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Wine Tasting

He shut the door behind him softly, turning his face to the dim living room.   He squinted, the flickering candlelight brushing soft lines of silhouette near the window at the end of the room.

“Come in and put your things on the table.”  Her silky voice surprised him, and he reflexively gripped the small bag in his hand.  He did as he was told, hand flexing again when her voice sounded.

“Remove your clothing.”  He breathed deep as he reached for his t-shirt.  He was momentarily disappointed she would not see the funny saying on the front of the shirt.  He had worn it thinking it would make her laugh and was looking forward to her response.

His feet worked his sneakers off, the jeans and underwear followed and he put them on the chair before bending and peeling off his socks.  He stood again, the slightly cool air of the room kissed his skin with goosebumps.

He looked again at the shadow of his Mistress, flanks tensed as he waited for her next command.  He didn’t have to wait long.

“Open the wine and pour us each a glass  Then bring them here.”

He quickly complied, smelling the fruity scent of the red wine as he poured a liberal amount into the glasses waiting there.  He picked the glasses up and walked over to her.  As he approached he could see the outline of her legs.  Her curvy, strong legs were covered with black thigh-high stockings.  On her feet were a pair of black pumps.  He nearly groaned as his eyes traveled from her thigh to her toes and back.  He dared not peek further up.

“Kneel.”  One syllable and he was on his knees in front of her, naked and bearing her wine.  His cock was already beginning to swell.

He held up a glass of wine and waited.  She reached forward, her long fingers wrapping around the stem of the glass.  He could imagine those fingers wrapping around him.  The thought made a groan form in his chest.  His teeth bore down on his bottom lip to keep the sound from escaping.

She took a drink of the wine, her red lips parting as her tongue licked the traces off her mouth.  His cock thickened further.

“Would you like to taste your wine?” She asked him, gesturing to the other glass still in his hand.

“Yes, Ma’am, I would.”  He replied.

“You may do so after you take care of that hard cock.”  She uncrossed her legs, leaning forward and holding up a small bottle of lubricant.  She ran a finger along his shaft before gripping him so firmly the wine glass in his hand shook.

“This is unacceptably hard.”  Long fingers ran the length of him, grasping his thickness and squeezing until the head shimmered with precum.  He gasped.

“Yes Ma’am.”  He looked for a table to set the wine glass.  Mistress shook her head.

“No, my Pet, you misunderstand.  You must hold the wine while you stroke your cock for me.”  She smiled at him and took another drink.  “You will not spill a drop.  If you do, I will plug your ass.”

He winced. His ass was still in training and he was fairly sure she would not use the training plugs if she followed through on her threat.

“Yes Ma’am.”

He did not have to work to make it hard.  His cock was throbbing already, begging for touch.  He opened his palm and Mistress poured some lube on it. He spread the lube down over his head and shuddered at his own touch.  He was so swollen with arousal he did not think it would be long before his offering was ready for her.

He worked his hand up and down his shaft slowly, squeezing his fingers over the head of his cock.  His breathing quickened, and a small gasp escaped him as he caressed his head again.

“Look up at me,” She commanded.  He obeyed, raising his eyes to hers.  He could feel his heartbeat racing, his hand working his shaft faster as he allowed his mind to envision her receiving him.  He momentarily closed his eyes as pleasure began to overtake him.

He was not aware of her movement until her fingers caressed his cheek as they traveled to his jaw. She pulled his face to the side abruptly.  “Open your eyes!”  They flew open in surprise.  Her mouth was so close he could have leaned forward and kissed her.  But he did not dare.  His hand continued its increasingly frantic pace on his cock.  It would not be long now.

“Please Mistress,” he gasped, cords in his neck straining as he held back his orgasm.  “May I cum please?”

“Not yet.”  She smiled and moved to his other side, one hand caressing a trail from his shoulder to his nipple.  She grasped it tightly.  He fought back the orgasm, thinking about accounting, baseball, dishwasher repair.  Anything to keep from cumming before his Mistress allowed it.

“Please!” He was beginning to feel a burning sensation in his balls and knew he could not hold back much longer.

“You may cum,” She breathed softly, her mouth caressing his ear.  “In your glass.”

His brain barely registered her words in time, he thrust the glass down to his crotch, as desperate not to spill it as he was to cum.  He groaned loudly as his thick, creamy fluid squirted into the glass.  He stroked the last drops out, shuddering and nearly laughing in disbelief – he had not spilled a drop.

His Mistress was still kneeling behind him, her hands on his skin and her sweet mouth trailing kisses down his neck.

“Very well done,” She said, kissing his neck and allowing him to feel her teeth sinking into his skin.  He felt the burning pleasure of his nipple being twisted in her fingers.  She stood abruptly, the sudden lack of touch making him miss her proximity already.

She returned to her chair and crossed her legs again.  Her wine glass was once again wrapped in her fingers.

“Salute,”  She said, holding up her glass.  He mimicked her gesture and ignored the disbelief he felt at what he was about to do.

“Salute” he echoed back as he tipped the glass and drank it down.

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Right Bicep

It was the curve that caught my eye, drew me in.

That sloping curve from your shoulder to your elbow.

An erotic arc of skin and muscle.

It’s embarrassing to admit.  Like my fetish for a conference room table.   But…

The curve of your right bicep ignited something in me.

I could barely take my eyes off it.

I wanted to lick it.  I wanted to run my tongue along the line I saw.  I wanted to sink my teeth into your skin.

I wanted to taste the salt of you there, grip its left counterpart in my hand as passion reared.

I wanted to feel those muscles bunched up and tensed around me as you lifted my hips and drove yourself into me.

Wanted to feel them wrapped around my ass and holding me steady as I ground my pussy against your mouth.

The sweep of that line, from the cap of your shoulder in a graceful angle down to your bicep.

I wanted to taste it a dozen times that night.

I very nearly did.

Just as I very nearly got myself off in ladies room after the first game.

I laughed as I fingered my clit in the ladies room stall, feeling it swell, wondering how you would react if I sent you a picture of what I was doing at that moment.

I contemplated coating my fingers in my juicy goodness and offering you a taste when I got back to the table. Or would I just tease you with my scent and lick my own fingers clean?

I wondered if it would have the same effect on your concentration as the effect a wicked line of sinew was having on mine.

I am lucky that I didn’t pierce an innocent passerby as my wandering mind played havoc with my dart’s trajectory.

I am lucky I still managed to win two out of three and keep my bragging rights.

I am lucky I got to take you home and let my tongue re-enact the sensuously filthy things I was thinking about at the pub.

I am amazed at how completely you managed to wreck me.

With the curve of your right bicep.

 

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Who’s the Sub?

I agreed to meet you at the bar.  I told you I’d be the one in the black tights with the growling pussy.  You laughed and said I should be easy to find.

I’ll admit, my approach was less than subtle.  But the hunger was rising like a burning tide inside me.  Demanding release, needing touch.  There was no way I could hide it so I figured the safest bet was a full-frontal assault.

We met and relaxed over beer and conversation.  I caught my gaze as it locked on the outline of your nipples through your t-shirt.  Mmm…my mouth tingled at the thought of their hard outline between my lips.  I momentarily lost track of what you were saying.  Mesmerized by the fantasy reel playing in my head, I watched your lips move and picture that motion on my swollen clit.

We made casual conversation while I killed you in a game of darts.  That’s it, you announced with a smile, the handicap is over.  Next time, we both play straight – no slop.  I grinned back, the competitive spirit inside me alight and reveling in a heady rush.  Just one of many heady moments to come.

We headed out, my stomach rumbling with hunger that nearly matched that of my craven pussy.  In the parking lot, your mouth found mine, your fingers making a beeline for the V between my legs.  I opened my thighs and welcomed your touch, stopping myself just shy of grinding into your palm – there were people on the sidewalk behind me.  We discussed stopping for something to eat on the way to my place.  We made it a only a few blocks from the bar, when I texted you.

Forget the food.  Take me home and fuck me.

Your response:  🙂

I felt myself flirting with a dangerous edge.  My hunger had an unbidden quality that worried me.  I didn’t know you well enough – didn’t know if you would receive the full brunt of that danger well.  I fought for control even as my hands found their way into my pants. There were no panties to navigate, just the full lips of my pussy, already swelling and moist.  The beast had arisen…

We arrived at my place.  I continued to struggle for control of the animal urges while I poured a drink and flipped on a CD. But you read my signals.  You knew what I needed.  You wasted no time, stripping off my blouse and freeing my breasts to your touch.  You kissed and sucked them, twisted and pulled them in that way that makes me exhale in a slow hiss.  You squeezed them tight, trapping blood in my nipples and increasing the sensitivity.  I wrapped my leg around you, peeling off your shirt so my hands could touch your skin.  You leaned me back over the couch, then changed direction, pulling me by my nipples to the other side of the sofa.

You waited for me to remove your pants and laughed when I lacked the initiative.  I made an embarrassed mental note: next time, examine the belt – so I can rip it off with accuracy and not make a fumbling mess of it.

Take me to the bedroom I asked you.  I needed to have room to move, this passion could not handle the confines of the sofa.  You stood and grasped my taut nipples in your fingers, pulling me like a dog on a leash.  I obediently followed my master’s footsteps.

In the bedroom, I felt the swell of passion rise inside me like turbulent seas sluicing up in a punchbowl.  I pushed you down on the bed and my lips found your cock.  I licked the salty fluid from your tip, savoring the flavor of your desire.  I want you to cum on my tits I said breathlessly as my mouth worked its magic and your cock grew full and hard.  I was drunk on the power my mouth had over your body, seduced by the way you moaned and worked your hips beneath my face.  I went too far.

But you can’t cum until I say so.

Who is in control here?  The velvet softness of your voice belied the steel beneath.  I felt your hand clench into a fist at the back of my head.  You pulled me up, denying me the feast of your cock, pulling my face back up to yours. I am the Dom here you said with a silky growl.  You brushed your lips across mine, tightening your fist in my hair and giving me a little shake.  Who’s the sub?  You pulled me close, your mouth closing over mine in a kiss that swept over me like an inferno. I am, I sighed against your lips.  My mind fought for control, part of me wanting to push that boundary further, craving the knowledge of your dominance over me.  The other part of me wanted to please, wanted to retreat from the animal within.  That part won.

You pushed me back down, thrusting my face down onto your cock and pumping into my throat with a few deep thrusts to drive your point home.  I accepted you, accepted my place, yielding to your touch and giving up my pussy to you like an offering on an altar.

Our bodies engaged in an erotic performance; a dance of sensation punctuated by sighs and groans, grunts and strangled sounds, the deafening clap of your hands reddening my ass as a reminder.  In the end you kept the beast in its cage, you fed the hunger and ignited a new craving.

I have touched myself countless times since then – eyes closed, lips parted as my body thrusts and strains for release all the while repeating your words:

Who’s the sub here?

I am…for now.

 

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Morning Kiss – Part Three

Continued from Part Two and Part One

There was little preamble before he firmly placed my hands against my bedroom wall.  I held still, my head inclined gently to the side, watching him as he looked me over.  I smiled, knowing he was trying to decide where to touch first. I arched my back  and gave my ass a slow back and forth swivel.  His hands took the bait and reached for my hips. My breath came out in a hiss when his smooth fingers made contact.

He was not rough with me.  I failed the test and my hand slid away from the wall, reaching behind me to feel the bulge in his jeans.  He said nothing, just firmly, decisively put my hand back in place.

He touched wherever his fingers roamed from the swell of my breast to the curve of my hips.  He filled his palms with my breasts, breathing into my ear how much he loved the weight of them in his hands.  My reply was a throaty laugh as my ass drew circles against his crotch. I could feel my hunger growing.

He satisfied his need to touch, hands spreading my now-bare ass cheeks tracing the line to my slick entry.

It was time.

He drew me to the bed, lay me down and straddled me, reaching for the massage oil he had requested I set out by the bed.  He started smoothing the muscles of my back in long strokes.  I sighed as I felt my body relax, strung between the delicious tension of sexual arousal and relaxation.  His fingers traced the edge of ass cheek down to my pussy and I gasped when he flicked across my clit.

Instantly the beast was awake.  I spread my thighs, raised my hips up hungrily to his touch.  He slid his fingers back and forth before stroking over my clit again; using the moisture seeping out of me spreading it like honey from clit to ass.  I breathed a sigh that turned to a moan as his fingers traced my ass.  “Inside me,” I groaned, raising my hips up and pushing my knees farther apart.  “I need you inside me.”

He complied and thrust two long fingers into my hot tunnel.  We both groaned then.  I reached for his cock, my fingers nearly frantic.  He lay down beside me and offered me his cock.  I waited a beat, my eyes never leaving his as I licked the salty moisture from his tip and engulfed him in one, smooth motion.  His head fell back and his hands gripped my head.  I could feel his hips lifting off the bed, thrusting hungrily up into my throat as his hands pressed down. I understood the message. He wanted it deep and I gave it.

I felt his thick cum hit the back of my throat and tried to swallow but he wasn’t done.  He thrust his head ever deeper into the back of my throat, gagging me and pouring another surge of semen down my throat.  I almost laughed at the quiet brutality of his orgasm.  I could feel him shuddering in my mouth.

He sighed contentedly, stroking my hair for a moment before pushing me back down on my tummy, reaching again for my still-soaking and ever hungry pussy.  His fingers entered me swiftly, finding my spot with minimal effort and I felt the waves of pleasure flow over me as he began to slide his fingers in and out.  His thumb swirled across my clit and my hips arched up.  He took advantage of the view and told me how hot it was seeing my ass clenching with pleasure as his fingers disappeared into the wetness below.  My body was craving him and I came swiftly.  Too swiftly for his taste.

He turned me over, cupping my sex and rubbing it with his palm, lips lapping at my nipples before the nipping of his teeth began.  He pulled his hand away from me and brought it down in a sharp motion. I gasped as his palm slapped against my pussy.  “Spread yourself.”  His low voice intoned. I reached down with my hands, opening my full lips and exposing my tender clit to his touch.

Slap.  Jump.  Slap.  Twitch.  Slap. Moan.  Slap.

The sounds of my wetness grew and I could see my juice glistening against his palm.  My breath was coming short and hard, my back arched up hips meeting his palm with each slap.

“Fuck me, please!” I could stand it no longer.  Blindly I grabbed his hand after a final, surprisingly hard slap, and thrust his fingers into me. I refused to relinquish my grip on his hand and I held him tight, shoving his fingers into my pussy and fucking myself with his hand.

He laughed out loud at my hunger, the sounds of his deep laugh lost in the din as my orgasm crested like a killer wave, flooding us both, soaking the duvet in saline.  My pussy gripped him tight and I thrust a few more times, making sure every ounce of sensation was drawn from the orgasm before bringing his hand to my mouth. I sucked at his fingers, happy, breathless and utterly thrilled.

Next time, he tells me he will bury his cock inside me.

I can hardly wait.

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Game On!

I wasn’t prepared for sex that night.  I was having a period and we had agreed before the date that it would simply be time spent hanging out, enjoying the easy conversation that had marked all of our dates thus far.  I was disappointed of course, having formed some seriously erotic intentions since the last time we were together.  But I had resigned myself to an evening of companionship with clothing on.

The last time he came to my place, he brought a black duffel bag that piqued my curiosity to no end.  When I finally worked up the nerve to ask about it, he gave a coy smile and uttered one word that left me dripping into my black thong:  “Toys.”

He came prepared.  He is a former Boy Scout, after all.

Our first encounter had left me teetering on an unfamiliar edge: satisfied for the moment yet still craving more.  My nipples, tingling and sore for three days afterwards, were a constant reminder of his firm touch, his surprisingly devilish ways.  I was as eager for my next taste as a fat kid allowed to lick the frosting knife.

We enjoyed a leisurely day together, retiring to my place for an impromptu meal.  As we sat on the couch talking, his eyes wandered over my body while I pretended not to notice.  They lingered on my breast and I could tell from the gleam in his eye he was remembering the feel of my tiny, hardened nipple in his mouth.  We continued our conversation, both of us acting normally in spite of the heated tension building between us.

Finally the tension was more than he could bear and as he made a casual comment about god-only-knows-what, his hand reached out and began pinching and rolling my nipple through my shirt.   My thoughts, incoherent and disjointed as they were, evaporated in a steamy cloud of lust.

He was not going to make it out of my house without giving me an orgasm.

My eyelids fluttered involuntarily and I sighed as the pleasure zinged between my nipples and my clit.  “You are going to cause trouble.” I told him.

He smiled, revealing his intentions with the hungry look in his eye.  “What are you going to do about that?” He asked me as his fingers tightened around my nipple.

Oh yeah.  Game on.

I reached over, tracing his crotch until he sucked in a breath and stifled a groan.  “You have no idea how bad I want you in my mouth.”  I told him.  His cock swelled in response as he flashed back to our last encounter:  his hands holding my head as he fucked my mouth with vigor.

“Duffel bag is in the car!” He declared buoyantly and jumped up to retrieve it.  I raised a brow and asked the obvious question, “But what about my -”

He cut me off with a finger over my lips and a boyish grin that stood in stark contrast to his words:  “I think I’ll fuck your ass tonight.”

Game most definitely on.

He took me to the bedroom and undressed me.  Then he took out an enema kit from his bag.  Umm… a what?

Yes folks.  He came prepared.  He is a former Boy Scout, after all.

He explained, almost clinically, what he would do.  I nodded and decided to just go with it.  After all, he seemed to know what he was doing and you don’t wait until the first drop on a roller coaster ride to decide you’d rather be on the ground.

We went to the bathroom and I followed his instructions, fighting back the incredible shyness that was overtaking me.  I waited until I needed to use the toilet and announced I was ready.  A brief pause and I firmly instructed him to wait outside while I took care of this most intimate business.  I mean jeez, there are a few things even I won’t do on a date!

I reminded myself that an ounce of prevention was worth a pound of cure and waited for what seemed an eternity.  I silently prayed the sound would not carry and my cheeks flamed red at the thought.  At one point, I thought I was finished only to discover that no, standing up shifted things around.  I sat back down and that scene from Austin Powers ran through my head, complete with computer voice:  “Evacuation compl-“… “Evacuation com-“… “Evac-“…you get the picture.

Pretty soon, I could not stifle the laughter any longer.  A serious bout of hysterics ensued.  Giggling and making farting noises on the toilet is not exactly what I would consider erotic foreplay, but when I considered the fact I let my date give me an enema, I figured he brought it on himself.

Finally, I emerged.  Refreshed, carefully cleaned, wiping tears of laughter from my face and trying not to think about what was going through his mind.

“All ready?” He asked with an amused grin as I walked into the bedroom.  I nodded.

My laughter and embarrassment faded when his hands touched my skin.  His cock was already rock hard, straining toward me as he led me to the bed and put me on all fours.  He was, of course, prepared.  His hands began stroking me, spreading the copious moisture that even with a tampon in, was seeping out of my pussy.  He stroked the outside of my ass, tracing lazy, sensual circles that mirrored those his other hand was tracing over my clit.  How he managed to erase the previous 15 minutes of cringe-worthy moments from my mind with two small circles is beyond me.  But he did.

He applied the lubricant and slid his finger inside me in slow motion.  Easing into me, breaking the seal of my virgin ass and beginning to finger me with long, smooth strokes.  It didn’t take a genius to figure out this guy knows a thing or two about ass play.  He inserted a plug, again easing it in gently and slowly, letting my body adapt to the intrusion as his fingers coaxed yet more longing out of my swollen clit.  He clicked on the plug and the vibrations made me groan.  He instructed me to remove my tampon and I grabbed a kleenex and obliged.  I didn’t think he was going to go there but he slid his fingers inside my drenched pussy and my last thought before my brain stopped functioning was gratitude that my flow was very light.

He fingered my pussy, stroking my g spot and I took over massaging my clit while he worked the plug in and out of my eager ass.  I felt the orgasm building and knew it would be epic.  He teased me to the edge, pulling back, stopping his sensual onslaught and leaving me moaning, begging for more and pushing my ass back against him like an eager slut.  He laughed softly and decisively filled my holes again, this time stroking faster and harder.  I came so hard I saw blinding, white stars behind my eyes, my entire body shaking as the sensations overwhelmed me.

He removed the toy from my ass, kissing and stroking my hot skin as I shivered and twitched in the aftermath.  He pulled me to the edge of the bed, one hand pushing gently down on my low back to position me to receive him.  As my body continued to twitch from the first orgasm, he filled my ass with his cock and began to fuck me just as he had promised.

I loved it.  I loved the fullness of him inside me.  I loved the way his cock sliding in and out of my ass made me feel like the dirtiest little whore.  I loved the fact that when he came, he thrust balls-deep inside me and I took every inch of him.  I loved the fact that I barely touched my own clit and went off again, cumming like crazy for the second time, squirting my pleasure across his pelvis and down my thighs.

As I lay in his arms, feeling his hands stroking my soft skin as we talked, I realized there were very few lovers with whom I could have had this experience so comfortably.  That thought led me to wonder what other aces this Boy Scout has up his sleeve.  I stifled a giggle against his chest, impishly flicking my tongue across his nipple as two words ran through my brain:  Game on!

 

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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

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Tremble

“Close your eyes and just relax.” I tell you softly.

You lie back on the bed, naked, skin still moist from the hot shower we just finished. You’re tingling all over, whether it was from the blissful scrubbing I gave you or the feel of my hands on your slick body or the anticipation, you can’t tell.

I smile sweetly as I reach down and retrieve the rope from the side of the bed. I lift your hand and slip the knot around your wrist. Your eyes fly open in surprise, words of protest already forming on your lips. “I’m no submissive, sweetheart.” You begin with a tinge of panic.

I stroke your face gently and lean in close to brush your lips with mine. “Don’t worry,” I reassure you, “This isn’t about submission, it’s about enjoying the gift of pleasure.” As I speak, I gently tighten the knot around your wrist, just as one would slip a leash on a wary stray dog. You look at me long and hard, asking yourself if you really want to do this. After all, you don’t know me that well. Part of you is curious, part of you is wary, but all of you is aroused so you relent and lie back again.

I reach for your other hand and repeat the action. You are restrained but there is enough play in the rope to allow you to move your hands, though your range of motion is limited.

I reach for the remote and click the CD player on. In the background you hear the sweeping, sensual notes of a song you don’t recognize. I lean in close again and the scent of my skin fills your senses. My lips taste yours, sweeping across your mouth slowly, savoring you. They continue to your jaw and down your throat, up the side of your neck near your ear. My breasts are brushing your chest, nipples tracing your skin. “Close your eyes.” I whisper in a low voice. You shut your eyes. “Relax your body.” I instruct. You do your best under the circumstances.

I break contact with your body and there is a long pause. You resist the temptation to peek and see what is going on. The answer comes quickly as you feel my fingers gliding over the lengthening shaft of your growing cock. I touch you softly, tracing my fingertip over the ridge of your head, teasing the opening at the tip. Your breath catches in the back of your throat as you feel the tip of my tongue follow the same path that my finger did. With tiny flicks, I whip your head with my tongue, spreading moisture over your skin and sensual delight throughout your body.

My other hand is reaching for your balls, stroking them lovingly, cupping them while my thumb rolls across the soft skin. My mouth can’t resist and I have to kiss you there at the soft, sweet junction between your balls and ass. The feel of my lips against you makes your cock twitch in my hand and you breathe out a sigh. The tension has left your body, leaving no trace of anxiety behind. Now you are filled with a new tension…a delicious tension whose release you eagerly anticipate.

My tongue returns to your cock, now rigid in my palm, and I lick your head. I make small circles around the opening at the tip, poking my tongue down inside and tasting you. I relish your flavor. You begin to squirm as your desire grows. You want to feel my mouth all around you, not just teasing your head. I lick down the shaft, dragging out the torture for a moment longer before coming back and engulfing your cock in my hot mouth. You gasp at the sensation, muscles contracting involuntarily. I see your hands pull at your tethers, trying to reach for me without success.

I run my wet finger down your crack. As my mouth moves slowly up and down your shaft my finger begins tracing your ass, teasing it with gentle pressure. My tongue is sweeping up the underside of your head, running along the seam in broad strokes. Your breathing is fast and shallow now, your legs tense, hips thrusting forward against my mouth. I take you in deeper, to the back of my throat, increasing both the rhythm of my mouth and pressure of my finger below it. I can feel you shaking, knowing all the foreplay in the shower has left you teetering on the brink. The way my mouth is working you now, fast and deep, sucking and fingering you, is not helping matters.

You groan, pulling against the restraints with growing frustration. The urge to grab my head and ram your cock into my mouth is burning you alive. You jerk savagely against the restraints, cursing them out loud before telling me how fucking good that feels. I know it does. Your swollen, red, straining cock is showing me exactly how good it feels.

I can’t believe how wet I’m getting. The feel of your hardness in my mouth, pressing against the back of my throat, is driving me insane. I want to fuck you so badly I can barely restrain myself.

I pull back, licking down your shaft and sucking you balls once more before driving my tongue against your ass. As my tongue writes wicked sentences of lust against your ass my hand is sliding up and down your shaft. Fingers sweeping over your head, gripping you tight as you thrust up against me, mindless with passion.

I can feel your orgasm coming. You are going to explode. I wait until the last second before I pull my tongue away from your pulsating ass and swallow your cock again. You cry out like an animal, jerking your hips up against my face as you fill my mouth with cum. Hot sticky streams of it. You paint the inside of my mouth and throat with your juice as spasms seize you. You shake and grunt, muscles clenched and hands pulling taut against the ropes as your orgasm obliterates you. As the spasms subside, I lick you clean.

I sit back with a smile, wiping saliva from my chin and admiring the beauty of your face, so perfectly relaxed and content. Your eyes are still shut and a blissful smile hovers on your mouth.

Suddenly, your eyes pop open and you growl, “Untie me. It’s time for my revenge.”

Your words cause the moisture to leak down my thighs and I reach for the ropes…

Originally posted on February 21, 2013 – Copyright 2013 CJ Riordan

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Confessions: The Suburban Housewife

I am a pretty ordinary woman.

I don’t have a lot of juicy stories or adventures. My idea of a wild night on the town is usually going out with a few of my fellow moms and unwinding with some drinks while we eat fattening foods, protesting that we “really shouldn’t” as we shove mouthfuls into our faces.

Most of my weekends are spent doing the chores that were procrastinated during the week. Making sure the laundry is all caught up and sheets are changed on all the beds. Stocking the pantry for school lunches and organizing homework folders. Making sure the husband has freshly pressed shirts for the week ahead. Attending birthday parties and soccer games. Selling cookie dough and coupon books for the PTA.

It is easy to get caught up in the minutia. It is easy to forget that before the diapers and endless loads of laundry, before the toy-strewn stairs and parent-teacher conferences, I was a woman. Never a Goddess or a Glamour Girl. But a woman first and foremost.

Recently, I had a startling reminder that there is still a woman underneath the soccer mom exterior. That eye-popping reminder came in the form of a cock in my ass.

It was the third Friday of the month. Mom’s night out. I had been sitting in the bar of a local cantina, swallowing margaritas with abandon and listening to my girlfriend Pam talk about the endless stream of guys she was meeting in her post-divorce OKCupid online dating frenzy. I’m not going to lie. I was jealous. It had been so long since my husband had taken me on a date, or done anything more romantic than look at me over the edge of his laptop and say, “Wanna have sex?” And even that wasn’t happening very often these days. As she prattled, my thoughts began pulling me into a familiar and dark place.

I ordered another margarita and watched Pam discreetly text as we chatted. It didn’t take long before she had lined up some action and gave me a lame excuse about needing sleep, promising to meet up again soon before she headed out of the cantina smirking. I glanced at my phone, it was 8:40. I thought about heading home but instead ordered another drink.

I didn’t go out that night with the intention of cheating. Hell, I hadn’t even shaved my legs. But somewhere between the jealousy, the alcohol and the fact that I hadn’t been laid in over two months, something inside me just gave in. When he approached my table and offered to buy me a drink, I didn’t even stop to ask myself if I should or shouldn’t. I didn’t think at all. I just acted.

I am ashamed to say I did it. I pushed the guilty thoughts aside and went to his place, a nondescript bachelor pad that I barely took note of. We got no more than three steps in before he pulled me to him and kissed me.

It didn’t take long for the clothes to come off. It took even less time for me to become completely lost in the feel of his hands and mouth on my body. I didn’t know this guy, but I did know that I liked the way he touched me. His strong hands were in all the right places and I happily gave myself over to the fantasy his touch created.

The sharp sting of his hand against my ass brought me swiftly back to reality. My skin lit on fire as my shocked mind registered the fact he had just spanked me. Hard. No sooner had the realization hit me then he struck again, the palm of his large hand landing flat against my pale round cheek. Flames of sensation licked across my ass. Again and again he spanked me, with such force that a sheen of sweat began to cover his face. I was starting to freak out, the painful heat becoming more than I could bear when he stopped.

“God you have a great ass.” He said breathlessly, trailing his fingertips across my blazing skin. He pulled his hands away long enough to yank my jeans completely off. He bent me forward, my palms splaying against the wall to brace myself. His foot pushed my legs wider apart and dropped to his knees. With a rush I felt his hands grab my tingling ass cheeks and spread me wide. Seconds later his face was buried in my pussy. I gasped, somewhere in my drunk mind registering the fact that his tongue was covering me from clit to ass, and it felt incredible. I moaned and pushed against his face, wanting more, getting lost in the sensations of his tongue lapping away at my swollen clit. Then I felt his tongue dip lower, flicking and swirling around my ass.

Now I am not someone who has never had her ass touched. Not like my friend Jenny who would rather swim through maggots than have a guy touch her asshole, but I am not that experienced with it. Assplay isn’t something my husband keeps in his standard rotation of tricks. But when this guy’s tongue started flicking across my ass and I could feel his hands gripping my cheeks and stretching me, I went gonzo.

I ground my body against him, I moaned and demanded he lick my ass more. There was no discomfort and I felt no embarrassment. Just dirty exhiliration at the sensation of his tongue probing my ass while his fingers delved into my pussy. He moaned in pleasure as my juices coated his hand and flowed over his palm. Thrusting up into me faster, he slid one of his lubed fingers into my ass, easing it slowly in as his tongue teased me open. My volume ticked up a notch. He slid that finger slowly in and out, stretching my tight, virgin ass. My fist pounded the wall.

Between the fingers filling my holes and his clever tongue it wasn’t long before I was cumming hard, gasping and filling his palm with liquid. He stood, face shiny with my juices and a demonic glint in his eye. He said nothing, just took my arms and led me to the back side of his couch. He bent me forward and without preamble, slid his cock into my still-tingling pussy and pushed his thumb into my ass. I came again in short order, shocked and amazed at how good my body felt.

He pulled out of me, grabbed my cheeks and spread me again, bringing the head of his cock to my ass and pressing against me. “Now I think I’ll fuck your pretty ass.” He told me and my pussy clenched and drooled in response even as raw fear swirled in my chest.

He eased slowly into me, encouraging me to relax my body as his cock carefully took up residence in my ass. I was speechless. The feeling of him filling me, the pleasure-filled pain of my body stretching to accommodate him, the sheer taboo thrill of it, all rendered me speechless. All I could do was groan.

And then he started fucking me.

Short strokes to start, just letting my body adjust to it. His hands roaming me, flicking my clit, teasing my pussy, pinching and twisting my nipples, as his strokes got longer. I could hear his breath coming faster, his groans of pleasure echoing my own. His deep voice filled my head with words so nasty I can’t repeat them without blushing. And I loved every second of it.

His hand slid across my back, up to my neck. I grunted as he gripped a handful of hair at the back of my head and pulled roughly. He used my hair like a handle, pulling me back against him, forcing me to meet that hungry cock thrust for thrust. He shoved two fingers into my pussy and the combination caused me to shudder and start cumming again. This time, he joined me. Filling my ass with his cum; conquering new territory in the name of man.

When I woke the next morning with a pounding headache, you could not see the red marks on my skin. I barely remembered the cab dropping me off at home. But my ass was sore and I smiled every time the familiar ache went through me that day. I don’t even remember his name. But I sure as hell remember what he did to me.

And that’s my confession.

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Sly Tendrils

They get me every time. Those sly little tendrils of hair across her eyes. It is a love/hate relationship. I love the feel of those strands. The softness of them against my palm as I push her face down onto my throbbing cock. I love the way they tickle my skin when she drapes them across my crotch and strokes my balls with their velvety touch.

But, goddamn them, I hate it when they obscure her eyes.

I don’t know which I love more. Those silky strands that form a dark joystick I use to control her mouth. Or the hazel promise of pleasure I see when I look into her large, expressive eyes. They both unnerve me. The mere touch of her hair across the back of my neck makes my crotch ache. The way she has of looking at me just so, a flicker of pure, unbridled sexuality that catches me off guard and makes the room feel like it doesn’t have enough oxygen.

You would think that after this much time, I could control myself. I’m a grown man after all, not some hormonal teenager. In spite of that, I’m no match for her. She disarms me with her lively conversation. Standing just beyond reach, her mind engaging me, drawing me in. Casually, she will lean over the counter and my train of thought begins to derail as my eyes are drawn to the curve of her ass. My mind begins racing, palms itching to make contact with the soft pale skin beneath her jeans.

Slowly she will move in, closing the distance between us until we are nearly touching. I will catch her scent, the same fragrance that will linger on my sheets the following day. Her laugh taking on on a husky edge and that familiar sparkle beginning to shine in her eyes. She will throw down a flirty remark, an indicator that her mind is no longer on the topic we are discussing.

As I sit there slightly dumbstruck, contemplating my move, she will look up at me and like a trap door opening, reveal the fire burning in her eyes. My crotch responding, my cock will start to fill in anticipation of the slick prize that awaits me.

And then, like a coup de grace a tendril will fall slyly across her cheek. Unconsciously, I will reach out to drag the loose strands off her face so I have an unobstructed view of that glimmer of sex; the erotic pledge in her eyes. The feel of her soft hair in my fingers will prove my undoing. It is in that moment the battle is lost. My mind gives way in a shudder, my cock strains belligerently demanding satisfaction. Then my willpower flees, my desire grabs the reigns and I know that I won’t be satisfied until I am buried inside her, painting her in my most primal shade.

This is my undoing. To fuck her is to give a piece of your soul to her. Not something I usually like to do. But I’ll do it. Not because I want to, but because of those sly little tendrils.

Damn them.

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Security

He’ll only break your heart.

You don’t see it yet, but perhaps in time you will. He will use your firm body as his fuck toy and when he is done with you, he will cast you aside. You don’t see it yet, but I have seen it many times before.

Most people don’t stop to think about the things I see from my lone post; the security desk in the lobby of a large commercial bank building. They don’t realize I hear their cell phone conversations as they wait, feet impatiently tapping for the elevator doors to open. They forget I am there when they walk by, gossiping about their co-workers, lovers, spouses. I have borne silent witness to the comings and goings of the occupants of this building, five days a week for 17 years. My job is to keep watch, and watch I do.

I watch the cubicle drones shuffle past, clutching their Starbucks in one hand and last shreds of hope in the other. I quietly observe the power players who parade the halls as if every square inch of marble and polished wood is their birthright. I watch the eager young faces showing up for work each morning, hungry to carve their niche in their industry. I let my gaze roam over the figures of the women in their pencil skirts, daring blouses and tight pants with unimaginably high heels. The kind of girls he tends to favor with his sleek attention.

But you are different.

When you enter the building each morning between 8 and 8:15 a.m., you smile warmly at me. Some days the smile is stretched thin, like a sheet of pressed, pink fruit being strained. But most days your smile is luminous. I envy the raindrops that cling to your hair in the winter, just as I long to be the sunlight that warms those glossy strands in the summer. Those silky strands that he runs through his fingers. The dark satin he wraps his fist around when he pulls you tightly to him as he fucks you.

I don’t know when it started. But I caught the all-too familiar exit strategy: he leaves via the stairwell exit, you follow a minute later, flushed and slightly disheveled. I have worked here longer than he has and I know his game well. Though he sickens me, there are times when my curiosity is too much and I stand just inside the stairwell door and listen. I listen to the soft grunts, the breathless moans, the disgusting names he uses on the most beautiful of women.

I have also heard their sobs, the ones he sheds like a dry skin, sloughed off on the stairs when someone new has caught his eye. I have seen the dull expressions on their faces for the weeks and months afterward as they mourn the loss of their own private poison. I have even gazed carefully aside, holding the door as they fled out into the street, dramatically streaming tears and leaving behind good jobs. I have watched them throw their careers on the altar of lustful disgrace.

Other than a general disregard for him and his wanton partners, I have never cared before. Other than the odd twinge of sympathy I have not been moved by these brief little displays.

But you are different.

When it comes to you, I can’t help myself. I ride the elevator immediately after you disembark, just so I can breathe in the scent of your perfume. I ride up all 23 floors, inhaling the scent and imagining the taste of your skin. I linger in the stairwell, my cock finding its way into my hand, my cum finding its way onto the floor, gripping myself tightly as I listen to him fuck you. I can tell the difference between your orgasms. I know the nuances of them, from the ragged sounds of vaginal release to the ones you have when he takes his mouth to your dripping bud. I know from experience the sedate brutality of his kiss. I can see how swollen your lips get afterwards. I watch you walk on unsteady legs, knowing your ass is bright red from his spankings. I know the effect he has on you: how wet he makes you. There was that day in April when he fingered you to orgasm as the elevator descended. You were so shaken you didn’t realize you left your panties on the floor of the elevator. They were damp with desire. They are mine now.

I never say a word. I just hold the door, push the call button for the elevator, greet you, talk about the weather, tell you to have a nice weekend. You have been here three years and have no idea how long I have worshipped you. You are in love with him. In that way that all young, inexperienced women have of falling for the wrong man, you have decided he is your very own Prince Charming. I know differently. And one day, when his sweet attentions are turned towards another, you will know too.

He is going to break your heart. And when he does, I am going to break him.

*****************

Leslie and Tina bustled back toward the elevator with their expensive, flavored coffees in hand. As they walked Tina gestured toward the elevators with her coffee. “…It was almost a year ago. Yeah, he worked for the investment firm up on the 19th floor. He was working late one night and the next morning they found him at the bottom of the elevator shaft.” Leslie gasped in horror as she turned her wide eyes to Tina. “No way! I heard about that on the news!” Tina nodded sagely. “Yup. Sad too, he was only 28 and such a hottie.” Their conversation was cut short by the bell that signaled the arrival of the elevator. “So what are you plans this weekend?” As Tina began her answer, she nodded a greeting to the security guard at his desk nearby. They stepped inside and Tina punched the button for their floor.

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