key in the lock. Every time I hear the elevator open I tense and run for my ladle. It is always the elevator sound that I almost don't hear. When his key slides into the lock, I am dishing out rice, and sliding chicken onto a plate. When he opens the door I am almost to the second plate. By the time his coat is hanging, I am ready, two full dinner plates in hand.
It takes him two tries to hang up his coat, which lets me know he's the latter of the two options. He is unhappy with dinner as soon as he sets it on the table. He walks over and gives me a brief, dismissive kiss on the side of the temple and sits down. I am waiting for a rant about work, to hear about how stupid his boss is or how much he loathes his secretary but he is quiet as he takes the first bite.
He takes a second.
Out of nowhere he flips the plate, rice splattering onto the floor, and glass shattering around me. My breath is caught and it is a long moment of fear before I even realize I am holding my breath.
"What the fuck is that?"
I wait and he slaps me across the face.
"What the fuck is that?"
I open my mouth to speak and feel tears well up. He slaps me again across the face and stands as I being to tremble.
"Stupid bitch." He grabs me by my hair, tightening his fingers and making my scalp burn. He pulls me up and out of the chair, tears running black mascara down my cheeks. "You stupid bitch, do you not understand what I'm saying?"
"I do!" I finally cry out, voice trembling.
He stops. "Good." He slaps me again. "She's slow but she's listening" he says to no one in particular. "So what the fuck is this?" He points to the food on the floor and pushes my head towards it. "This is shit." He shoves my face closer. "This is dog food, you cunt." His fingers tighten in my hair and I start to whimper over the tears. He continues to curse under his breath. "You're making me eat dog food, you little inconsiderate cunt." He finally shoves my face into the floor. "Then eat like a dog. Off the floor." He shoves my face harder into the floor, my cheek flush against the wood. "You don't appreciate what I give you, so eat like a dog."
I breathe hard, waiting. He turns my face. "EAT." I open my mouth, unsure. "Eat off the floor like the ungrateful dog you are." He squats down and watches as I take small bites, licking, tasting everything I use to clean the wood, tasting dinner, tasting shame, tasting my tears as they drip down. "Good girl."
He watches me closely and then turns my head again. Rice and carrots stick to my cheek. He stands and places a foot on my other cheek, pressing me harder and harder into the floor. "Ungrateful cunt."
"Yes, Sir." I squeak out.
He removes his boot. "Do you know what you're good for? Get up."
I stumble to my feet, wiping my face, pieces of food dropping to the floor.
"You know what you're good for. Do it." I get down on my knees, and unzip his pants. He slaps me softly on the face. It's the closest he can come to affection right now.
I lean in and begin to lick his cock. It is already swollen, the tip red and ready to drip. I take it into my mouth quickly as he begins to get restless with my tongue. He moans.
He grabs the sides of my face and starts to fuck my mouth slowly, almost calmly. It is the only time he will be calm tonight.
In full control of my head, he is getting faster. And though I want to struggle, I continue to cry, simply letting him slide his cock into my throat. It works my mouth roughly, sliding out slowly and then pounding it back in. Over and over he takes long drags and then violent thrusts. I whimper, spit dripping from my mouth and onto my dress. His hands tighten on my face, and his thumbs go on either side of my mouth to hold it open.
"Fuck, you do know what you're good for." I can taste his precum as he drags his cock over my tongue.
Finally he pulls out and I reach up to wipe my mouth of spit and makeup and pieces of the floor I came from. "Bend over."
I do willingly, and he pulls my dress up in the back. He had me stop wearing panties months ago, preferring only garter belts and stockings to the bother of underwear. He reaches underneath me as I bend over the table and I am humiliated at how wet I am. "Such a hungry little dog, aren't you?"
He shoves his cock in me and I moan. "No, puppy. Bark for me." I am timid. Shocked, really. He grabs my hair and pulls my head back. "BARK."
"Arf!" I yelp out, just wanting my hair back.
As I let it out he starts to fuck me. "Don't moan, puppy. Just bark."
I nod, biting my lip and trying to keep all sounds in. I reach my hand down between my legs and tempt fate.
He fucks me hard, and I feel my cunt squeezing him hard. As I slam into the table, my hips begin to ache and I feel he has finally chipped the bones underneath.
I want him to explode inside me. I want to feel it dripping down my thighs as I kneel down and clean up glass and food. I rub my own clit furiously, crying out, loudly. "ARF ARF ARF!"
He moans, shooting hard into me. He bucks against my ass, holding it tightly before letting me go. He stumbles off to bed, and I feel it begin to drip as I kneel down and pick up my first bits of rice.

She is either his slave or his despot.

2011-01-18T08:19:00.000-08:00

My hands are tied behind my back and there is a collar around my neck. Attached to that collar is a leash and attached to that leash is the owner of my submission tonight. He keeps me a step or two ahead of him at all times, pulling me around. He places various things in my bound hands, from his drink to a crop to his clothed cock. Every time I touch his cock he squeezes my arm and I gasp, catching my breath in my throat.
"I have a gift for you." He whispers into my ear. I smile, giddy, excited to see what he has brought for me. "You're such a good girl." His hands trail down my arms and I shiver, goosebumps blooming underneath his fingers. They land on the ropes around my wrists and begin to untie the knots. The ropes fall between our feet and his hands work mine, rubbing the marks and tingling finger tips.
I look around for my present, almost bubbling over with excitement but all I see is a large empty space with a few people milling around. He lifts my hand forward and extends his finger to a pretty girl, dressed in a lovely little black outfit. She is pretty but not generally my type.
"I want you to break her." He whispers. "She's a pain slut. Do whatever you like to her."
My chest swells. I am breathless with the idea. He has known about my sadist tendencies but never seen them. I want him to be proud of what his girl can do. His hands are on my sides and hips, squeezing them, warming me. I feel my nipples tighten to the point of pain. I hear the metal on the collar clank a little. "When I take off this leash, take her." I nod and feel myself get aggressive, animalistic. I start to growl softly in the back of my throat and I hear the softest laugh.
He reaches down and squeezes my cunt through my panties, and I'm already wet. I grind hard into his hand and he pulls me back up straight. He pulls off the leash, leaving the collar around my neck - letting me know I still belong to him.
The second it is off I am ready to pounce. I walk towards her in fast, gaping steps. She is staring at me with fear in her eyes and an excitement in her ragged breath.
I immediately grab her by the hair and pull her to the floor, putting her on her knees. She squeals a little and I tell her to shut the fuck up. She is on all fours and I pull her up so she is kneeling.
I begin to walk circles around her. I want her to feel like live bait. She swallows hard as I walk slowly, stopping behind her. I walk over and stroke her hair softly, teasingly. "Miss?"
I walk around her. "Open your mouth." She does and I spit, closing her mouth. "I told you to shut the fuck up." I slap her across the face hard. "Now swallow."
I grab her by the hair again and push her down. Her hands reach for the floor and I stop. "No. Hold you hands behind your back." She does and I force her to lean down, holding herself up just by her own strength and will. I reach down and dig my nails into the flesh of her ass. She whimpers and I begin to spank her hard, landing smack after smack after smack on her ass. I pound her ass red, feeling the skin warm and swell. I use both hands until they ache, and keep pushing until finally she cries out loudly. I smile and stop.
"Get on all fours." I sit on her back, straddling her like a backwards pony. "I thought you were a pain slut." I spank her once. She cries out. "Count." I spank her again and she whimpers out a 'one'. I smack her on the back of the thighs and she continues to count. "Tell me what you are in 3 words."
"I'm a slut."
"Four words."
"I'm a dirty slut."
"Five words."
"I'm a dirty fucking slut."
"Seven words."
"I'm a dirty fucking cunt rag slut."
"Now tell me that every time you get smacked from now on."
She screams it as a hit her ass, her thighs, the bottoms of her feet. She screams it as a grab her hair and pull her back onto the floor and spread her legs, slapping her inner thighs in stinging swipes. She whimpers it as I begin to slap directly onto her pussy, which is already wet. Every smack ends with my fingers pushing into her clit, making her push forward for another hard whack.
"Do you like that?" She nods, whimpering. I spit on her and smack her again harder. She cries out and then moans as I more forcefully rub her clit. "Do you know why?" She shakes her head. I spit and slap harder, grinding the palm of my hand into her clit. "Because you're a dirty." Smack. "Fucking." Smack. "Cunt-rag." Smack. "Slut" I pull her underwear aside and shove two fingers into her, fucking her hard and making her cry out.
I pull my fingers out of her. "Shut the fuck up, cunt." I look back at him and he is watching calmly, hand over the hard cock still in his pants. I smile at him and he smiles at me, nodding. I lick my lips as I watch his hand move. I turn back to her. A man is standing nearby with a drink and I wave him over, taking the drink from his hands. I grab her by the hair and drag her over to kneel in front of me as I sit in a chair and slide forward. I pull off my panties and spread my legs. I am soaked. "You know what you're good for."
She nods and goes in hungrily, licking and sucking my clit, her tongue pushing inside me. She leans back and uses the tip of her tongue and I take the opportunity. I pour the drink down over my clit and she laps up vodka and cum in gulps. Her makeup is smearing, black running down her face. I finish with the drink and pull her hair back to slap her. "Lick the rest off the floor."
She goes to work, her tongue licking and dabbing. I pull the lime out of the glass and push her on her back again, squeezing the remnants of lime juice in the wedge onto her cunt as I kneel over her. I slide up to her face and begin to rub my clit, pushing fingers into my pussy, dripping vodka and cum into her mouth as I get closer and closer to cumming on her face.
I look up and he stands, walking over to me. He gets behind me and violently shoves me down until I am on all fours over her. He pulls out his cock and without a word or a hesitation, shoves it inside me. I squeeze my pussy around it and moan loudly as his fingers find my clit and start to work it roughly. His cock swells and I push hard back against him. I squirt onto her face, and she moans, watching his cock pound me from only inches away. He is fucking me relentlessly, and I am so close I can feel blood running through my veins and under my skin. He can tell I am getting ready to cum, and pulls me up by the hair, putting a hand on my throat. He tightens and I am immediately light headed and caught off guard. I finally whisper "Please?" Choking out one word in place of a real question.
"Yes, cum for me. Cum all over her face."
I scream out, cumming hard all over his cock, cum dripping down onto her pretty, mascara smeared face. I have not earned his cum yet, that will wait for later. He pulls out of me and lifts me onto his lap, letting me curl up. I tuck my face into the crook of his neck and whisper into his ear. He laughs and nods, looking down at the girl.
"She said, 'don't fucking wash your face'." I smile and thank him. The girls gets up and I hear her ask if she can say thank you but he waves her off. She is gone and his lips move to my ear. "Good girl."

Lookin forward to a little afternoon delight

2010-12-26T17:13:00.000-08:00

I'm 14 and already quite the little cunt. Already a dirty little whore. I dress like a slut, and I fuck around with boys in school. I'll suck cock for an A, and I treat other girls like shit. And I know a secret.
He's a teacher. He gets us to read the classics and prods us for our thoughts. I've wanted to fuck him since day one. I've wanted to fuck him ever since he handed out copies of Huck Finn and winked at me when my dark purple fingernail slid over the raised wording of the title on the cover. I paint my lips for him and primp before his class. I have spent the last semester pouting at him, and in the last class he finally caught me, losing his train of thought mid-sentence.
And now I have a secret which makes me steam. I am searing with anger, and I imagine he can tell. He knows that I know. I have been cutting his class, and he hasn't said anything to the school yet. Finally he sees me in the hall and asks me to come to his classroom after school today.
I have to go. I show up, and like always, primp before I see him. I have swollen red lips and a skirt that just barely covers my ass. And, of course, glasses. He's told me how pretty he thinks I am in my glasses before and I want him to remember.
I walk into his classroom, closing the door behind me. He is sitting at his desk and looks up.
"Yes?" I ask. How indignant I must sound. How unappreciative. How hurt.
"Hey, I'm glad you're here. I wanted to talk to you." I stand, even though he gestures for me to sit. "Come on, don't make this hard for me."
I nod, sucking my cheeks in and not making eye contact. I sit on a desk and he sits on his. He wants to be my peer right now, in his rolled up sleeves and tousled hair. I want to be his fucktoy.
"So what's been goin' on? You're one of my favorite students, I miss you when you're not here."
"I haven't wanted to come."
"Did I do something?"
There is a long pause. I lean back and cross my arms, cocking one side of my mouth just slightly. "I know what you did, Sam."
He pauses. I have never called him by his first name. "Mr.-"
"Sam. I. Know. What. You. Did." I am slow and methodical, catching him off guard. He has known how capable I of this since day one. Men like him can spot girls like me. Humberts always find their Los. I giggle and his face turns angry.
"So what did I do?" His voice chokes.
"She told me-" His head drops. He can't deny it after it gesture like that. "I told you I knew."
"So you haven't come to class because of that?"
This is when my eyes furrow. I have been seathing about this for days and this is the moment it's finally allowed to come forth. "It should have been me." He is not even taken aback. He knows. "If you were going to fuck one of your students, it shouldn't have been that fucking virgin."
"Stop it."
"What the fuck were you thinking? You want me. You want to fuck me, if you were going to make a mistake, to fuck up your career, it should have at least been worth it."
"Stop it."
"I'm going to tell them what you did. I'm going to say you fucked her and came onto me. Said you were going to give me an A if I sucked you off. Said it would have been an A+ if I let you fuck me in the ass-"
"You stupid bitch, shut the fuck up!" He is angry, and stands. "Stop it. I want you to stop."
I pause. It's more fun to watch him squirm.
"I'm sorry. You must have been misinformed. I wouldn't sleep with a student." He sits at his desk, fuming, red.
I stand, walking around to his desk. He is in his chair and I lower down to sit on the desk next to him. "I'll make you a deal."
"No."
"Fuck me and I won't tell." He loathes me as he gets harder. "I'll never say a word." I lift up his face with my fingers. "Cross my heart, Sam."
"You're mistaken." He pushes my hand away, but lets his hand linger on my wrist.
"I won't say a word."
"You don't know what you're asking."
"Yes I do. And I want it." He stands and I grab his arm, squeezing it. "I want it. Now." My eyes narrow and he is getting angrier.
"You think so?"
"Fuck me."
"Shut up."
"Do it, you old pervert." He is seething, and finally grabs my arm. He pulls me off the desk and I gasp for the first time, grabbing onto his arm to steady myself.
He pushes me against the desk and I want his lips on mine. No such thing happens as he slap me across the face. I want to cry with the sting. He turns me around and shoves me against the desk so hard I can feel the bruise on my hips spread. He pulls up my skirt.
"This is what you want?" He pulls down my panties and pulls out his cock. He is already hard, swollen, red, dripping. So am I.
He shoves his cock inside me and holds it there, deeper than I've felt anything inside me. It hurts and I want to cry.
"Is this what you want?" He starts to buck against me, and I can feel it inside my stomach. He is pounding my cunt raw, slamming his hard cock deep inside me. I start to whimper, but he doesn't even acknowledge me. He grabs my hair and pulls it back, and I can feel him ripping my hair out of my scalp with his fist.
"Take it, cunt." I am aching. His hips pound so hard into me that I am slamming into the edge of the desk. I want to scream but as I open my mouth he puts his hand tightly over my throat and starts to squeeze. I can feel my pussy tighten around him, searing pain growing with every thrust.
His other hand comes down hard on my ass and I try and gasp but his hand squeezes tighter. I start to feel myself go limp against him, and I struggle harder for air. He loosens his grip and I gasp hard, wheezing, barely noticing as he continues to slide inside me. I catch my breath and squeeze my cunt on his cock, making him moan softly in the back of his throat. I start to cry as I catch my breath, and tears run down to his hand but he doesn't even flex to see what it is.
He squeezes again, bucking harder. I try and scream, I want to beg him to stop. It hurts too much and I know I am going to be cleaning blood from this pair of underwear tonight. His hand comes down again, harder on my ass. He comes down harder and harder each time.
His hand tightens so hard on my throat I think I may never breathe again and begins to cum inside me. His cum burns in my pussy, and he jerks with each load. He is filling me with cum, epic amounts of cum. As soon as he is done he pulls back and shoves me against the desk. He is gasping, sweating, closing his pants. He takes a few steps away from me as I lie on the desk.
He charges back over and begins to spank me. Each time he hands his hand on my ass I whimper and squirm, trying to move away from his hand. He places a hand on the small of my back and holds me as close to in place as he can. His hand pounds faster and I continue to cry, tears and spit running out onto his papers.
He finally pulls me up by my hair.
"Is that what you wanted?" He is breathing hard, red-faced.
I am silent.
He slaps me across the face. Hard. "I asked you a question."
"Yes." I whisper.
He smacks me again. "Louder."
"Yes." I announce.
He spits directly in my face. "Good girl. Are you going to tell?"
"Yes." He spits again, rubbing it into my face. I am decorated in bruises and mascara tears.
"Are you coming to class tomorrow?"
"Yes."
"Good girl. Now clean the fuck up. You look like a dirty slut."
He walks out. I am on time to class the next day.

Go buy eye hooks. They come in handy.

2010-12-23T11:29:00.000-08:00

"You've been such a good girl for me." He says. "I'm so proud of you, and you know how I love showing you off." He's leading me to a wall with eye-hooks in two lines down the wall. I love his praise. It makes my heart pound and gets me wet and perky. I can't wait to serve him.
"But I worry that it's only because you enjoy it. That you're not doing it because it pleases me."
I open my mouth to explain that I love serving him, that I would do anything for him.
"Stop. Don't tell me what you think I want to hear." He pushes me against the wall hard enough to take my breath away. I am caught off guard, but never afraid he is angry. He stays so calm. He simply wants to know the depth of my submission, and I am pleased to show him what I am willing to do.
He takes a blindfold and puts it over my eyes. He knows what this does to me. He knows the first time he put it on I groped for him more, lost my breath more, and trembled when he wasn't touching me. I take a long breath and nod, smiling for him. I heard him chuckle and know that whatever he has planned will wipe that smugness from my face.
He shoves me against the wall and puts a piece of duct tape over my mouth. He tells me to squat down and I do, knees splayed and pussy exposed.
I feel ropes quickly wrap around each bicep. Ropes are tied down my arm and to each eye hook so I cannot move. I can barely squirm, and I love when he watches me squirm.
But that is my love, and not his.
I am crouched and I already feel a burn in my thighs and knees. I know he is done because I hear him walking away. I am breathing, and it's all I can hear for long stretches. I can barely tell if he is still in the room. I hear some movement, and footsteps approach. I am blowing hard out of my nose, waiting, and my nose begins to run.
I can feel the heat of another body standing in front of me. I wait. And then I hear it.
"Take your cock out." His voice, the one I have waited to hear, is on the other side of the room. I have no idea who is now unzipping his pants and pulling out his cock.
"Go." I hear him start to stroke his cock. I am still squatted, and he is now jerking off directly in front of my face. I am glad my mouth is covered, but I can still feel the heat of his body, hear him beating off, moaning a little in the back of his throat.
"Spit on her." This man who I have no clue about grabs me by the hair tightly. "No. I didn't say you could touch her. I said spit on her." He grunts and lets me go, spitting in my hair as he continues to jerk off, beating his cock over and over.
I picture him sitting and watching me, suit trousers and a button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up. His tie is loosened slightly, and he is leaning forward on his knees.
My thighs are burning as I continue to hold myself up and pull downward on my arms. I can feel the ropes searing my skin as I try and ease my legs. They start to tremble, and I continue to shift.
"Slap her tits." He know how much this makes me scream and whimper. My tits are sensitive, and he knows it. I start to yell behind the duct tape. I don't know who this man is, and I am afraid of what he thinks I can take.
His hand comes down hard right on my nipples and I yell as best I can, whimpering, snot dripping down my face. He slaps them again, whipping them hard with his hand. I continue to scream, or at least try.
"I want to hear her." And of course, the man rips duct tape off my mouth. I scream at everything, all at once in forceful yell. He continues to slap and I continue to whimper, trying desperately to move and still unable. I start to cry, sniffling, tears dripping down my face as he is relentless on my tits.
"Stop." He slaps once more. "Hey! I said stop. She's not your girl." I hear him shift in his chair as the man stops abruptly. "She's mine. And you'll stop when I say stop."
The man freezes and I am breathing hard, sniffling and sore. My legs are still shaking. For the first time, he addresses me. "Open your mouth, young lady." And I do, dropping my jaw and letting my tears stop.
"Continue." The man continues to jerk off. Faster. Jerking harder. I can hear him straining to cum quickly. I am shaking more and more. I want to turn my head so he cant cum in my mouth, but I hold steady.
"Finish." He grunts and begins to cum. It is in my hair, on my face, dropping down onto my tits. I am disgusted. I feel destroyed and picked apart, raw and exposed.
When the man is finished, he walks away, and I can hear them in mumbles talking to each other. They each exchange thanks and I wait for a door to close.
When we are alone, I hear him walk back over. My legs shake and I sweat in pain. I feel him take a wet washcloth and wipe off my face. It is so soft over my skin and into my hair. The ropes are pulled away so slowly, and I know my legs will give out as soon as he stands me up.
Pain rips through me as he helps me out of my squat. I cry out, and he lets me collapse against him. I am shaking still, blindfold still on. I am struggling to hold it together, and he holds me and my vulnerability together. He pulls the blindfold off and I blind, squeezing my eyes, hiding my face in his shirt, mascara and eyes shadow and whatever lipstick did not end up on the inside of the duct tape is now smearing into his shoulder.
And when I lean against him, I can feel his hard cock against my leg. He is straining, swollen, and I hear him make the smallest noise in the back of his throat when I push against him.
I am happy. I am pleased. Because so is he.

He's the kind of Uncle you don't talk about

2010-12-12T09:47:00.000-08:00

I am fast asleep. I never remember my dreams, so I can't tell you what I was dreaming about right before I was ripped out of it. I just feel my hair pulled, twisted around a fist, and I am dragged out of bed to crawl across the floor to the chair against the wall. Uncle sits in the chair, and pulls me over is knee.
"Wake up, Jellybean." His voice is unamused and unsympathetic. He pulls my head back a little and my back arches. I can already feel his hard on swollen in his pants pressing into my stomach where I rest across his lap. He pushes it into me, but only to make sure he feels it more, not so I do.
He tugs down my pajama pants, under which I am already bare, and delivers a solid spank with his bare hand.
"Jellybean I said get up." He continues to spank, harder, firmer wit each smack. I can feel him leaving large red welts on my ass. His hands are so big, the skin on them thick and a little rough, that each spank feels like a leather strap.
I can feel his swollen cock move against me as I squirm from the spankings. He reaches underneath and pulls it out of his pants, pulling his pajama bottoms down just far enough. The pre cum dripping out is covering my stomach where my shirt has risen up. I don't know how to feel except dirty.
He continues to deliver spank after spank after spank and can't stop squirming.
"Jellybean, if you can't stop moving, I'm going to have to tie you down, and we don't want that, do we?"
I shake my head and try hard to stay still, but the blows are getting harder and harder. I can't help it but I try and squirm off his lap.
"Why did you make this hard, Jellybean?"
He grabs me by the hair and makes me crawl on the ground to my trunk. Uncle grabs the sheets off my bed and each arm is tied to the legs of the bed. He straddles my back and begins again, wailing on my ass as he strokes his swollen cock. I arch and point my toes, but I immobile. My ass is presented for whatever he likes, and today he likes spanking me over and over and over again with his strong hands. They fall in jazz rhythms. They fall in staccato, sharp and pointed. They fall in lyrical strikes, his arm dropping in slow crescents onto my sides, and the backs of my thighs. They fall hard and long, fast and sweet. And then he grabs, squeezing my ass with both hands, feeling how swollen and warm I am.
I am shaking.
He climbs off of my torso and gets in front of me, pushing his cock into my tight lipped mouth. He can't pull or push away. I can only let his slide the head, red and wet, into my lips and lick. He does not even bother letting me suck on it, letting me show what I good girl I can be when I suck cock. He simply shoves it in and continues stroking until he cums, filling my mouth and watching it drip down my chin.
He finishes, pulling out as a last few drops land on my cheek.
He unties me quickly and does not help me up.
"Make yourself as pretty as I know you can be, Jellybean, I'm making breakfast downstairs."
His coffee is ready, I can smell it. He leaves me in the bedroom to sort myself out, wash my hair and comb my hair. I see that before I even woke up this morning he picked out a dress he wants me to wear and I hobble up to put it on, taking a last look at my swollen, red cherry ass in the mirror before pulling on underwear. I have already begun thinking of ways to get my revenge.
French Toast, Basic Recipe

A tribute to men in business suits

2010-11-18T13:34:00.000-08:00

Black pencil skirt. Black button-up shirt. Garter belt, thigh-high stockings, platform stiletto heels. Black lace bra.
I go to his apartment, shifting from foot to foot on the long ride in the elevator. I've never done this before, but been thinking about it longer than I can remember. I would fantasize, feeling ashamed and mortified that I could fetishize something like this. And now, here I am. Walking down the twisting hallway to his door.
I knock. He opens. I walk into his apartment, opening my jacket and placing down my purse.
"You look nice." he says. I thank him.
"The envelope on the table is for you." he says. I thank him and place it in my purse. It is the last we will speak of it.
He sits on his couch and I walk over, kneeling between his knees. I don't know how to start this, but I'm shaking already. Trembling is a better way to describe it. I am wanton.
I begin to run my fingers over his thighs, his chest, which is hard under my fingers. He's in work clothes still. I have a fetish for a man in a suit, and the fabric of his pants is soft and rough at the same time under my skin. I can feel him harden- which is my favorite part of any encounter with a man- and here it is. His hardening cock below my fingers.
I keep rubbing his cock under his pants, and I can feel my clit starting to throb. I want to fuck him more than anything. I can't help myself and climb onto this lap, trying to grind against his swollen cock. I kiss his neck, and the sounds making the short space between his mouth and my ears are sublime. I feel myself getting wetter and wetter, and when he pushes my thighs back and I move down onto the floor, there is a large drop of my juices on his pants.
He smiles and I wipe it up with my fingers, licking it off them without even thinking. He begins to pull out his cock, and it's huge, long and thick. I want it in my mouth but he's going to choke me with it. I'm nervous. I still have a gag reflex.
I begin to squeeze it in my fingers, stroking up and down the long shaft. He fills my hand, and it is warm in my palm. He pushes my head down and I eagerly start to suck. I do more than suck. I suck and lap and lick and stroke with my tongue. I want him to know how much I want his cock desperately. I want to be a good girl for him. I want to be his best girl.
I suck eagerly, devouring his cock, with my mouth over and over. He moans, and holds my head down, and I almost panic, breathing hard. He stands and holds my head with his hands, and pushes the hand which is on his shaft away. He wants to fuck my mouth.
I want to be his good girl.
He starts slowly, and I squeeze his thighs. I'm scared. He starts to shove it deeper and deeper, choking me with his cock and I fight every urge to pull back. His cock tastes sweet, and I am choking on it. I am trying to calm myself, breathing through my nose and holding onto his thighs, and I am choking on his cock. He is fucking my mouth deeper, harder than I have ever experienced before, and his control over me is electric. I am choking on his cock. Every once in a while I pull back, he be continues to pump into my mouth, easing it back into my throat. I'm choking on his cock and I don't want to stop.
He finally pulls out, telling me what a good girl I am and I beg him on my knees to fuck me. He tells me to get up and bend over. I pull up my skirt and bend over the couch, cunt dripping down my thighs. I am desperate for him. He grabs my hips and slips all nine inches inside me without a hesitation. I cry out, and feel him stretching me. As he starts to fuck me I can feel him in my stomach, and it aches. It is the dull ache of being his little slut; his whore. It feels incredible. I whimper, turning to watch him and he grabs my hair and pulls it.
"I don't want to hear you." He growls, and it goes straight to my clit.
I try so hard not to make any noise but I still make the smallest whimpering noise and I don't want him to hear it. I just want him to keep fucking me.
He pulls out and tells me to get back on my knees, which I do eagerly. I hold onto his thighs and open my mouth, wanting his cock in my throat all over again. He slaps me in the face with his swollen, huge cock. I leave my mouth open like a good little girl, like his fucktoy, and be begins to jerk off over my face. He's going to cover me with his cum and I can't wait. I squirm beneath him, feeling my own warmth as I kneel in front of him. He continues to stroke his beautiful cock and I lean up to lick the head every time I can. He grabs my head, shoving it in one more to finally cum.
It tastes incredible; thick and sweet like honey. And I am eager to drink all of it. He pulls out and shoots more and more onto my face, letting it run down my chin and over my cheeks.
The world moves in slow motion for a minute. He steps away to clean up while I sit on the couch and tremble, trying to re-button my shirt. We make small talk, but it will never cement into my brain. I redress and tell him that he still has some time, but he says that he needs to work. We make even smaller talk and I put myself back together in what feels like slow, lamenting motions. We hug and I leave.
I am shaken. I am soaked. I am his good girl.

Three tops. One bottom. Part 1.

2010-11-01T09:29:00.000-07:00

She's in red hot pants, a bra, thigh highs, and an apron. I'm in frilly blue panties and a frilly blue apron. Two hard, gorgeous butches are watching, one taking pictures.
She sat me straight up on my knees at first but eventually I spread my bent legs and lowered down to sit on the ottoman, with a bent leg on either side. My legs were each tied so that they would remain immobile, feet behind me. My arms were straight and pulled behind me, breasts separated and wrapped up in several feet of shiny blue rope. I was blindfolded and told to open my mouth, where two fingers were inserted. I began to suck, making the first gesture of proving what a perfect girl I would be for them. I would be a perfect girl for them.
The rope, a thick but soft nylon, was pulled slowly and I felt every inch slide over my tits, my legs, my throat, and cinch tightly. Fingers were removed from my mouth, which remained wide open and ready. A hard piece of gum was placed on my tongue and I began to chew. Another piece was popped in and I continued to chew, casually blowing bubbles as she pulled and tied more rope, constricting my limbs tighter and tighter.
She stroked my skin, teasing my pussy with her fingers through the rough fabric of my underwear. I squirmed under her hands, and she tipped her head up. I opened my mouth and she dripped vodka which had been soaking with raspberries for the last few hours from her mouth to mine. I swallowed and felt it burn down my throat at the same time it coated my lips in sweet, sticky juice.
With my nipples exposed, it took little time for the torture to start. She pinched, pulled, and slapped my nipples until they were red and swollen. I whimpered and yelped with every hard smack, and every time I paused she told me to blow more and more bubbles. She slapped my inner thighs, pulling my head roughly back with my hair.
Finally she pulled the gum from my mouth and placed it over my hard nipples. Over that she placed one clothespin after another, pinching and twisting and listening to me squeal. Two more pieces were shoved into my mouth as she prepped the other with her nails and fingers and mouth.
I was soaked by now. Even with my legs wide open, I could tell my clit was huge. And then I heard it. The familiar buzz of a vibrator tickled my ear.
She pulled out the other piece of gum and placed it on my other nipple, covering it with clothes pins. More gum was shoved into my mouth. I began chewing as she shoved more and more gum into my mouth. The wad was huge and my jaw began to ache. I tried to blow bubbles, and every time it became more challenging. There was so much gum I could barely breathe around it. Spit began to drip from my mouth, down over my chin, leaving tracks of blue Cotton Candy flavor bubble gum over my mouth and chin and down to my tits.
I tried harder to blow bubbles and when I couldn't she slapped me across the face. Hard. I gasped and tried to blow another one. She began to yell louder to blow as she flicked the clothespins on my nipples. I began to whimper. She took this as a sign to go hard, pinching my flesh and pushing the vibrator against my clit.
I was awash in everything that was happening to me then she pulled away and shoved the ottoman into the open L of the couch and pushed me on my back.
My legs were still cocked and bent, my ass exposed, and my arms pinned behind me.
And then came out the Saran wrap.

Having some Uncle fantasties lately....

2010-09-27T07:40:00.001-07:00

Whoops! Lots going on, so my posts are WAY behind schedule. It's ok, though, as I've been having a lot of great sex!
So.
I'm out running with my uncle. He's in town staying with us for a few days and being the only other runner in my immediate or extended family, we take jogs in the morning together. It's still early, and I'm always freezing when we leave. My nipples are so tight they ache under my t-shirt.
We finally make it out to the park where we turn around, and we've made great time so it's just barely becoming 'morning' instead of 'early morning'. Everything's still covered in dew, and our breaths still come out in frosted puffs. We usually stop here, high five, get a drink of water from the fountain and begin the sprint home.
"How are your legs feeling?" He asks. My calves are notoriously tight after a good run, and it's sweet of him to ask.
"Alright, I'm going to have to stretch them before we go back." He nods and takes another drink as I begin flexing my legs and feet, trying to relax the muscles a bit.
"Come here, let me help you."
He's walking towards the bathroom and assume he wants me up against the wall. But as I get closer, he leads me into the bathroom. I'm confused but follow him in a step or two.
As soon as I'm in he grabs he and shoves me against the sink so hard I know I'll have a bruise on my hips for days at least. He's got all his body weight on me and I can't push away from the sink. I try and slip to the side, but he grabs my arms and holds me in place. He's smaller than Daddy but much stronger, which I didn't expect.
"Stop it stop it stop it!" I yell. I know my Daddy wouldn't like this, but I don't have much of a choice right now.
His hands start to move under my shirt, and he's tugging on my sports bra roughly. I'm afraid he's going to rip it but he's much more careful- nothing that my Daddy might see when I get home.
I can feel his cock against me from behind, pushing into me. He doesn't talk, barely grunting or showing any signs that this is a struggle for him.
"If you stop struggling, it'll hurt less, but it won't turn me on as much." He finally whispers into my ear. I start to make noise and he pulls off my shirt and shoves it in my mouth, muffling any noises I make. As soon as the shirt is off, I know he sees my nipples, still hard, as he grabs them roughly, and starts to play.
I struggle against him, hard. I push and try to make him get off me. There are so many moments where I feel so close to getting free but he pulls me right back to where I am. I look up and there is a mirror directly above the sink. I look into it and watch him as he smiles, staring back at me.
He finally pushes down my pants and I try to wiggle free. He is rock hard, precum dripping onto my thighs. His fingers find my pussy and he pushes them inside, stretching me, making it ache.
"I want to know first-hand what your Daddy's been saying." He whispers, more than in control of the situation. He takes his hard on in his hand and shoves it forcefully into my twat. It hurts- Daddy usually goes a lot slower- but I don't pull away. I know it'll just hurt more, so I push back against him like I've been taught.
The worst part of all of this is I just know he'll cum inside me, and I still have to run home, feeling it dripping out of me as I run.
He keeps shoving his cock in me, harder each time. I ache, writhing underneath him and struggling as much as I can muster.
He pulls my hair hard, pulling my head back, forcing me to watch in the mirror as he stares at me, as his face tightens and gets redder. I can tell he's going to cum and I fight one more time to pull away, jerking my hips forward.
He finally cums, and I can feel it filling me. He's just barely groaning as he unloads inside me, gripping my hips so hard I feel like I'm going to be dissolved into a pile of violated parts on the tile floor.
He pulls out and just as I predicted, I can feel it dripping from inside me onto my thighs. He walks outside and I pull my clothes back together in the bathroom. I want to cry but what's the point?
When I walk outside, he's waiting for me, stretching.
"You're better than your Daddy described." He says and smiles, taking off on a run and chiding me from several feet ahead about how I'm never going to catch up at that pace.
I'm angry with myself about how much I enjoy his comment the rest of the way home.

2010-06-10T12:06:00.001-07:00

So my work crush. Good looking, smart guy, very charismatic. Last time we were out dancing and drinking, he decided to grope my ass while his girlfriend's back was turned... all very hot. So I've been jerking off thinking about him a lot.
I've been thinking about being off at a club, and the girlfriend finally decides to go home. She's huffy that he's staying out but I really don't think I could care less. The second she's gone we're grinding on each other, trying to at least make a show for the people we're there with that we're not just dancing together. We're doing a piss-poor job of it, and everyone's giving us those looks that you give two people who haven't fucked yet, but are about 15 minutes and a dark corner away.
There's a little nook tucked away that I've noticed back towards the bathroom and I tug him in that direction. He looks around to make sure the girlfriend is gone and I can't help but roll my eyes. I tug him harder and he follows.
He's been hard for a while because of the dancing and I know I'm in full control of everything that happens next. I refuse to kiss him, instead grabbing his hair and making him kiss my neck, which he does with a fervor I've rarely seen. I tell her I want it rougher, harder, and he listens, starting to bite and suck. His hands return to my ass and I pull them away, shoving him against the wall.
"I didn't tell you to fucking touch me" I growl.
He nods and pulls his hands back, going back to my neck as I grab his hair and yank his head down and hear him whimper. Such a good boy...
I open my dress and push his head to my tits, letting him suck and bite at my nipples. His tongue works over them as I pull out his rigid cock, pumping it with my hand as I free it from his pants. I hear him grown loudly, and he stops sucking momentarily.
I pull his head back, smacking him across the face. He is startled, but I can feel precum begin to drip and he jerks forward into my hand. I can tell he's never been slapped before, especially for being a pathetic, naughty little cunt. But he'll learn.
He goes back to picking my nipples, biting them harder as I egg him on. I continue to pump his cock, feeling him precum start to fill my hand. I slide down to my knees and tell him to put his hands behind his head.
He does exactly as he's told without hesitation, and I start to pump his cock into my mouth. He beings to moan loudly, and I tell him to shut the fuck up. He does as he's told and buttons his lips, only gasping and breathing hard.
He jerks forward a little and I pull back and look up at him. I see pain across his face as he feels like he can't do anything right, but wants to so badly. I smile and suck his cock harder, pulling more and more of him into my mouth. I pump my mouth over and over, sucking him in, feeling his drip into my throat. He pushes harder, and I being to stroke his balls. I tease them, pulling the skin, stretching it and then slapping hard. I smack harder as I suck harder, flicking and pounding as I draw him deeper into my throat.
I finally pull back and tell him not to cum, that I want him to cum inside me. I continue to suck but know he can't hold on much longer. He's trying so hard, which I like.
I'm looking forward to rewarding him, letting him know he's been a very, very good boy for me. I finally pull back, his cock covered in my saliva, glistening. I tell him to sit, and he does. I pull my panties to the side and straddle him, sliding down on his cock until it's buried in my pussy.
I begin to ride him, pumping up and down on his cock. I pound faster, arching and grinding as I raise and lower my hips.
"Hands. Back of the head." I command, slapping him again. He gasps, and I grind harder, leaning back and rubbing my fingers furiously over my clit.
He feels amazing inside me and I know I'm about to cum hard, all over his lap.
"Fucking cum for me. 5. 4. 3." I pause and he moans, almost whimpering. He wants to explode. "2." He is ready, wanting. "1. Cum. Now."
He groans and bucks, almost throwing me off. I cum all over his cock, squeezing it with my cunt. He cums so hard inside me I can feel it filling it, spilling out.
He begins to gasp and I gently take his arms down, kissing his mouth softly.
He opens his mouth again to speak and I put two fingers over his lips and smile. "See you Monday?"
He nods in response, and I kiss him again, longer, deeper, feeling him breathe hard against my lips.
"See you Monday."
A.

The Couple

2010-05-24T18:54:00.001-07:00

So girlfriend and I met a couple. We've been trying to have sex with a straight couple for a while, and nothing's come to fruition yet for various reasons. We did meet a couple socially, though, who we have great chemistry with. Now we're trying to figure out how to trick them into a foursome. Fingers crossed!
But until that happens, this will have to suffice:
They're over for dinner (I think I'd poach some fish, and I'm really into blanched asparagus right now... something along those lines). And we're plying them with alcohol. They already know we're poly, but we haven't brought up much of the kink or group sex. Everyone loves the food, and loves the alcohol even more.
Eventually it comes up: how do you just not have jealousy that the person you love is with someone else? So we tell them that of course there's some jealousy, but blah blah blah... lets us just show you. Girlfriend and wife are next to each other and girlfriend tells wife to kiss her. She blushes and gets shy for the first time that night. I smile at wife, and tell her to go ahead, it's ok.
Wife and girlfriend kiss. Tentative turns intense and tongues begin to slide over lips, hands find necks, and eyelids flutter. I love watching Girlfriend kiss her, and I can already feel my clit swelling. I know as soon as Wife enjoys it, Husband will be in like Flynn. I can't stop watching them, though. Cute, prim Wife and hot butch Girlfriend.
Finally they pull away and we ask her how it was. She blushes, getting more flustered. And we tell Wife to kiss Husband. They do, and it's pleasant enough, and we discuss the two kisses. I can tell Husband is already hard, and the growing bulge in his pants is making it harder for me.
I announce that I'm clearly a bit left out of this mix, and it's not fair that I don't get a kiss. He gets excited, but I move to Wife, sliding a hand into her hair and pulling her mouth to mine. I flick my tongue over her teeth, teasing her a bit with my mouth. My hand starts to inch towards his thigh and finally my pinky feels the fabric of his pants. His leg moves towards my hand, and all I want is to feel his swollen cock.
Things begin slow, with kissing and trading, and eventually clothes start moving. I won't bore you with the interim parts, suffice to say everyone is groping and kissing.
I finally settle on him. I straddle his lap on the couch, grinding my pussy into his hard on. My dress is up around my waist and his hands are on my hips, pulling me harder down onto him. His shirt is long gone, and I begin biting his neck and chest. I find a nipple with my teeth and tongue and feel his fingertips digging into my flesh. I can feel his cock through his pants and my panties, and the heat is unbearable.
Sitting net to us is wife and girlfriend. Girlfriend sees him grinding into me and takes the opportunity to push up Wife's skirt. I can see how soaked her panties are, as she clearly flooded them a while ago, and watch as her hips move forward. Girlfriend, ever the tease, pulls them down slowly, letting her soaked pussy catch a bit of the air. It's crisp against her clit and she tries to close her legs. Girlfriend holds them open, pushing them wider before kneeling between them. She begins with a finger, teasing wife's lips before rubbing her clit with the pad of her thumb. Wife moans loudly and grinds against her thumb, dripping wetness into the back of her skirt.
I open his pants and pull out his cock. I stand and drop my panties to the floor. I want his cock to fill me. Now. I climb on top of him, thighs spread and cunt soaked. As Girlfriend leans forward and begging to lick Wife's clit, I lower myself down onto him, taking the head, then the shaft, inside me. He moans and bucks up, but I pull back. This needs to be slow. I want his cock to feel every fucking inch of me. I lower myself agonizingly slow. And when it feels like days have passed, I settle myself into his lap, cock swallowed to the hilt. And then I begin to grind.
He grinds back, moaning, pushing up against me in jagged jerks and pumps. He loves to fuck, and i hold his shoulders, making sure I keep my own rhythm as I begin to rub my clit. I arch back so he can see, and he holds my ass. I finally grab Wife's hand and pull it to my clit, letting her fingers rub viciously. I begin to buck harder against him as she works her fingers, desperately pushing against Girlfriend's mouth.
I hear Girlfriend move, and feel her hands on my back. She whispers in my ear and I nod, turning to kiss her with Wife's juices still on her lips. I stand, winking at Husband, as he winces at the loss of my pussy. After a bit of readjusting, we make husband lie on his back, and I crawl above him. I slowly lower my head and begin to suck his swollen cock. I can taste myself and his precum with every lick, and I suck everything off heartily. He immediately begins bucking into my mouth and I know he doesn't have long before he'll cum.
On all fours, I point my ass into the air. I feel wife's hands on my thighs and calves. Her fingers are small, and her touch is cautious. But it is her tongue I'm looking for. I feel her tongue begin to wind its way to my ass, and her fingers to my cunt.
And she begins to lick. I feel her tongue working its way around my ass as her fingers start to slide into me, pumping quickly. I love being fingered, if you couldn't tell.
Not to be left out, Girlfriend has two fingers in Wife's pussy, and one in her ass. Wife begins to writhe, pushing back against Girlfriend's hand, and swallowing her fingers up.
I can taste it as he begins to cum. I feel it hot and squirting into my throat, and swallow it by the mouthful. His cum tastes sincere, and I love how it feels my mouth.
Wife squirts when she cums, leaving a puddle on our floor. It drips down her inner thighs, and she looks mortified to have cum so hard all over the floor. I relish her embarrassment and ache to lick her clean.
Now go jerk off.

Appendix:
Poached Halibut with Saffron Orange Aioli

I think it's a girl's turn, sort of.

2010-01-29T15:56:00.000-08:00

I know, I know. I haven't been updating. But soon, cross my heart, I'm going to have more time soon and this is going to be updated all the damn time.
Before I forget, I wanted to mark a particular experience which I absolutely loved.
My girlfriend and I were at Summer Camp (Dark Odyssey, if you haven't heard of it, it's worth a look) and it was after a GREAT group sex scene that eventually won a camp prize (Best Group Scene! Fantastic!) and decided to run off on our own. I told her that I a) wanted to strip b) wanted to do it in public and c) wanted to top her. Yahtzee!
We went to the peep show, an area of camp where there were little nooks a little bigger than a queen sized bed with a nice little stage on the inside and all plastic curtains around it, so you can gather a rather good sized audience into the mix, and acknowledge them if you like. I was dressed in a nice cheerleader uniform, and told her to sit on the edge of the stage. She has now perfected the "Nice young guy who's never had a lap dance before" routine, and we've used it quite effectively.
I began to dance for her, stripping, with a nice, slow, grinding lap dance. We couldn't hear any music, but it seemed to work quite nicely. I had her laid down and danced over her, moving up and walking so she could see directly up my skirt and I squatted down, pulling my panties aside so my pussy was directly over her mouth. She moaned, and I could feel her breath on my clit.
That's usually enough to get me soaked. I kept dancing for her, moving over her, and slowly dropping one item after another until I was naked, save a pair of high heels. I kept grinding on her, shaking my tits and ass inches from her face, feeling her so, so close.
I finally pulled her hands up and open, telling her there was no fucking way she would ever touch me. I don't let dirty pieces of shit at strip clubs who are just there to jerk off touch me. She nodded, gulping, and obeying every word. I told her she was a dirty waste of cum, and if I fucked her, I would be less of a person. I wouldn't be able to respect myself if I touched a fucking sleeze like her.
I kept dancing, unzipping her pants and pulling them down just enough to pull out her cock. I kneeled over her, down on all fours. I stroked her cock, pulling out one of the condoms which was sticking out of her pockets. I turned around and asked if she thought I was a whore, if she assumed I would fuck some dick just because I was a stripper? She said no, but I slapped her anyway. She nodded, begging for forgiveness.
I relented, turning again and sliding the condom onto her cock. I sucked the head, jerking it into my mouth. I kept rocking my ass to her face, arching up so she could see my wet pussy. Her hips moved up to my hand, to my mouth. But she was good, held her head back. She know I would get up and leave as soon as she broke the rules.
I danced over her cock, shifting back and forth for her. I listened to her moan, and finally stood, turning and sitting back down - squarely on her cock. She slid inside me and I started to ride her, rocking and rolling my hips over her cock and she ground back up against me, fucking me as hard as I was fucking her.
I played with my nipples, rolling them in my fingers and then leaning down and licking them. My boots still on, I pulled my legs up and moved from sitting on my knees to a squat, getting her deeper inside me, and at a new angle, feeling her cock so deep inside me.
After riding her for a few minutes I felt a little belt hit my back. I was confused but ignored it. Turns out one of the presenters -read: one of the professionals- at Camp had thrown some change at us, because she was loving our show. It was a lovely little moment.
I finally stood, climbing up and walking a foot or so up before lowering myself over her mouth. I grabbed her head, pulling it up for her to lick my wet pussy. Her tongue was all over my clit, and I arched against her mouth. She licked and sucked on my clit, covering her mouth, chin, face with my cum. I felt her tongue inside me, on me. She sucked my clit into her mouth, and her teeth grazed the sides. I was grinding on her so hard I almost came.
When I knew I was so, so close, I pulled back and waited, gathered my breath to slide back down and sit back on her cock and started to fuck her painfully hard. I felt her cock so deep inside me it absolutely ached, but I was relentless on how hard I fucked her. Her hands remained exactly where I put them, but I could see them tensing as she knew I was ready to cum.
I bucked hard, tightening my pussy and cumming, screaming, all over her cock. I collapsed, barely breathing, absolutely spent on top of her. I kissed her cheek and ended our scene, a whole troupe of people watching. They scattered, realizing that a) there was no more fucking and b) this was just two people in love who are absolute whores comforting each other in an oddly private moment.
anyway. Sorry for the delay! Updates soon! XOXO.

Get free, kinky stuff

2009-12-21T09:15:00.000-08:00

Sit on Sant's kinky lap. And then grind.

There's a creepy guy next to me. FYI.

2009-10-01T10:25:00.000-07:00

At the moment I'm sitting in a Cosi in downtown Boston. Dear Downtown Boston. I know you're entirely comprised of white collar professionals, but can you give me something slightly more interesting than a Cosi for wifi and food? Anything.
So while I'm on it, I thought I would relive some of camp.
Girlfriend and I decided to pick up a boy. He's really sweet, does good work, and he's from the South, so he's got a lovely accent. Oh, and he's hot, so that's always a plus.
I saw him the first or second night, but it took until the last day (well, and her to actually go over and say something) before we actually got his attention. We had amassed a small crew to go play Spin the Bottle at the pool (yep. Everyone's an adult and we bailed on a party to play spin the bottle. Life is -so- good.) and picked up a few stragglers along the way.
You know how spin the bottle is played. I got to kiss the boys and girls I wanted (including the one I have a crush on... who wasn't even playing... and watch Girlfriend kiss him... lovely!) and eventually we decided to break this shit down. It turned into truth or dare. And then Truth or Dare: The Drinking Game. And then Dares: Drinks lots of alcohol. We're not that creative. So the game involved writing dares and having them stuffed into Girlfriend's back pocket, then we would each reach into her back pocket, take a dare, and do it. It started out where I gave a long, lingering lap dance to the boy. And it's sex camp.. er... conference, so I was down to panties pretty damn quickly, straddling and grinding... like you do.
There were more dares, there was more drinking, and then the boy had to jerk off in front of us. To which we all commented that we had put that dare in the pocket... and then we realized that there were at least 4 different "jerk off in front of everyone" dares. Now, let me just refresh that this was the prologue. After this fantastic ice breaker, we told him to meet us later at an event and we would hang out.
And. Of course he met us. We talked for a few minutes and then decided to go back to our cabin for... something? I think more alcohol. (I was swigging really bad gin and then chasing it with trail mix... cause it's camp... on multiple levels) I sat down on the bed and he was soon to follow while Girlfriend went into the bathroom. We started kissing and immediately he proved he was going to live up to calling himself a top. He grabbed me and started throwing me around like a rag doll, tossing me on my stomach and back all over the bed as he kissed me, pulling at my clothes.
We finally settled into a position where I was on my back with my legs up in the air in a nice L shape. He pulled at my panties and pushed up my dress and I was soaked- pussy absolutely glistening. His fingers rubbed my clit and I could see him unzipping his pants and pulling out his already swollen cock. I was, of course, no less than overjoyed.
I laid my head back, let it hang off the bed just enough to see Girlfriend standing, watching him getting ready to fuck me. I stared at her, watching her face intently as he spread my legs and shoved his cock inside me. I watched her face change and I could only imagine how mine did as well. He was big, and fittingly, I was tight. His hands gripped my ankles and pushed back my legs all the way to my chest.
He started fucking me harder and I closed my eyes, focusing on tightening my pussy around his thick cock. I pushed back against him, begging him to fuck me harder and harder. He slammed inside me, his fingers finding my clit between us.
When I opened my eyes she was closer, watching as his cock pulled almost all the way out before pounding back inside me. The boy was wanton and aggressive and I couldn't love it more. I could feel my pussy tightening even harder around his cock as I wanted to cum.
He pushed my legs back further and my pussy arched up to meet him, meet every thrust. He was so deep inside me, I would have believed him taking up residence. I ached. I fucked. I came.
Panting.
When I looked up again she was smiling down on me and I was in love all over again. She stroked my hair as he pulled out of me, spent as well. It was about then that I realized there was another person in the room who had watched the whole event (the cabin was a wide open room of about 20 other people with a large closet in the middle) and she came over, sitting on the bed with the three of us to just be a part of the moment, which was absolutely lovely. I do love sharing my post orgasm glow with strangers.
Anyway. Cosi's going to kick me out soon. Ta.

Lets get people up in arms

2009-09-30T06:17:00.000-07:00

Alright. I've fucked up already and missed a post yesterday. I'll try and make up for it by enjoying this one.
New fantasy. Looking to make happen at some point. Is there a service or something that can help me with this? I'm guessing Craigslist would be a bad idea for this one.
Anyway. Frat party. I'm dancing. I've been dancing for a while and have stripped down to a skirt, panties, bra, and heels. The night has moved from just dancing and stripping to lap dances (whee!).
There's a lovely frat boy (we can call him Mike, because I call all frat guys Mike for whatever reason) and he's enjoying it thoroughly, but is trashed, and I have a suspicion he wants to break the cardinal rule of lap dances - get your fucking hands off me. His friends are cheering him on and I'm grinding against him, my hips moving against his jeans as I feel him grinding back against me, feel him getting hard underneath me. This only makes me grind against him harder, teasing him with my hips.
I turn, straddling his lap, arching my tits into his face. He bites his bottom lip, chewing it, holding onto the chair as the guys around him cheer him on. His hands start to creep up and I look him in the face, shaking my head and continuing. They move a little further to my hips and I push his hands away.
The guys around him start to get a little more riled up as they notice me push him away. This can only go badly from here. With the support of his brothers, he gets a little more aggressive and I push him away a little more. He pleads a little with his eyes as his hands start to sneak between my legs and up my skirt. I stop dancing to more aggressively push him away and I try and get up off his lap. They're yelling that I want it and to grab me and he pulls his hands back, apologizing and asking me not to stop.
I relent, knowing this is probably a bad idea, but I keep dancing on his lap, feeling him rise me meet my pussy. This is when I realize how wet I already am. He's a good looking guy, clean cut with lingering eyes, and it's not that I don't want his hands there, but there are more than a few guys whose hands I don't want and I can't set that precedent.
He grabs my hips one more time and I stop, looking at him and putting my hands on his shoulders to stand and climb off of him. I've made more money than I anticipated and my night here is done. He grabs my waist and pulls me back down. I tell him to let me go and he looks me directly in the eyes. I tell him to let me go again and his friends start to inch closer, egging him on. He holds me, unsure what to do, waiting for me to make a move as I wait for him to make a move.
Finally someone else grabs my arm tightly, hurting my bicep as I fight against them. Someone else grabs another arm and they pull me back, off of him. I can't catch my legs underneath me quick enough and another one comes around me, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulls me back. I struggle, staring at Mike, hoping he'll step up and pulls his friends back.
He does nothing of the sort, but instead gets up and begins to open his belt. I fight against their hands as they pull me back and hold me against the floor, yanking off my skirt. Once on the floor it takes everything to struggle anymore. They pull off the rest of my underwear and it's not apparent how wet I am, confirming how much I did, in fact, want it.
Mike, the first one, takes his time getting down between my legs and in one quick thrust is inside me, fucking me. He's shoved all the way inside me, stretching my pussy as he thrusts faster, in harsh, haggard jolts. He wants to cum and is already so close, but with the alcohol and all his friends around he struggles, squeezing me tightly. It takes him only a few more angry thrusts, but he cums inside me, filling me.
This is when the rest of them decide to seize the opportunity. Me being the opportunity. They pull me up and another one decides to start fucking me, slapping me as he goes. They're still holding my arms behind me so it's even harder to struggle. I don't know who does it but I feel a finger slip into my ass and I whimper. It's the first noise of submission I've made all night and I wish I could take it back.
They fuck me, one by one, pushing and pulling me around, biting, slapping, twisting me in ways I didn't know were of interest, but apparently... It is a wicked gang bang and I am left; spent, sweaty, bloody, exhausted, and used.
Fuck. Yes.

Dear Stephen Ambrose, please include things like this.

2009-09-26T17:07:00.000-07:00

So this would be part fantasy, part recollection. Historical fiction, I guess would be an appropriate term.
I'm at a party. Which automatically means I've been drinking. It's a traditional house party, with awkward friends of friends and a mess of accidental hookups. People are spilling into the backyard, into the bedrooms, and there are very few limits because in some context, everyone kind of knows everyone.
There is, of course, a friend of a friend (of a friend?) who I don't know, but she's cute. Full hips and ass, narrow shoulders, lush mess of dirty blonde waves. She's probably in her late twenties (I was 20 at this point, so imagine me even more doe eyed). And I think she likes me. We've been bumping into each other all night but have yet to have the full "I met this great person last night at Dave's party" conversation. But it seemed almost inevitable at this point.
I was, as I usually am, a friend of a friend. I do well at parties, but my friends rarely are the kind who throw them. But yet, here I was oscillating around some pleasant girl. We bumped into each other while I was having a cigarette outside, then again by the couch in the living room where someone was playing a video game and I didn't know where else to go, so I assumed that the non speaking, passive role was going to work for at least 15 minutes or so.
It wasn't until things were completely winding down that we got to have the longer conversation. A good number of people were sleeping over and we had already taken over the couch in the basement by plopping down on either side and extending our legs while she told me about her grad program. The basement was small, and there was really no other place to collapse down there, leaving the room solely to us.
I'm actually a fairly shy person, and so I'm almost never going to be the one to make the first move. I'm generally going to need to be kissed first, or at least touched first, and so only bad things happen when I'm with another shy person. On the grand scheme of things, she would have been more in the normal category, so less shy than me but still no one was making a move. The combination of my legs touching hers and the half dozen drinks I had, though, were making me fucking wet. I could feel my nipples scraping the inside of my bra already and I started to twitch my legs a little just to rub them against hers. Casually. I'm big on the "is this intentional?" flirting. That's actually about all I can do.
It took her a while but FINALLY she put her hand on my leg, rubbing it softly, fingers trailing up to my knee and back down, then back around the calf. It was another tipsy move on her part as the finesse of the whole thing was something to be desired, but none the less. I was a young little thing and it was enough to turn my crank hard. I could already feel myself so soaking wet and this was enough touch to drive me insane. I didn't know what to do to let me know I wanted to eat her out more than anything.
I yawned. This was not the intended move on my part to show my interest, but it was so late and I was still tipsy. She smiled and told me to come snuggle with her. She scooted down on the couch and I crawled up into the nook make between her arm and her body. This was close enough, I was tired. We talked for a few minutes and she finally tuned to me and I lifted my face to see her.
"You're really pretty."
"Thank you."
"I mean, I think you're really sexy."
JACKPOT. I smiled at her compliments and brushed rose, I'm sure and she finally leaned down and kissed me. I kissed her back with a naive 20 year old's fervor to kiss; with an aggressive, wanton lack of polish sitting on my lips. She kissed with more subtlety, her tongue making lace patterns on my lips and tongue. Her hand found my lower back and slipped under the hem of my shirt, so I could feel her fingers pulsing against my skin, tightening and then releasing, pulling me to straddle her thigh.
I did as she instructed and shifted so she could lay underneath me. Her other hand landed on my lower back as well and after a few more minutes I could sense her actively pulling my hips against her. I would never have thought of fighting her, and my hips went where she led, rocking hard against her thigh, which pushed back against me, trying to push denim against cotton, against clit. I whimpered a little into her mouth and she smiled, fingers starting to sneak into the back of my jeans.
I was soaked, already prepared for my jeans to bear the growing circle of evidence.
It was at this point where we heard the door open and a step taken. I froze, going limp on top of her body, hands being pulled to a respectful place. Our eyes slid shut and I nuzzled back down a little. We heard a few more footsteps and someone craning down to see if the couch was already taken, which it was by two sleeping girls. The footsteps retracted and the door was shut once again.
We smiled, which turned to giggles and the moment was already so far gone we know there was no reclaiming.
"You sleepy?" I nodded, her hands starting to rub my back. "Me too." She kissed the top of my head and laid back, arm still softly stroking the small of my back.
I fell asleep, though I have no idea how long. It happened easily enough and I assumed that she had, too. I woke to a bit of a jarring rhythm. I was asleep enough to still not move, though my eyes dragged themselves open. I could feel her moving underneath me. I slightly twitched my head and the movements froze. I tried to pretend I was still asleep, not wanting to disturb her but she was paralyzed. I shifted my eyes down just slightly and saw what she had been doing and was now hiding. Her jeans were open and her hand was wrist deep inside them. I froze as well, praying there was a chance she thought I was still asleep.
There must have been at least a question in her mind, as she didn't even flinch to remove her hand. I stopped before moving again, my hand moving up and to her waistband. She was frozen, more not knowing what to do than anything else, I imagine. I slip my hand into her jeans, under the waist of her panties, and right next to her hand, which still had her fingers firmly on her throbbing clit. I could feel her pulse in her pussy.
I started to move my fingers over her, making her gasp from surprise. Her fingers shifting to give me full access to her, but pulling the waist of her jeans tight across my fore arm, restricting what I could do. I rubbed her clit in circles, flicking it back and forth with the pads of my fingers.
She squirmed and I finally felt by her panties just how soaked she was, and realized just how long she had been wet. She pulled her hand out of her pants and tugged down her jeans, but left her underwear in a token of modesty. My hand moved underneath them, working a finger and then two inside of her.
I arched my thumb up to rub her clit and she responded immediately, whimpering behind tightly pursed lips, trying not to arouse anyone who may be in the house. Her hips rocked up, arching against my hand as I didn't even inch my head away from where it lay on her chest.
Her arm was already wrapped around my shoulders and resting on my back, but now her fingers tensed, slightly pinching me through my shirt in a way which could only be described as desperate and without purpose. My leg, slung over hers casually now pinned her to the couch, holding her left leg down while the other was free to bent and arch and open, though all of these moments were little more than subtle.
She fucked my fingers. Faster and harder, she arched up against my hand, forcing me to grind into her, which I did without hesitation. I could feel her pussy pulling me in deeper, squeezing my fingers together and then releasing. I spread my fingers as she tensed, pushing back against her, stretching her just a little.
She finally let out a moan and bucked up once more, cumming, drenching my hand, her panties, and leaving the faintest of wet spots on the couch below. I waited and then pulled my hand out of her panties, letting her pull her jeans back up and readjusting my head on her chest, yawning, and not waiting long before I fell back asleep in silence.

In praise of Girlfriend

2009-09-25T09:12:00.000-07:00

So I may have been a bit biased, but for a very, very long time I didn't believe in female ejaculation. It just seemed mythic, though I bet a lot of people felt that way about the female orgasm. I have had multiple people try and dissuade me, including my best friend who set me up on his laptop with tab after tab from xtube of woman being turned into beautiful little fountains of... fluid, I don't even know. This weekend (did I mentioned we just got back from sex camp.. er.. conference?) I saw, first hand, that I was mistaken in my belief.
So that's a preface which should give you some direction as to where this story is going.
Last night I was supposed to meet some friends at a bar around the corner from her place and she was getting frustrated at the office and wanted a break before powering through. So we decided to quickly meet up and fuck as fast as we could before we took off on our respective evening activities. I got to the apartment first and decided to do some prep work and so I quickly started masturbating. You know how everyone has that just right place or touch that always gets them going and when a quick 2 minute orgasm is needed, you just know where to go and what to do? I hit that and pulled back three or four times. After knowing I was ready to go, I kind of rolled onto my side and half fell asleep so when she came up to the bedroom, I was sufficiently drowsy. I fucked her first, but that's her story, not mine to tell.
She sat down on the bed to the side of me and I realized that I was not just wet, I was drenched all the way to my ass. I took her hand and rather gleefully slid her fingers over my clit, and down, saying "see how wet I am? See how far it went?"
Taking the opportunity, her finger started to slide into my ass and she looked up at me, asking "did it go this far?" She went a little deeper and I moved against her hand, "how about this far?" Let me take this moment to point out that I, generally, don't have a plan when I say or do things. We have had multiple conversations on this and for the most part, I don't have ulterior motives. And while I didn't have one for this, I was terribly appreciative.
This is where she pulled out her cock. For whatever reason, I was really tight when she started and so I could feel every inch of her cock slide into my pussy; feel it stretching until I was pulsing my pussy around her. She started to fuck me, slowly at first, her finger still in my ass, and I heard her growl in a half whisper "Take it for me babygirl". I almost lost it right then and there.
With my pussy and ass full and aching, she started sucking on my clit. I showed her my little secret spot and she just let her tongue loose over it. When I say she makes me squirm, I don't think that gives the full impact of what she can do to me, and what she does to me. She makes me absolutely whimper and moan and cry and writhe with her tongue.
She started fucking me faster, and I opened my legs to accommodate her cock, letting her fuck me harder, deeper than I've felt her inside me before. With her mouth on my clit, her cock inside my pussy, and her finger inside my ass, all working me, all stretching me in ways I didn't know I could stretch, I was absolutely dying to cum but trying my hardest to draw it out. To this end, I begged her to slap me. She got up on her knees, mouth soaking from my pussy and started slapping me hard across the face. "You better cum for me, babygirl." She smacked me over and over, her fingers stinging and my own cum streaking my cheek. She fucking had me.
She went back to my pussy, and that's when I heard it. She squealed. The cutest high pitch squeal, too. From my absolutely fucking hot, butch girlfriend. It was cute. But the point aside from 'my girlfriend squeals now and then and it's adorable' is that I am, in fact, capable of squirting. And I did it.
Anyway, she was fucking me within an inch of my life and sanity and I lost it, I came bucking and crying out- definitely loud enough to let the neighbors know that we are, again having sex. Again. And to let them know that it's goood sex. (Thanks Girlfriend.)
Drinks were fun. Got tacos on the way home. And apparently a Luna bar, which I magically found in my purse this morning.
But long story short, I can squirt, and Girlfriend is amazing.

Thanks, Kashi

2009-09-24T04:06:00.001-07:00

I promise I'm not going to talk about what I'm eating or cooking at the moment every time I do one of these, but I'm having some fantastic granola right now. Thanks Kashi!
At sex camp, Girlfriend and I met a fantastic couple who we're both dying to fuck. I've had an incredibly long, drawn out fantasies regarding the he in this scenario more than once in the last few days. I don't really know his vibe yet, but I'm not looking to commit to a top/bottom fantasy at this point. I just want to fuck him, er, have him fuck me. He's absolutely gorgeous, and one of the nicest, most wholesome (comparatively, I mean, I met him at a sex camp), and genuinely nice people you're ever going to meet. And I want him to absolutely defile me. (And recently married. Congrats!) Also, I should mention that at the moment, I've got such a hard on for trans guys it's a little ridiculous.
We start at a party. I don't even realize he's there at first and I find a nice butch to cuddle up to. I'm straddling her lap, kissing her and making her look up at me to do so. Her hands are on my ass, gripping, pulling me into her while her mouth peaks upward to catch mine. I put my hand into her hair and pull her head back hard, making her whimper, to which I tell her to shut the fuck up. She nods, breathing faster, and I release her hair, letting her only kiss my neck, which she does furiously. This is when I look up and see him; watching me top her.
He doesn't say a word but we can't stop looking at each other. I start to feel my clit swell and I buck hard against her, feeling her fingers respond by gripping my ass harder. I watch his breathing change, getting a little deeper and I respond by reaching up and taking her throat in my hand, pushing her back a little and riding her crotch slowly. It's part fuck, part tease. I see his hand trail down to his cock, over his clothes, and not entirely within his control.
I look back down at her as her hands start to weaken and slap her face, telling her to pay attention, but i can tell she thinks something's up.
I turn back to her, kissing her mouth roughly and pulling her hair, I'm even more aggressive now that I think about him watching me top her. Any other time I'd be absolutely high from topping this fucking gorgeous butch but right now all I want is for him to come over and rip me off of her, pin me down and fuck me til I scream. But when I look back up for him, he's gone. Asshole!
Luckily this is one of those congeneal play parties that involve dinner and hanging out, so the next time I see him, I'm a seat or two down and across the table with him at a restaurant. I'm trying not to look at him too much. His wife's next to him and Girlfriend's next to me but we're both only half engaged in each conversation.
Out of the corner of my eye, I finally see him move. I catch his eyes and he nods to me very slightly, and then towards the bathroom. I smile and turn back to the conversation, nodding as I look away. I'm holding my breath as he gets up and walks towards the back. I wait for a moment or two, chest tight, already soaking wet, clit so swollen it feels like it's going to pop and I'm just going to flood with my own cum. I get up and the cold air of the restaurant hits under my skirt and makes my clit ache even more. I walk quickly back towards the bathroom and he's standing outside of one and grabs me, kissing first my mouth but then immediately my neck and shoulder, hands on my ass, mine going to his hair to pull his mouth closer, harder against me. I can feel his cock pushing into my stomach and I reach between us to grab it through his jeans. He arches against me and shoves me into the women's bathroom. The second the door is shut we're at it again, my ass against the sink, his hand pulling my hair back, his teeth grazing and then biting my throat so hard I know it's going to leave a mark that neither of us will be able to hide from.
He pulls up my skirt and my panties are soaked, my inner thighs wet. As he strokes me over the fabric I can feel him straining against me, ready to fuck me. I bend my left knee and pull it up, carling my back so he can see me, how wet I am already. He pulls down my panties and gets down on his knees, licking me immediately, harder than I anticipated. I didn't want to make noise but the second he does it my toes curl and I cry out. His tongue curls around my clit and teases it. Sucks it. Nibbles it. I am high from the feeling.
I beg him to fuck me as I arch forward. I whimper and plead with him but his mouth is still full of my pussy. Finally he gets up and pushes me back, pulling his cock out of his pants. I spread my legs and slams inside of me. My legs go around him as he starts to fuck me, pulling my hair, biting my neck, scratching and shoving me back against the sink. He is fucking me harder than I could have dreamed of, and my hand shoves between us to rub my clit hard and fast. As I start to whimper, barely cry out his hand goes over my mouth. I can't e trusted not to scream, it's probably better. Finally he pulls out and I hop off the sink, turning around and bending over. His fingers replace mne on my clit and he fucks me from behind, kicking my legs open to get deeper inside me. I start to whimper again and he grabs my hair, the fingers that were on my clit are now in my mouth, quietting me. I rub my clit feircely as I can feel my orgasm building fast. My clit is burning from the friction but I can't stop and work my fingers faster, as his cock fucks me harder. I cum, wailing against his hand which is so tight over my mouth I'm afraid I may never breathe again. I push back hard against him as my legs tremble and I shudder with waves of unwasted tension and release. I collapse against the sink, breathing hard. We stand and I fix my hair, my makeup, my clothes. He watches me and kisses my neck when I'm recovered.
I imagine I'd be having a green curry with papaya salad for dinner. HA! Got the food in!

Purple Asses and Vegetables

2009-09-23T16:35:00.000-07:00

So here's the situation: I don't bruise. I just came back from BDSM sex camp (or a sex conference, as I was corrected once) and everyone had these beautiful, beautiful deep purple and wine colored bruises all over their legs and asses. Well, at least all the subs were. And I, of course, have an ass that doesn't bruise. After 60 (because my girlfriend sucks at math and made me count by 3s, which means she didn't realize that I had hit 55 and instead we went to 60...) -hard- smacks with a paddle, after a tall, strong (gorgeous) 20-something guy spanked me until he had to double check with Girlfriend that it was ok, I have NOTHING to show for the effort.
To keep everyone abreast of things, I have just cut and salted some beautiful eggplant that I intend to saute with squash and peppers. I'm not sure what else I'm going to make with it, or why I would opt to eat dinner at 9pm when I've been home since 6:45 but this seems beside the point. Point: I have, until tonight, never made eggplant before.
Last night was the first serious commitment for Girlfriend and I for her to seriously beat my ass. We'd been topping and bottoming all day via text (we're so 21 century) and so she was going to work late and I was going to have a drink with a friend. I was instructed to be home at 10 and to enter, pour her a scotch and go up to the bedroom. Once there, I was to take off my pants and get on all fours on the bed facing the mirror. (There's a large mirror next to the bed.)
I -of course- fucked up. 10:01. It wasn't my fault, though, the bartender was taking forever to run my card and pay for drinks. (I literally told my friend to buy me a drink next time because I couldn't wait to sort out the credit card/cash situation.) But even though I practically ran, I was a minute late. I prayed that the oven clock was a minute or two faster than her laptop clock. I poured the scotch and ran my poor ass upstairs, peeled off my jeans and hopped onto the bed where she made me wait, driving me absolutely insane. It took her forever to come up stairs where I was blindfolded and berated for my tardiness, though both were absolutely expected and deserved.
This is when she started beating my ass. I've already spoiled the surprise, but it was the first time she had used a paddle, and I wasn't sure of what it was from the feel. While she does have a strong hand, it felt a bit bigger and hit harder. I had to count in 7s, then 2s, and then of course 3s where I received 10, and then 20, and then 30 licks with the paddle. I was absolutely trembling, my arms collapsing underneath me more than once. The pain was, to be trite, exquisite. The sting wasn't as intense as the crop or the cane that she uses, but it was a fantastic, powerful smack. (FYI, I actually prefer less sting, as it means I can go quite a bit longer.)
On a side note, it should have been 10, 20, 25, but for all Girlfriend's amazing qualities, apparently multiples of 3 is not a forte, as I reached 75 and she had me keep counting. It wasn't until I pointed it out later that night that she realized.
After 60, though, I was barely able to stay up. Pain radiated from my ass to the backs of my thighs, up my back. It felt numb and burned at the same time; my body tingled. I couldn't even focus on my clit as I couldn't get beyond the fact of my own pain and how absolutely complex it felt. This was when Girlfriend called for a break, pulling off the blindfold and letting me collapse in the fetal position and I couldn't help but start to cry. Never having made me cry, this was too much for her and she called it a night. Yup! I make my tops safeword!
The most interesting part about it was that I was soaking wet. I hadn't been thinking about my own wetness or pleasure the way I usually do... all the time. My head was solely focussed on the pain. It wasn't until I put my hand between my legs that I realized how dripping wet I actually was. Once we regrouped she verbally degraded me while making me fuck myself for her entertainment. Absolutely wonderful orgasm, though I told her that I would have cum harder had her fingers been inside me as well. But you live and learn!
I sported the most intense welt I've ever seen, bright red and horribly swollen. A full day later it still aches to sit on the right side of my ass. BUT. No bruise. We now have a very clear goal: purple.
Will keep you updated on progress of bruises; eggplant.