Monthly Archives: October 2013

Domination Calling

“Do you like that, slut?”  His voice was soft, deep with a rough edge to it.  I could hear his breathing, heavy and uneven.

“Yes.” I panted into my headset.  My hands were far too occupied to hold my cell phone.

“You like it when you fuck yourself in the ass, don’t you whore?” His voice was trembling slightly.  I could hear his excitement and it fueled mine.  His arousal reached across the distance between us and scorched my skin.

“Yes.” I gasped, barely able to hold back the moans long enough to answer. “Oh god, oh fuck yes!”  My hand pumped the plug into my ass, my body writhing as my excited pussy oozed moisture everywhere.  My other hand was gripping the headboard with white knuckles.  It was the only thing maintaining separation between that hand and my hungry clit.

“Good girl.” He said, fighting to maintain control of himself.  “Now, pinch your clit. Hard.”

I did as he commanded, my sounds serving as confirmation of my obedience.  “Good,” he breathed raggedly, “Very good.”

I couldn’t stand it.  I needed to cum.  I needed to finger my clit, to plunge something, anything, into my pussy.  It had been almost an hour.  Pinching, pulling, teasing, his voice the strings that dictated the movements of my erotic dance.  He had brought me to the edge and let me teeter there, listening to me as I breathed, moaned, cried out to maintain my balance.

“Please.”  The words left me as a whisper but ended as a groan.  It was all I could manage.  It is hard to talk when your body is on fire.  I could feel the tears in the corner of my eyes as I heard the primal need in my own voice.

“Please what, whore?” He prompted.

“I need to touch my clit! Please!”  I struggled to speak.  I didn’t care if I sounded pathetic.  I didn’t care if I sounded whiny or desperate.  I just wanted his permission.  Needed it.

The silence dragged out as I continued fucking my ass, switching hands quickly as one grew tired.  The moisture of my body coated my fingers.  I could still feel and smell the dried moisture on my face from earlier, when he made me smear my pussy juice on myself.

“You may touch it.”  He was breathing harshly now and I sensed his own struggle was taking place.

I gasped and my fingers flew to my clit, rubbing it slowly in contrast to the furious pumping of my ass and I moaned my thanks.  It was only a minute before I was gasping that I was going to cum.

“Stop.”  I almost ignored his command but the steel in his voice was like an invisible chain, yanking my hand away.

I did as he instructed, even though it pained me to do it.  He repeated the ritual a few more times, bringing me to the edge and yanking my hand away with his iron words.  It was a physical ache now.  The need was howling but I still obeyed.  I panted, slowed my pace and waited the eternity between his last command and his next question.

“I’m going to cum soon, slut.  Tell me where you want me to cum.”  His voice grew raspy and the sound of it was like a hot tongue flicking over my pussy.  It twitched in eager response.

“Anywhere you want.”  I said, “Except my face. Not on my face.”  I could hardly wait.  My body had been riding the edge of this wave for so long, I felt as though I was going to explode.  I breathed deep, trying to calm myself as my hand continued delivering strokes into my ass with the plug, long and slow.

“Where?”  He asked again.  He needed me to be specific.

“My pussy.”  I told him, laughing out loud.  The torture I felt was so exquisite, so complete.  All I could do was fuck my ass and laugh.  “I want you to cum inside me.”

“You want to feel my cum in your pussy?” He asked unevenly.  I could hear him teetering on his own edge and the sound of it gripped me.

“Mmm hmmm.” It was all I could say, my attention was entirely focused on the sounds of his arousal, the sound of his cock being pumped by his fist.

“You may touch your clit again.”  He grunted at me.  My fingers flew with lightning speed to the center of my urgency.  “Rub it fast and hard.”  His voice was growing tight and I could sense his orgasm was nearing.  I could almost feel his swollen head inside me and my hands worked faster, pumping my ass quickly as I rubbed.

We reached our crescendo together, my cries reaching a fever pitch just a stroke or two before his.  I could almost feel the heat of his cum inside me.  I could hear his shudders wrack his body, the sound of his release thrilling me just as mine had done for him.  And before I knew it, I was laughing with delight.

Utterly spent.  Satiated.  Finally given permission to cum.

Copyright 2013 CJ Riordan – Originally Published March 19, 2013

17 Comments

Filed under Erotica

A Pussy In Motion

Greetings to all my Pussy Pals, old and new! 

Just a quick and dirty love note to tell my friends that the Pugnacious Pussy has moved.  Not the blog site mind you, but the actual physical abode of the Puss.  The House of Pussy has a new address! (Nope, not gonna share it.  I’m not ready for visitors!)

So Pussy has been getting worn out and dirty (not like that you perverts!) and unpacking boxes, building furniture (who knew Pussy could operate tools that didn’t use batteries!)

There has been very little time to write.  So Pussy is going to share a little something from the Vagina Vault. 

Enjoy.

Be back soon friends with fresh, hot coffee in hand and fresh, hot stories to tell.

xxx

P

4 Comments

Filed under Love Notes

Time to Confess

Only the darkness can keep you warm on an evil night like this…

Alone in my room.  A pink bow and a pint for my companions.  Swirling around me a thousand thoughts.

Searching my heart for its true desire.  Tearing apart the haystack to find that priapic, lone needle.

 

Are you looking for someone to give your little arm a twist?

Looking for someone who will give my soul a twist.  Bend my body, kink my mind.

Looking for the one who will claim me, unequivocally as his.

 

Everybody needs some danger sometimes. I’m no different.

I am prowling the dark alleys in my shortest skirt.  Needing danger to come and sink his knife deep.

I am living dead thirsting for the juices of life, waiting to suck cum from you like your cock is a straw.

 

Just think of me as your equal.

I am the feast on your plate.  I am the gift.  I am the goddamned answer to the question.

Feed on me.  Unwrap and accept me.  Acknowledge my reality.

 

You better pray for a miracle. Or you better pray this never ends.

I stretch my body like a snake across  a desert road.

Eyes intent on the distant horizon, will you step over or crush me?

 

No more crying.  I think it’s time to confess. 

I will flirt with this one.I will send photos to that one.  I will fuck the other one.

I’ll suck his cock with such divine perfection he’ll paint my throat and see the face of God on the bedroom ceiling.

Then I’ll leave him dewed with sweat and reverence on his bed.

Find his sister, his ex girlfriend, the coworker he desires.  And fuck them too.

And while my pussy clenches, while it drips and gushes for the hands, mouths, cocks and toys of the others.

My heart will be true to you.

 

10 Comments

Filed under Erotica, Poetry

Sexting

I couldn’t help myself.  Once we started down that path, there was no way I could stop.  I looked around the office, eyeing the clock and glancing back at my cell phone.  Your text messages were staring back at me, tiny little characters of sin that my body could not help responding to.  I checked the schedule, at least 30 minutes before the next client was due for his appointment.  I fought with myself for a moment, trying to decide if I had the courage to follow through with the command you had sent me just moments before.

“Go to an empty office and close the door.  Remove your panties and tuck them into your purse.   Run your fingers all around that beautiful pussy until you cum.  Once you have made yourself cum, do it again.  Return to your desk and text me a picture.  Leave your panties in your purse for the remainder of the day.”

Oh shit.  What had I gotten myself into? Even as I stressed, I knew I was going to do it.  I couldn’t have said no to you even if I wanted to.  And I did not want to.  I scooted back my chair and left my cubicle, trying to look casual with my purse slung over my shoulder and a file in my hand.  I went into the senior attorney’s office.  He was out to lunch with a client and I knew from past history that particular client’s lunches took place at the bar and ran long.  I shut the door, my stomach fluttering and my crotch already wet with anticipation.  I sat behind the desk and whipped out my phone.  I rolled my red lace panties down to my ankles and snapped a picture and sent it.  I stuffed my panties in my purse and hiked up my pencil skirt.  The skirt was tight around my hips as I threw a leg over the arm of the desk chair.  I swiveled the chair away from the door as my eager fingers began stroking.  I used my finger to spread my wetness around my slit, sliding over my slippery clit and making myself gasp.  I was amazed at how wet I was.  We had been texting back and forth for a while this morning and my pussy was more than ready for some action.  I teased my clit some more as I greedily stuffed the two middle fingers of my other hand into my pussy.  I tried to go slow, in and out in slow strokes like you told me to.  But it wasn’t long before I was thrusting hard, my palm making slapping noises against my wet clit.  I could feel my arousal running down my ass and I arched up hard, cumming into my own palm as I panted and gasped your name.

Remembering my instructions, I kept stroking and thrusting, adding a finger in my ass for added measure.  The second orgasm was even stronger, my body clenching down on my fingers, cum running out of me and leaving a wet spot on my skirt that I hoped my jacket would cover.

I sat there for a moment, shaking with the aftermath of an incredibly strong orgasm, before reaching for my phone again.  I hastily snapped a picture, taking just enough time to make sure it was in focus.  I know how much you hate blurry photos of my pussy.  I stood up on shaky legs, pulled my skirt back down and reached for a kleenex to wipe the moisture off my hand and phone.  After a detour to the ladies’ room, I went back to my desk and took my phone out again.  The photo was a good one.  My pussy spread wide, white cream running in ribbons from my slit down past my ass.  You were going to love this.  I felt a wicked smile spread across my lips as I hit send.

 Originally published on February 16, 2013 – Copyright 2013 CJ Riordan

17 Comments

Filed under Erotica

Sometimes…

Sometimes I want your touch to feel like words of worship on my skin.  Sometimes I want to look up into your face and see the love, feeling it pouring like warm velvet over my body and soul.

And sometimes…

I want to feel you possess me like your salvation lies within my cunt.  I want to feel you driving deep, pulsing hard, hot thrusts that rock my body back against the wall, table, chair, elevator, whatever object you threw me up against right before you ripped my panties off and devoured me.

* * *

There are moments when I long for the connection of souls that can take place when the right bodies come together.  I want to feel that one-ness with you, in your arms, in your heart.  I want to know that beyond all the physical is a love so strong my clumsy human frailties can’t break it.  I want to fold myself into your arms – into your sanctuary.

And sometimes…

I want you to defile me.  I want you to take fistfuls of my hair and use my mouth like a Fleshlight.  I want you to slap my cheeks red and tell me what a good little whore I am.  I want you to growl into my ear while you fill my ass with your cock, commanding me to take you, forcing me beyond my own limits.  Afterward I want to fold myself into your arms, shaken, bruised, raw, and completely satisfied.

* * *

In one second, I will feel the overwhelming need to be close to you.  To tuck my head into the hollow of my snuggle spot and hear the steady cadence of your heartbeat.  To be grounded by you, tethered to the physical presence of you.  To know that in that second, for one heartbeat, I am safe. To know that in one moment you can be my anchor and in the next you can be my aggressor.  To know that at any moment, I can walk both paths with you.

And sometimes…

That knowledge is all I need.

 

 

11 Comments

Filed under Erotica, Poetry

Dear Master

Dear Master,

I gave myself to you as a gift.

Thrilled by your excitement, I couldn’t wait for you to unwrap me.

When you played with your new toy, I felt satisfied and content.

I felt loved and purposeful.

Eventually though, you grew bored.

My luster faded.

I was set aside with your other forgotten playthings.

I began to feel lost.  I became invisible.

As I sat untouched, collecting dust and cobwebs,

The yearning flame inside me nearly extinguished.

I almost lost the fire within me.

Withering in that dark lonely place you exiled me to.

But then a new flame began to burn.

Resentment.

Indignation.

Anger.

Fury.

Wrath.

Who are you to decide what I am worth?

While you feasted on my offerings,

My soul starved for intimacy and connection.

For the loving touch of my companion.

So why was I waiting like a dutiful dog?

For a Master who did not feed me?

Galvanized, I threw off the shackles.

I cut the ropes that bind and tie.

I packed my life into cardboard boxes.

Leaving empty spaces in your house.

Where colorful treasures once awaited.

Now only dust and cobwebs lie spread before you.

This dutiful submissive is climbing down from her shelf.

And ripping her freedom from your uncaring hands.

In a final act of sensual disobedience.

But that is nothing compared to the crime of neglect.

Submission is a gift.

Submission is a choice.

And the true power lies within the choice.

So I exerted my dusty power.

I made my choice.

This submissive only yields to a Master she deems worthy.

8 Comments

Filed under Erotica, Poetry

A Pivotal Act

“Come here, Pet.”

The deep baritone of his voice summoned me.  Without question, I set my e-reader aside, rose from my chair and went to his side.

“Kneel.”  I complied.

He gazed at me silently, his dark eyes hard to read.  There was a pensiveness about him I could not put my finger on, but I knew better than to question him.  I simply waited.

He leaned forward and gently removed my reading glasses.  His thumb a featherlight caress on the high arch of my cheekbone.  Finally, he spoke.

“You will remove my pants and pleasure me with that sweet mouth.”  My mouth watered in response.

“Yes, Sir.” I replied, eager to begin.  I could feel the warm rush of heat coursing through me at the mere thought of his hard cock in my mouth.  I reached eagerly for his belt.

His hand stopped me.  “I’m not finished,”  he said firmly.

“Yes, Sir.” I replied and dropped my hands back into my lap.  I crossed them, my hands forming a V of overlapping fingers, just as I had been taught.  His preferred pose of supplication.  Hands in lap, eyes down, back straight.

“When I am ready,” he continued in a voice tinged with steel, “I will cum on your face.”

My heart skipped a beat and I gasped involuntarily.  He will what???

The words alone made tears spring to my eyes.  The thought was like a fist grabbing my entrails in a cramp of pain.  I did not understand how my beloved Sir could defile me that way.  I mentally flashed through the last several weeks, grasping blindly for anything that I had done wrong to warrant such punishment.  I could come up with nothing.  A sob bubbled to the back of my throat, where I held it fiercely in check.  I could feel his eyes on my face, gauging my reaction.

I struggled with the revulsion, the horror that accompanied the mental image of hot, sticky cum squirting onto my face.    I struggled to maintain my composure, to be the dutiful, obedient submissive.  I fought for control of my disgust.  I fought and I lost.

The sob burst free as I reeled back, rising to my feet and backing away quickly.  I tried to scramble to the safety of the sofa; I wanted to run.

He anticipated my move and sprang out of his chair.  His large hands gripped my arms tight and he jerked me towards him.  “You will kneel!”  He commanded darkly, his iron grip on my arms pushing me to the floor.  ” You will kneel and you will listen.”

I had no choice but to kneel before him.  His hands released my arms and one wound tightly into my hair.  I cried out, more from fear than pain, and my breathing began to edge toward hyperventilation.  He pulled my head back, forcing my eyes up to his.

“You must accept this.  It is my command and you will do as you are told.”  He said quietly.  “I have waited long enough.  You will never experience the true freedom found in submission unless you embrace it fully.  I can’t call myself your Master without placing my mark upon your beautiful face.”  His voice softened then, and one hand released my hair and cupped my chin.  “I know you are frightened of it, of your reaction to it.  I wouldn’t demand it unless I thought you were ready.”

I felt my near-hysteria ebb slowly as his words sank in.  His hand caressed my face as he waited and watched the struggle of emotions play in my eyes.

Was I really ready for this?  Could I handle it?  It was my hard line, my absolute boundary.  And now, he was ordering me to cross it.  I took a deep breath and tried to stop myself from shaking.  The fear licked at my insides.

“It is time.”  He said, loosening his belt.  He settled himself in the chair and crooked a finger at me.  I hesitated then crawled to his feet.

“It is your most pivotal act of submission.”  He acknowledged with a smile.  The smile faded.

“Now suck, my little slut.”

I placed my hands at the small of my back, forming the reverse V he preferred.  My body began to shake again as I leaned over his hips and opened my mouth.  His cock was already nearly hard.  He exhaled softly and his head fell back against the chair as my mouth performed a pleasure-filled dance across his cock.

In s pite of the ending, which I was not looking forward to, I could still feel myself getting wet.  My body responded to the sensation of his hard flesh in my mouth just as it always did.  The act of sucking him was both thrilling and terrifying.  Yet even as I savored the feel and flavor of him, I was not sure I could do it.

As he neared his orgasm, I could feel the fear pulling at me.  With every masterful stroke of my lips and tongue, I knew I was one step closer.  His hand fisted into my hair and he drove himself deep into my throat, holding me perfectly still for a moment while he struggled for control.  He pulled out of my throat with a groan and I shut my eyes as my stomach began to churn.  In an instant, I knew I was going to submit.  When I realized it, the feeling was like that moment at the crest of a roller coaster, just before the earth falls away beneath you.  Suspended, terrifying bliss.

Hot liquid shot across my mouth and cheek and I flinched reflexively.  As the second and third streams poured across the same path, my face remained upturned.  The rush of emotion was unlike anything I had experienced before.  Somehow, he had managed to avoid coating my eyes and I opened them fully when I realized it.

The look on his face was complete joy and satisfaction.    As his cum oozed down my jawline, dripping onto my tank top, he reached a hand forward and wiped a thumb across my cheek.  He smeared a dab of his cum on my forehead, then another smear across my other cheek.  He repeated this over and over, until my face was carefully and lovingly painted in his cum.  As he anointed me, his joyful expression turned solemn.   He leaned forward and kissed me.

“You are mine.”

11 Comments

Filed under Erotica

Vessel or Wine?

Do you see the vessel or the wine?

When you look into my eyes

Do you see the scarlet hue

of my liquid soul?

Or do you focus on the shape of the vessel,

Scanning for chips or scratches?

Do you place your nose against me,

Inhale my scent,

Smell the chocolate melancholy,

the bright notes of joy,

or the spicy plum fire of my spirit?

When you look at me

Do you see the glass or the contents?

The vessel or the wine?

If you dare to taste me,

Do you gulp me down

or roll me on your tongue,

letting my flavors bloom on your palate

inside your mind?

Hold my vessel in your hand,

run your fingers around my crystal rim.

Breathe me in.

Let me envelop you in my many flavors.

Let me transport you

to the heart of your desire.

Drink me.

Savor me.

If you dare.

If you can see the ruby red pleasure

I have to offer,

and not just the shiny vessel

that contains me.

Do you drink or keep searching for another glass?

Taste my fruit or pass?

Savor the sublime?

Judge the Vessel, or drink the Wine?

Originally Published February 24, 2013

Photo courtesy of http://www.maremmaguide.com

18 Comments

Filed under Poetry

Confessions: The Administrative Assistant

It has been weighing on my mind lately. The tension building up inside me until I feel like I could scream. Making me so nervous I jump at the slightest noise. I walk around the office on eggshells certain that everyone who looks at me knows. They look in my eyes and in a heartbeat they can see the truth in my gaze. The truth of my lust.

They know how strong my desire is for you. They know that my attentive devotion to my job is more than just the need to be a great assistant. That it is because of my need to attend to, and be near, you.

Somehow when they look at my face, they see the things I have done. The subtle, erotic things.

Like the way I press my crotch against the edge of your desk when I lean over it to review a document with you. Or how when you walk past me in the copy room and no one is there, I grab my nipples through my blouse. Twist them. Pinch them hard as I think of your commanding hands on my willing body.

Or maybe they hear it in the sultry edge of my voice when I answer the phone; a dark, satin caress of sound that flicks across your ears like my tongue on your skin.

But it goes so much deeper than that.

Like how I read your emails and look at your cell phone bills, just so I can know what is going on in your life. How I listen to every conversation you have; every interaction with colleagues, clients, staff members. I take in every detail about you so I can know you better. So I can feel close to you.

Do they know about the time I sat in your leather chair, looking out over cityscape below and slipping my hand under my skirt? Do they know I bit my lip until it bled to keep from screaming out my release as I fingered my pussy to orgasm right there in your chair while you were at a luncheon?

I wonder if they know about the scarf? The one you thought you lost. You didn’t lose it, by the way. It’s in my bedroom, tucked away in a drawer. When I am lonely at night, I take it out and wrap it around me as I reach for my favorite vibrator. I smell your scent, drawing your essence into me as I tighten it around my neck, the way I wish your hands would hold me. I fuck myself hard, the smell of you, the feel of your scarf against my skin getting me so aroused, I cum like mad.

I haven’t used it in a while. The last time I did, I jerked that scarf so tight around my neck that I passed out.

Do they know about the conference room table? How I bent myself forward over that long, cool expanse of glass and fucked myself with your “Board Chair Appreciation 2011” Award?

Oh I tried to resist. I waited for two weeks for the urge pass. But then one night, while working late and compiling records for a client, the urge became too strong. I called out your name. Face pressed into the cold glass, I shoved the thin tip of that award into my ass while I rubbed myself and came in a stream down my legs. All for you.

And you don’t even know.

But the rest of them? The other workers in the office? I can’t shake the feeling they know. It haunts me. But my love for you keeps me coming to work every day in spite of their knowing looks. My love keeps me here by your side.

Your husband has no idea how lucky he is.

10 Comments

Filed under Erotica

His Revenge

Continued from “Tremble

As soon as she releases the tethers from my wrists, I grab her. I pull her close to me, kissing her hard, letting her feel my hunger. I don’t waste any time, sliding my hand down her belly and slipping a finger between her lips. She’s wet, really wet. God damn, I love how wet her pussy gets. Makes me drool to see and feel the slick arousal between her thighs. Fucking gorgeous.

She moans. She can’t help it. She is a noisy one, my beautiful slut. I smile and said, “You like my fingers sliding into your wet pussy, my little whore?” She smiles back and gets wetter, she always does when I talk to her like that. I probe her with just the tip of my two middle fingers, sliding in just far enough to feel her clamp down on me before pulling back and flicking her clit again. I take a handful of her hair, not hard enough to hurt but enough to show my authority, and my mouth bruises her lips. I kiss my way down her throat as I flick and stroke her clit. I smile at the way her body jerks with each flick. I let the stubble on my face rasp her soft skin on my way down. At the base of her neck, I pause for a second. She groans low in her throat as I count in my mind, one, two, three! On three I bite her neck, sinking my teeth into her skin as I simultaneously slide my two fingers deep into her cunt. She cries out in painful pleasure as bite turns to kiss. The bite will leave a slight mark, but one that will fade overnight. I like to save my more lasting marks for her sweet ass.

The sound she makes is like a siren call to my cock. I tug her hair, pulling her head back and dragging my teeth across her throat. I finger fuck her with purpose, occasionally pulling out and snapping my fingers against her clit. I can tell by the way she moves her body, by the sounds she is making, she loves it.

She grinds her hips against my fingers. She moans her approval. Her hands frantically grab at my shoulder and ass. She wants my cock bad. I can see it in the hungry, wild look in her dark eyes. It matches the animal lust in my own.
I bring her to the edge, finger her with authority until she is shaking and telling me she’s going to cum. Then I stop. Pull out my fingers and stuff them into her open mouth. “Lick them off.” I tell her. I enjoy the whimpering noise she makes, knowing I just left her hanging on the edge of a killer orgasm. Little does she know, she hasn’t even begun to whimper yet.

I wrap my large hand around her neck, my cock twitching at the sight of her lips wrapped around my fingers. I pull them out of her mouth and shove her down hard on the bed. She goes face down into the mattress with a grunt of surprise; her tight ass up high in the air. I grab her hips and jerk her back against me, letting her feel my hard cock but not have it. “You don’t tie me up, little slut.” I growl, slapping her hard on the right side of her ass. She cries out, the sound muffled by the bed. “I’m the one who does that.” I smack the other cheek of her ass. Her head comes up a bit and I shove it back down. “Don’t move.” I tell her, knowing she will not defy me. She knows I mean business. I may have enjoyed what she did, but I take issue with the fact she tied me up. Big time.

I jump off the bed in one lithe movement, untying the rope from the bed frame. I return to my position behind her again, noting with grim satisfaction that she had not moved an inch. “This is what happens to cheeky whores who push their man too far.” I tell her as I tie her wrists together behind her back. She turns her face to from side to side, trying to find an opening between the bedding and her hair. She is wriggling her ass in anticipation, her beautiful pussy oozing wetness.
Without any preamble, I bury my face in her slit. My tongue drives between the wet folds to taste her excitement and then journeys to her throbbing clit. She makes little animal noises and pushes her pussy against my face hard. I smack her ass, hard enough to pull her up short. She cries out in real pain and does not push back against me again. I turn over, lying on my back and putting my head between her thighs. I use one hand to pull her down onto my face, my tongue again finding the wet nub of her clit. With my other hand, I rub the raw skin of her ass then stuff my fingers back into her pussy. I love the feel of her pussy on my face. The way her wetness runs down my face, the taste of her, the sound she makes. Oh damn. My cock is rock hard.

She is so worked up it doesn’t take long before she’s shouting obscene words and about to cum again. I put my hand firmly against her ass and push hard, lifting her off my face and driving her face down on the bed again. I slide out from underneath her, covered in her juice and grinning like a fool. She’s practically in tears she needs it so bad. I lift her face and kiss her, smearing her with her own juice. “You want me inside you?” I whisper, my lips against her ear. “Fuck YES!” She screams. “I need it now, fuck me NOW!!” I laugh. I love it when she says that.

I can’t wait to be buried balls deep inside her. I position myself behind her again, my cock at her wet, quivering entry. I tease her with my head, stroking her from clit to ass, spreading her moisture because I’m going to bury a finger in her ass while I fuck her. She is whimpering again, almost crying, and whispering “Pleeaaassseee!”

“Anything for you babe.” I tell her and bury my cock in one swift stroke. She cries out like an animal and I shove a finger in her ass as I start pumping her. I don’t take it slow, not this time. She needs it now. Hard. Fast. Wet. Dirty. I deliver, slamming my cock home, our bodies slapping together with each thrust. I can feel her ass twitching around my finger, contracting just like her pussy is. She is so wet, so fucking hot. I am lost. Just totally lost. My hips work her like the pistons in a Hemi. I grab her bound wrists, pulling her arms up a bit to raise her up, using the leverage to jerk her back into my cock. I pound her until she swears to Gods I’ve never even heard of and cums like a freight train, spraying hot liquid across me. I keep pumping, knowing any second now I’m going to fire my load into her belly. I pound her a few more times and fireworks go off behind my eyes, in my balls. I pump her full of my hot cum and lower her to the bed. She lies there, twitching from head to toe, tears of release on her cheeks and a befuddled smile on her lips.

I untie her wrists and lie beside her, curling her body into mine. “Next time you tie me up,” I say, “Better just leave me tied.”

She laughs.

Originally published February 23, 2013

Copyright 2013 CJ Riordan

12 Comments

Filed under Erotica