The Fair - In the Booth
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Posted:Mar 18, 2009 11:12 am
Last Updated:Nov 3, 2014 1:27 pm
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The Fair ‒ The Pie Throwing Booth
The smell and sounds of the fair were electric. The smell of cotton candy mixed with the musky aroma of popcorn…… hawkers calling people to their stalls. Clanging bells and carny music filled the air. Somewhere in the distance someone shouted as they won a prize. Leah mingled through the crowd ‒ moving in the direction she knew her booth was. Laughing to herself, she felt wonderfully free. Her husband thought she was a bit crazy, but knew her well enough to know she was looking forward to the weekend. Only Leah would volunteer to have pies thrown at her! And for a whole weekend! Though the fair was only 100 miles from home, it seemed like a good idea for her to plan on staying over. I saw her as she passed. Blonde hair ‒ cut short…. Big blue eyes. There was something about her ‒ seemed to be really enjoying the environment ‒ not just the fair ‒ it was like she was a on vacation or something. Just seemed happy, alive. On an adventure. Intrigued, I followed, at a short distance. I liked the way she walked ‒ had that sway that comes with a woman who is comfortable. The skirt swished around her calves… a light cottony summer skirt cinched at her waist with a belt. Her ankle boots flashed in the sun kicking up little spoofs of dust. Her blouse was a silk oversize shirt ‒ not too big. I could see from the lines through the thin cloth ‒ that she wore a camisole and a bra beneath that. I smiled to myself ‒ remembering the bounce of her breasts as she passed. She wore her breasts proudly. Wore them well. It wasn’t long before she came to a stop ‒ a booth for some charity. It was a pie throwing booth…. There was a woman with her head extended through a hole in a canvas about 10 feet from the counter, waiting for someone to buy a ticket and throw a whipped cream pie at her. Her hair was wet, obviously rinsed of the cream. My curiosity was now roused. Idling nearby I listened to the woman at the counter talk to her. “Leah, Glad to see you’re here. Alice is going off duty ‒ you’re on in 10 minutes. All you have to do is stick your head through the hole and smile at people. Maybe call them some names to egg them on. The entrance to the booth is in back, it’s a covered tent so you’ll have some privacy to change out of those nice clothes.” I noticed for the first time that she had a small bag along with her purse. Clothes, I thought.
Walking around the tent, Leah found the entrance in back. Pushing herself through the flap opening, she saw Alice’s rear end, as she bent over with her head through the hole. Putting her purse down, she opened the other bag. Glancing at the door she saw that nobody could see in. Looking back at Alice ‒ she saw that whipped cream had come through the hole and had made Alice a creamy mess from the chin down to her belly. Unbuttoning her shirt, she hung it on a peg attached to the tent pole. The room was small, she had to maneuver a bit not to disrupt Alice. Next came the camisole, which she folded and placed in the bag. Then ‒ thinking twice ‒ she removed her bra so it wouldn’t get damaged. It was the only one she brought. Grabbing into the bag she pulled out a T-shirt. A bit thin, but then she has planned on wearing a bra when she packed. No big deal, it was private in here. She scratched where the tight band had constricted her below her breasts, and slid the shirt over her head. Just then Alice jerked, and she realized that Alice had been struck by a pie. She smiled. Taking the step to Alice, she tapped Alice on the back. Alice shrieked, and Leah realized that Alice hadn’t heard her. Probably all the noise and activity on the other side. Moving back into Leah, Alice removed herself from the hole. Cream dripped from her forehead. “Thanks.” Said Alice. “It’s been a lot of fun but I have a date. A guy who kept coming back to throw at me. I think I’ll find out who he is.” “Just stick your head through here.” She pointed at the hole. “they wipe your face off after every hit ‒ but don’t worry, it doesn’t hurt at all and people are pretty bad shots.” With that she picked up her bag and scampered out the door in search of Mister Pie Thrower. Leah checked to make sure where her belongings were, and lowered her head to the hole, pushed it through. She found that they had set a wooden bar across the bottom of the hole so she had somewhere to balance herself and get a grip. It was an exciting view from this position. People passing by ‒ seeing Joan, the counter person from the back, the noise and clamor….. a happy carefree energy gripped here and she started calling out to people to come try their luck.
I watched her slip through the flaps and waited. It wasn’t long before the first face in the hole, a young woman with wet dark hair, came scampering out and ran on down between the tents. I gave her a couple of minutes, and went to the flaps. What an enticing sight greeted me. Bent over, facing away, was the woman in the skirt. I knew her head was through the hole and felt comfortable that she couldn’t hear me. Glancing down I saw her white camisole in her bag, her bra atop it. Her purse was closer to her. Her skirt, red and white light cotton, swayed with her ‒ obviously when she turned her head it caused her butt to swing back and forth. Very nice. I watched for a minute, wondering what she looked like beneath it. Moving next to her ‒ I got a side view. It was a voyeur’s fantasy. She was having great fun ‒ I could hear her yelling….. oblivious to me being inches from her. I bent over and stared at her breasts, bouncing a bit in the tight T-shirt. I could see the color of her areola, just a hint of color. This lady had some nice tits. Hanging as they were ‒ they filled the shirt nicely. And moved with their weight as she moved. Full and fleshy. Curious, I moved behind her and lightly grasped the hem of the skirt. Lifting slowly, very very slowly….. I was able to bring it to a level where I could see her legs. Long legs. I remembered that she was somewhat tall ‒ 5-6 or 5-7, and it seemed that a lot of it was legs. Not skinny model legs, but full strong healthy les. Nice ‒ the tendons a bit taut from the position she was in. Bending over, I looked up her skirt. Inside I laughed at myself, feeling like a schoolkid looking up some girl’s dress. Hell, that’s exactly what I was doing! I saw the bottom hem of her lacey white silky panties; lace trimming disappearing at the juncture of her crotch. This lady enjoyed her lingerie.
Leah wasn’t sure what it was that told her something was amiss. Probably the draft at the back of her legs ‒ but something told her that something was going on in the tent. At first she thought it might be Alice back again…….. but it was different from that. Her immediate reaction was fear….. but maybe it was nothing…… then….. she grinned to herself. Maybe it WAS something. Maybe her husband had followed her and decided to play a prank on her ‒ maybe, but that didn’t seem like him. But then, you never know. Maybe it was her old college boyfriend who knew she was coming here. Sure, like her, he was married too, but you never know what he’d come up with. He was fun, and she was hoping to run into him, at least for a chance to chat. At least. Her attention was brought back to the booth as a young girl got a ticket from her dad and gave it to Joan. Grabbing a pie ‒ she used both hands to try to throw it, and missed by several feet. She got a second one, tried one-handed, and got closer. They turned to leave, and Leah realized with a start that someone was in the tent with her, was touching her buttocks.
I watched her jerk, and realized that someone had thrown a pie at her. Her breasts moved marvelously with her movements. As she straightened herself up, I gently rested my hand on her upturned buttocks….. right as she jerked again. I left my hand there, feeling the warmth of her, and the softness of her body.
Leah stopped, concentrated her thoughts on her buttocks. Yes, there was a pressure there. Firm, unmoving. She thought for a moment ‒ she could cry out, pull back into the tent and confront whoever it was…….. or…… she could just stay as she was and see what developed. Her mind raced with possibilities….. who….. why…… what….. Thinking back to her entry to the tent she knew there was a degree of privacy ‒ but only a little. And she knew, all she had to do was scream, and whoever it was would be apprehended. So, whoever it was, obviously khat her purse was inside, but they would new her. Maybe? She remembered her promise to herself to throw caution to the wind this weekend…. To play and enjoy herself. To laugh…. Taking a quick inventory ‒ she remembered that her purse was at her side. It would have been gone already if theft was the goal. Her clothes were….. HER CLOTHES ! She realized that she had taken off her bra and was just wearing a T-shirt. This brought a big smile ‒ “Well I hope they get a good look!” she thought….. and was surprised to feel her nipples stiffen just a bit. She made up her mind to wait and see….. She called out to a passing couple to throw a pie at her.
I knew she felt my hand on her. I felt her start for a moment. Then stillness. Then I heard her call out to someone ‒ egging them on to come throw a pie. I relaxed ‒ if she was going to scream, she would have done it already. But you never know. Emboldened ‒ I moved my hand across her buttocks, feeling the warm flesh. Molding it beneath my fingers. Gripping gently. Running my hands freely over her. I saw a chair in the corner, pulled it over to her side and sat down. This put my head at about the same as hers outside the tent…… and at a much better level to appreciate the woman in front of me. From here I was able to reach down and run my hand up under her skirt.
Leah felt the hands. They were squeezing her ass… fondling her. It wasn’t really arousing ‒ it seemed more funny, maybe a little erotic. It definitely had her mind racing as she wondered who was back there. There was a pause…… then the hand was back…. Low on her leg….. slowly sliding up her calf… along the back of her thigh. Now this was getting interesting. Sort of a tickling sensation as the fingers worked their way up…. Higher and higher. She found her voice caught in her throat ‒ cleared it ‒ and called out to people again. Felt the hand continue its upward journey. The hand came to rest on her ass cheek, hot through the silk panties. She thought, and remembered which ones she wore, was glad it was a nice pair. What a crazy thought. The hand touched her boldly, pressing and probing the crack of her ass…. Teasing along the line of the panties. Then…. She felt it grip the waistband….. and slowly tug them downward. They stuck, and a second hand joined the first, running up the front of her skirt, gripping the panties from the front. One hand in back, the other in front, she felt the smooth material slide downward, breaking free of their grip on her body. She felt the elastic of the panties tight on her thighs, as the sensation moved ever downward. Then they were gone.
I was surprised that the panties came off so easily, a testimony to good clothing. Doesn’t have to grip to stay in place. Lying in a pile at her feet, draped across the tops of her short boots, she looked delightful. There is something so erotic about knowing that a woman is naked under her clothing, vulnerable to you. Knowing that you made her that way. I tapped the right boot and she lifted it, obviously understanding my intent. Then the other and the panties were mine. I stuffed them in a pants pocket and turned my attention back to her.
Leah felt the breeze on her most sensitive parts. Realized with a start that she was getting wet ‒ surprised because she hadn’t thought this little adventure to be particularly sexy. Her thoughts were focused on the activity behind her, and didn’t notice that a young couple had purchased tickets, and the young man was about to throw a pie. She saw it coming, but couldn’t move her head fast enough, and the pie grazed her forehead, dripping whipped cream down her cheek. Her attention now focused ‒ there was no way she could avoid the next, which hit her on her already creamy cheek. She looked through her tousled creamy hair, and watched the young man pick out a prize, and realized that the hands were taking new liberties.
I watched her jerk, knew she had been a target again. That meant another pie would be coming, so I timed my movements with her…… brought my left hand to her crotch as the pie struck. My hand rested on the inside of her thigh…. At her crotch…. My thumb moving through her pubic hair. Nice, light hair. I traced the length of her lips and felt a dampness. Moved my hand tighter against her and molded it to her shape. It was a tight fit ‒ so I tapped the hand back and forth between her thighs….. Smart woman ‒ she knew what I wanted and spread her legs a bit. A few more taps and she spread even more. I liked this woman!
Joan was wiping her face when she felt the taps at her crotch. It was only a minor adjustment to spread her legs….. Then came the second set of taps….. and she spread her legs as wide as she could and still keep balance. The hand came back to her…. Stroked her pussy…… traced a line along her slit…. Back…. Toyed a second at her anus…. Then up to the top of her crack. Then the fingers came back down… stopped and toyed again….. and moved forward all the way along her labia….. continued and came in contact with her clit. There the fingers probed, toyed with her sensitive button… she felt them slide up inside her, just slightly, and bring back her juices to her clit. And stroke….. ever so gently….. ever so teasingly…… just a whisper of a touch…. Then more firmly…. Then softly…. Lingering…. Then gone…. Then back again somewhere else. She was finding it increasingly hard to concentrate on the fair and shout to people.
With her legs spread wide ‒ my fingers had complete access to her. She was surprisingly wet ‒ was beginning to move with my hand ‒ trying to control the sensations. My hand, up under her skirt, was getting soaked with her juices. I could feel her heat. With my other hand I reached over and grabbed the hem of the skirt…. Pulled it up, and piled it on the small of her back. I marveled as her flesh came into view ‒ soft and white with freckles. Smooth. Tender. A lovely ass ‒ protruding back for me ‒ for whatever I wanted to do with it. Evil thoughts crossed my mind, wondering what it would look like, what it would feel like, how it would respond after a sound reddening. How her tender skin would be hot to the touch and oh so sensitive. Noises out front caught my attention, caused me to look that way, and I saw her nipples sticking through the T-shirt. Hard, reaching out for attention. Continuing to work at her pussy, to slide fingers through and along her slit, to slip them inside and use her juices as lubricant for my play…. I reached up with my other hand and grasped the nipple nearest me.
Feeling the cool breeze on the backs of her legs…. Feeling the skirt pulled atop her waist ‒ gave Leah a feeling of delicious vulnerability. Hadn’t she kept quiet when it started? Hadn’t she lifted her legs so he could pull off her panties? Hadn’t she spread her legs TWICE to give him access to her moist core? Hadn’t she moved to make it easier for him? Oh God ‒ and now ‒ he is pinching the nipple ‒ sending sparks of feeling through the rest of her. Then she felt the hand leave her nipple… travel to the bottom of the T-shirt…. And lift it towards her head. She felt it catch on her breasts ‒ felt the material scrape across the ultra sensitive nubs… felt her breasts spring free when the hem of the shirt was clear of them. She felt his hand move to the back of the shirt ‒ sliding it up to be bunched at her neck. And she felt the decadent freedom of her breasts as they swung free ‒ all while that maddening hand continued to torment her pussy… sliding fingers in and out… pinching her clit….. pressing and toying with her anus…… then starting all over. It seemed his fingers were everywhere.
I liked the look of her breasts as they hung there for me. Reached up and cupped one, feeling the nipple bury its way into my palm. Grasping it, feeling its weight, squeezing and caressing. I wondered if I could make her cum this way ‒ then laughed at myself ‒ wondering what people on the other side of the tent would think. I wondered at how sensitive her ass might be, she seemed to swoon a bit when I played there. She was definitely ready for fucking ‒ her ass looked great stuck in the air as it was. But, maybe I’ll bring her along a little more first. I want her to be good and hot when I stick it in.
Leah felt herself beginning to lose composure. The hands were moving faster ‒ sliding in and out of her. She wondered how many fingers he was using. And the hand at her breasts ‒ teasing, tickling, grabbing, pinching ‒ sudden sharp pain in the nipples as he dug his fingernails in ‒ followed by soft touches and tingles along the flesh as he traced his fingers. She didn’t even notice the young couple come up to the counter and buy a ticket. She saw them ‒ but it didn’t register. The hands moved faster…. Going deeper and deeper into her…. Spreading her then leaving her empty. She felt her juices drip down the inside of her thigh. The first pie missed… and somewhat brought Leah back…….. Then the fingers did something new, she didn’t know what ‒ but it felt sooooo gooood. She managed a smile at the couple and was again lost. She thought of what she must look like. Her head stuck in another room, another world. Her body, naked and free ‒ open and vulnerable. Defenseless against the onslaught of…. Of…… Oh God, she didn’t even know who it was. Some unknown person was having their way with her, and she was helpless…. No she was letting it happen….. no she was wanting it. She was wallowing and swept away by the wantonness of it all. It was like the two sides of who she was ‒ one side shown to the world ‒ and another lost in debauched passion. In lust. In animalistic hunger. Some unknown person had his hands all over her, right here in public with everyone around, right under their noses. Someone was using her, toying with her, bringing her to life. Smack. That pie caught her directly in the face ‒ but somehow it didn’t matter. The gooey cream dripping off her face reminded her of sperm, like a hundred men had come on her face and it dripped slowly off. She licked ‒ and tasted the sweetness ‒ the gooey goodness ‒ the sweet male taste that her mind imagined. The hands worked faster on her….. bringing her closer. Oh No ! I’m gonna cum. Right here in front of everybody ‒ and I’m not going to be able to keep from screaming. She fought the urge ‒ fought with all her soul. And yet the hands continued their work. And her body continued to respond. Joan approached her with a soft damp cloth, to clean her face. Grateful for the cream to hide her face, Leah turned to Joan for the cleansing. Joan was gentle, caring, and warm. The warm cloth smoothed across Leah’s face…. A soft caress with a warm cloth…. Added to the erotic feeling. Leah felt herself being ravaged in one world and nurtured in another. She felt the soft goodness of Joan and the savage debasement of her body all at the same time. She felt herself loved and cared for and at the same time used and exploited. Adoration and lust. It was too much for her and she felt herself begin the final acceleration toward an inevitable orgasm. A fleeting thought was what it would be like or Joan as she held Leah’s face in her hands ‒ as she screamed out her satisfaction.
“Joan, it’s me, Doris. I’m here for my shift.” The words heard off in the distance ‒ rocked through Leah’s soul. It was the next shift, who would be coming back into the tent and would see her and whoever was there with her. Panic gripped her. She heard Joan say “Glad to see you’re here. Leah is going off duty ‒ you’re on in 10 minutes. All you have to do is stick your head through the hole and smile at people. Maybe call them some names to egg them on. The entrance to the booth is in back, it’s a covered tent so you’ll have some privacy to change out of those nice clothes.”
I was worried when the first pie hit her, thought it might break the mood. But nope ‒ she kept on humping my hand. Then I think the next one hit her square ‒ made her jump ‒ I swear I thought she was going to impale herself on my hand. She definitely ground back against it ‒ it felt like she was about to have an orgasm right at that moment. I got a bit concerned when the girl out front started cleaning her face ‒ but that just seemed to make her hotter. Then the next chick showed up. That was it ‒ I didn’t need her walking in on us. I gave her a couple more thrusts with my hands, pinched her nipple goodbye. And pulled her clothes back in place. I really hated to hide that nice flesh, but then I had other plans. Turning to leave I saw her clothes bag, with her bra on top. I grabbed the bra, and slipped through the flaps. Kinda pissed ‒ I had a hard-n that would break a diamond ‒ and her ass looked so good. Better safe than sorry. I went off to watch from afar. End Part 1
Leah felt her clothes fall back in place as Doris rounded the corner to the back of the tent. She feverishly reached back to make sure everything would look right. She wondered if Doris ran into the “mystery man.” It was a moment later that she felt Doris tap her on the shoulder. Standing upright, she turned away from Doris, unable to face anyone right now ‒ knowing her nipples were hard as rocks and poking through the T-shirt. Looking over she saw that Doris was just sticking her head through the hole, settling into the position. “The Position”. She looked down at Doris, wearing tight jeans and a tank top ‒ visualized how she must have looked just moments ago, nearly naked bent over like that. She sould still feel his fingers on her nipples, saw just how easy it was for him to have access to them. Even Doris, not as busty, looked erotic with her breasts hanging loose in her tank top. And the way her ass stuck out…….. “Oh God” she thought. I must be turned on if that skinny chick is looking sexy to me.
Pulling the T-shirt over her head she worked as fast as she could to get dressed….. but her bra was missing. Digging through the bag she felt her naked breasts bouncing into each other as she dug…. Reminding her of her state… her nakedness and her arousal. Everything seemed just a bit confusing. No panties either, that bastard must have them. Pulling her camisole over her head, she adjusted her breasts…. Then pulled on the blouse. As she buttoned it she noted that her nipples were still hard ‒ still begging for release. That realization somehow seemed to make them even more turgid. But they would settle down soon, she knew that. As she turned to walk out she felt the breeze on the juices dripping down the inside of her thighs ‒ which reminded her of her that she was naked under the skirt. She didn’t mind not wearing underwear ‒ but usually around the house and only when it was her decision. Pulling at the flap. She left the tent. Nervous….. where was he? Who was he? She walked to the aisle in front of the counter…. Looked both directions, didn’t see anyone who seemed to be “the one”. Walking slowly, looking around, she sought him out. As she walked she felt her labia, still blood engorged, a bit tender from his hands. Distracting. Purse in one hand, clothes bag in the other, she searched faces. Looked at men as they passed. Watched how they looked at her. Who was he? Which one of these…. She trembled. Someone out here had been with her. Had undressed her. Had toyed with her like she was a common slut. Had exploited her helplessness and used her. Someone out here ‒ was probably watching her right now ‒ watching her search and seek and worry ‒ someone out here KNEW. And she didn’t know who that was. Peering into the faces, watching men of all ages and all sizes and all races ‒ she realized just how helpless she was. What if he looked at her ID and knew who she was? What if he took pictures and did something terrible with them ‒ like post them on the Internet? What if he came to her some night and….. Worried thoughts accompanied her ‒ and there was something else. A bull of a man ‒ probably an ex-football player passed ‒ and as she looked at him, she wondered. Wondered if it had been him who used her ‒ wondered what it would have been like if he had just taken her in his strong arms…… Then there was the tall black man….. and she wondered how he might have looked…. His dark skin against hers. And there was the fat truck driver who leered at her as her passed ‒ what if he had his grubby hands on her? Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, she began looking anew. This way, down that aisle, in that line… And her mind went back to relive the scene. She shuddered. She had let it happen. She had dared him. She said nothing ‒ even helped him. And ‒ something long dormant was awake. There was a delicious debauched feeling to the whole thing. She had been helpless. She let herself be vulnerable ‒ let him have his way. She had experienced two worlds at the same time ‒ the wholesome activity of the fair on one side of the curtain ‒ while behind the curtain unspeakable and unseen things were being done to her. On one side of the curtain she was a proper volunteer for her charity while at the same time her body was leaking fluids of arousal ‒ was being mauled by some unknown man ‒ was being prepared to be surrendered like a lamb at the sacrifice. The thought made her shudder. The thoughts clouded her reasoning….. As she walked, she noticed that more men were staring at her ‒ at her chest. Looking down she realized suddenly ‒ that her erotic thoughts had brought her nipples back to attention ‒ they pushed through the camisole and made points, hard dramatic points, against her blouse. A moment of minor embarrassment, then anger. Her abuse seemed to continue ‒ even now. As she pulled her purse up to shield herself ‒ she saw, standing against a pole ‒ a man. She knew ‒ just intuitively knew ‒ it was him. Bald, white goatee ‒ black sleeveless shirt ‒ she knew. It was the look in his eye; knowing. It was the slight smirk; amused. It was that he was stopped, 20 feet away, just watching her ‒ not leering, but watching. He made no effort to hide his gaze. And, in his hand, he held a piece of while silk cloth. Even at this distance, she knew what they were. Turning to face him directly, Leah walked quickly and purposely at him, swinging her bags as she went. Each step increasing her intent. Each step bringing a new emotion to the surface. She could feel her breath quicken as she approached, could feel the wind in her face and the fire in her build.
I had watched the new girl go in the tent and waited for Leah to come out. She did, looked around ‒ and wandered through the crowd. I followed her ‒ saw that she had no idea who she was looking for. I couldn’t tell if she was pissed or not, but I do have to say ‒ to me it was very sexy. To watch her seek me out, not knowing who I was. Knowing what she looked like under that skirt, that there was nothing under it now. Remembering her taste when I brought her juices to my mouth on my hand. There is nothing as arousing to me than to know a woman is excited. That she is naked and vulnerable to me. That I have the freedom to see how high I can take her stimulation ‒ find out what really, at a deep level, brings out the wanton side of her. Perhaps I am a bit of a voyeur ‒ I love to watch her excitement. To smell it. To taste it. To hear it. To feel it. To watch her squirm. To take her to that level and then show her how to please me. To release her, so she can bring me pleasure. And to share my pleasure with her. Somehow ‒ I felt all of this with this woman, Leah; who I had never met, at least not face to face. A fine woman by appearance, behind the curtain she was something else. There are two sides to her, maybe more. Some things I knew from our time together, she has a submissive streak. Like her curtain experience ‒ it’s probably not something she shows the world. But it’s there. And she is hungry. Eager. And very very sexual. I watched her as she scanned the crowd. Moved to a new position in front of her…. And watched her approach. This time there seemed to be something different in her look. Her eyes drifted more. I saw her look at some bulky college ‒ she seemed to feast her eyes on his size. And there was the black guy ‒ I swear she stared at his crotch. Then the fat trucker ‒ funny, she shuddered at something she thought ‒ but it had an effect. I noticed that her nipples were hard again ‒ pressed against her blouse. She was excited. Still? Again? Didn’t matter. Her nibs were evidence enough for me. Unconsciously I pulled her panties from my pocket, whiffed them, and toyed with them in front of me. Felt the silky wisp of material. That’s when she saw me. There was no question in her eyes ‒ they blazed at me. Her gaze dropped to the cloth in my hands and she cam directly for me…. Stomping her boots into the ground with each step. Her energy forced its way before her ‒ I could feel her coming at me. Her focus was intense. And I couldn’t help but notice ‒ with a bag in each hand ‒ her breasts were gloriously free to bounce on their own, To swing back and forth. Those nubs poking at her blouse, moving up and down and back and forth with each step. Wildly jiggling. What a sight, and she was totally oblivious. I couldn’t help but smile, which was probably what pissed her off.
Leah crossed the twenty feet between them in fast purposeful steps, and as she neared him ‒ he smiled. Fury swept through her. Intense emotion ‒ a mixture of her anger, frustration, pent up desire, embarrassment, and pride. Emotions made her see red as she walked up to him ‒ stopped inches from his face ‒ defiantly looked up at him and shouted at the top of her lungs “GIVE ME MY FUCKING UNDERWEAR!”
It’s amazing how loud a silence can be. Everyone within shouting distance stopped what they were doing and looked at the couple, her with damp hair standing face to face looking up at the bald man. Somewhere in the distance the sound of the fair could be heard ‒ but it too seemed subdued. Silence.
Leah heard her words echo back at her ‒ probably all the way from the Grand Canyon. “Oh my God.” She stammered and her face began to turn red. Gone was the anger. Gone was the fury. In its place was a rush of embarrassment and horror. Staring in his face she saw him smile; warm and sweet, not mocking. He reached out his arms to enfold her, and she let herself be engulfed, trying to hide from the world that stared at them.
It seemed to hit them both at the same moment. The lunacy. The ridiculous circumstances. The hideous dark humor behind what everyone must be thinking. The craziness. And they both started laughing. Together. With each other ‒ huge wracking peals of gut wrenching laughter, heads buried in each others’ shoulders ‒ side splitting laughter. She felt him lift his head as though to talk to someone, and heard him say “It’s OK, it’s an inside joke between 2 old friends.” And the crowd started their own noise again. It was only slightly awkward, for her to step back and hold out her hand; he placed the panties in them.
Leah looked up at him and said “What about the bra?” His response was “You’ll have to have a drink with me to get that back. I like the view.” With that they retreated to a nearby food court. She sat at a table while he brought back ice tea for them both.
Conversation flowed easily between them. They each noticed that the other wore a wedding band, and spoke freely of who they were. He learned that she was only in town for the weekend for the fair, working for her charity. She found out that he lived in Hawaii. His mother had passed recently, and he was taking a motorcycle tour through the area on his way to visit an old Navy buddy on the Jersey coast. Just passing through. Laughter punctuated the talk. He found her to be very sharp. Very sure of herself. Confident and self assured. Not quite what he expected. She found him to be warm and insightful. Intelligent yet not too full of himself. Confident and humble at the same time. Definitely not what she expected.
Leah looked at her new friend sitting across the table from her. It was strange she thought. An hour ago this man was taking incredible liberties with her, actually had her bra hidden somewhere, yet here they were talking about everything but sex. She felt the sexual energy between them ‒ but somehow at the moment it was something that was understood between them ‒ something that was felt and didn’t need trite acknowledgement.
I looked at this lady across from me. Wondered what it was that made me follow her into the tent. Her eyes sparkled when she talked ‒ she seemed so alive. My natural predatory instincts were focused on her, like a lion about to pounce ‒ but this felt like an experience to be savored. He presence warmed me in many ways, and I looked forward to wallowing in it. I felt my imagination begin to think of the possibilities. And felt myself begin to stiffen at the thoughts.
Leah startled and looked at her watch. “Oh Damn ‒ I have another shift at the booth. I have to get going. Can I have my bra?”
I looked at her, smiled and asked “Can I see you later?” I watched as she smiled and said “Yeah, I’ll be done in an hour.” My response was “Maybe I’ll give it back to you then.”
I watched as she stood and turned to leave. She turned back at me and smiled sweetly. I couldn’t resist ‒ and said “Maybe I’ll stop by and visit the booth.” Her eyes sparkled, her smile widened, and she was gone. I watched her walk away, wished I was in front of her so I could see her breasts. End Part 2
The words echoed through Leah’s head all the way back to the booth “Maybe I’ll stop by and visit the booth.” Her breath quickened and she remembered the feelings from earlier. “Maybe I’ll stop by and visit the booth.” When she got there she saw that Doris had a busier time than her, based on the amount of whipped cream under her face. She made contact with Joan and went to the back, through the flaps. She was greeted by the sight of Doris’s butt ‒ straining inside her tight jeans; was reminded of how erotic a pose it was. Saw Doris clutching at the wood bar beneath the hole where her head disappeared, thought that it seemed she was holding onto the top of a bed’s headboard. What a crazy thought. Moving a bit to the side she saw that some of the cream had seeped through the hole ‒ the front of Doris’s tank top was sticky wet. Her tank top clung to her small pet breasts… the sticky drying cream oozing down between her breasts reminded Leah once again of….. Leah sat down on the wooden chair, set her clothes bag on her lap. She dug in, pulled out T-shirt she wore earlier…. And stopped. Glancing at Doris, she watched a drip of cream work its way down Doris’s throat…. Down her upper chest…. And disappear between her breasts under her top. Leah set down the bag, a smile creeping across her face. She placed the panties he had removed, into the bag. They would be just fine there. Standing up she put the blouse once again on the peg on the pole. She would just wear the camisole. She liked the silk against her skin. She knew it would probably be ruined….. and she also knew how it looked, cupping her breasts, held by very thin spaghetti straps. She didn’t need to look, she could feel her nipples tauten, and looked anyway. Smiling, she tapped Doris on the shoulder. Sticking her head through the hole ‒ the memories came flooding back. She had been here before ‒ displaying a goody goody face to the world; but back, behind the curtain….. Watching people amble by. Calling out to them. And all the time ‒ she kept looking ‒ hoping to see Jerry. See his bald head, his flashing hazel eyes. Calling out to the crowd, ever watching…… almost hopeful. Watching. Ready. Hopeful. And wondering. Without thinking she adjusted her stance, spreading her legs a bit…. Remembering before. The action caused a draft, and she felt cool air across her sex. Reminded her she was nude. Alone, back there. Helpless. Vulnerable Open and available. She shuddered. It was probably fifteen minutes into her hour before she felt him. Only one person had thrown pies, and barely grazed her. Fifteen long torturous minutes where her imagination thought she felt him, thought she heard him. Fifteen minutes of her mind playing games with her ‒ bringing back memories and feelings. And then ‒ suddenly, she felt her skirt suddenly lifted atop her again ‒ a rush of motion, not softly like before ‒ then the most wonderfully sensuous touch. She knew what it was.
I watched her walk away ‒ waited a few minutes, and then headed that way. I took my time, found myself enjoying the sight of the young sweeties out strutting their stuff. Normally the young ones don’t do much for me, and today I was struck by how hard they tried to look sexy. There was one brunette who was gorgeous, but then she looked like she didn’t know it, which is probably why she appealed to me so much. In my mind, I was the lion stalking my lamb. There was no question what my intent was. I stayed out of sight from Leah, but was able to see she was in place. I circled the tent and entered through the flaps. There she was. Ass sticking out at me ‒ looking so delectable. I saw right away that she didn’t have the T-shirt on and went for a closer look. Her breasts filled the camisole. It had a bit of a bustier built into it, but not much. Not the type with a built-in bra ‒ just the same light silk encasing her breasts. They swung freely within the cloth and I was taken by the darkness at her cleavage. I could see the nubs of her nipples, partially hard, and slight color from her areolas. Walking around her, I inspected my captive. I saw her panties sitting on top, inside her clothes bag. It seemed that she had left it open on purpose. My willing captive. Pulling the chair directly behind her, I sat down. My head was even with her buttocks, I could smell her musky scent. Reaching down, I grabbed the hem of her skirt and lifted it quickly up and over, onto the small of her back. I the grabbed the front of each thigh and pulled my head forward, burying my face in her crotch from behind. My nose was against her anus, my mouth even with her labia ‒ lips touching hers. My tongue shot out and began to lick her sensitive lips. The sudden motion shocked her, I felt her jerk… and settle. Plunging through her pubic hair, my tongue pushed its way against her skin…. tasting and licking. Swirling and darting. Mixing my saliva with her juices it found inside. My lips devoured hers ‒ squeezed and pushed them. I used my teeth to nip at her pussy, grabbed her pubic hairs between them and pulled. I pushed my head harder and stuck my tongue inside her.
Leah felt the hands grab her thighs…. Felt the pressure behind her and was unsure, until the tongue made contact. She glanced around nervously, making sure that nobody saw her jump, saw the surprised expression ‒ and then again called out feebly for someone to throw a pie at her. She closed her eyes for a moment, surrendering to the sensation, and then opened them again to watch the world go by.
I continued to lick ‒ to chew on the savory flesh. Felt her fluids begin to flow…. Felt her hips undulate just a bit. It seemed that she was pushing back against me just a bit, becoming bolder and excited. I pulled my hands from her thighs and began to tease her legs… running them up and down the length. Teasing her behind her knees. Pinching and grabbing ‒ all the while keeping at her with my mouth. I found a very sensitive spot on the back of her upper thigh, just above the knee ‒ and tickled it mercilessly. Felt her try to drop her bottom to stop it ‒ but I held her in place with my mouth. Then, with one hand, I slowly started the trek up her inner thigh. Pinching my way ‒ grabbing and groping her inner thigh flesh…. As the hand made its way closer and closer to her pussy.
It was getting hard for Leah to concentrate. More than anything she wanted to just close her eyes ‒ yield to the growing arousal. The earlier frustration seemed to arise within her, adding to the current passion. Somewhere, deep in her mind, she feared being interrupted again, not being allowed release. Her sense of helplessness was increased because she could do nothing to speed that completion ‒ or even ensure it. That fear fed her arousal ‒ made her want to cum that much more; her fear of being denied again. The tongue and lips were doing marvelous things to her. She held the image in her mind of what it might look like, him behind her with her head stuck out the hole. She was reminded of pictures of women in old New England, in wooden stocks. She remembered when she first thought about how titillating that seemed ‒ to be publicly held like that ‒ and anybody could come up and do whatever they wanted to you. “Oh God” The memory, and that thought ‒ took her imagination to another level ‒ her fire even hotter. Those women in the stocks, what they must have felt like; and now she knew. The hand was working its way up her thigh, she could feel it. What would it feel like when it joined the tongue……..
I felt something change. It was as if she suddenly started flowing more freely ‒ she bent over further to give me better access. I wondered what was going through her mind, what set her off like that. My hand finally reached her wet soppy pussy, and I ground it against her roughly. Stuck a finger inside her, easily, so I pulled it out and used two. That seemed a good fit, stretched the walls of her vagina, yet slid in and out easily. I twisted them, then began sawing them in and out of her. I pulled my head away from her, my neck stiffening from the angle. And as I sat back, I realized my neck wasn’t the only stiff thing.
Sitting back, I had a great view if her ass. Her puckered anus was right before my eyes. From this angle I could continue to play with her pussy comfortably… and kept shoving my fingers in and out of her. My hand was wet with her juices. Her hips moved in time with my hands.
Leah felt the hand reach her ‒ grope and brab at her ‒ pinch at her roughly. It wasn’t tender ‒ it was animalistic and somewhat savage. Savage ‒ that word came to her and stuck. She was being taken by a savage. She was a helpless heroine kidnapped and by a savage. She was powerless to stop him. Imaginary scenes flashed before her eyes ‒ in all of them she was being ravaged in some way. The hand continued ‒ gripped her flesh and twisted it. Delectably torturous. She groaned, aloud. She caught herself and looked around to make sure nobody heard her above the fair noise. Joan was busy talking to the man in the next booth. The whole world seemed oblivious to what was happening to her, here right before their eyes. That just made it all seem that much hotter.
I glanced around the tent; saw some items that might be fun. A coil of rope, an old wooden ruler, plastic forks, and a cooler with ice and water in it. Reluctantly I removed my hand from her, pulled it to my face, smelled it (heavenly) and licked my fingers clean. Oh, I did like a lot about this lady! Glancing down at my captive, I saw her hips moving back and forth, apparently looking for continued stimulation. I toured the tent, and grabbed some toys.
When the hand left her, Leah felt suddenly abandoned. Once again the fear of denial came to her ‒ but more than that she wanted the stimulation back. The contact. The connection with the savage (there was that word again) who would take her, would claim her, would own her. Would keep her safe and would do terrible disgusting things to her. Would make her do despicable degrading things for him ‒ all the while making her worship him. The absence of the stimulation seemed to give her a chance to come back to her world outside the tent. She called out for someone to throw a pie, feebly. But she noticed motion; that someone turned and looked at her. It was the truck driver from earlier, and he recognized her. She saw him look deeper into her flushed face ‒ wondered if he saw her arousal. Wondered if he knew. Looking into his eyes ‒ she saw something there. Cruelty, Meanness. She also saw him grin, like he remembered her braless tits bouncing around, Nipples hard like pencil erasers. He turned and approached the counter, his eyes never leaving hers. He began to talk to Joan. She felt more helpless than ever. And alone.
Returning to Leah, I stopped along side her. I grabbed her far hand and pulled it free from the wooden bar. Pushing it down her body, I shoved it between her legs, and cupped it over her pussy with my hand, holding it firmly in place. I squeezed and prodded, and she understood that I wanted her to play with herself. She began moving her fingers on her own, clutching at her wet flesh. Pulling my hand back, I saw her distended nipple pressing against the soft material, and pinched it. She jumped slightly. Taking my new toys, I returned to the chair behind her. What a sight ‒ her fingers slipping between the folds of her lips… wet with her juices… caressing her clit, then back to the folds. I watched her slip a finger inside, move it around, then pull it back out. I looked forward to having her masturbate for me later, hopefully. Leaning back in the chair, I placed my feet between her legs, and shoved them apart slightly. She obeyed ‒ she was getting good at following orders. I looked forward to seeing how good. Legs widely spread, I had a clear view from behind of her fingers working their magic. Fingers that knew her sensitive spots, and how to tease them. I wondered if she would make herself cum, then decided that she probably couldn’t chance it. Smiled to myself over her frustrating luscious anguish. I picked up the ruler. I thought about spanking her, reddening her bottom so that it was more sensitive, but knew my hand would make too much sound. So, the ruler. Later I would spank her for being such a slut, but for now, the ruler would add a new sensation just fine. I began smacking it against her cheek rapidly. Smack smack smack smack smack smack smack. Each time moving it just a tiny bit, to find a new tender part of her ass. Smack smack smack smack smack smack smack. Her fingers kept working at her, and I felt her jump. Somebody had thrown a pie.
Leah watched the scroungy trucker pay Joan for some pies. He never took his eyes off hers… there was a malevolent hunger there. It was not pleasant. She felt fear. He was not to be trusted. That was when she felt her hand grasped, pulled from the wooden bar that had been her support. Unseen forces behind her moved her hand down,,, past her belly to her crotch. The contact was welcome ‒ she suddenly felt less alone. The force moved her hand to her crotch, covered her hand ‒ and began to squeeze. The action forced her fingers between her wet lips, scraped her clit. She understood, and began to caress herself. Slid her fingers through her core, where they had played so many times before. It was hard at first ‒ reaching down and playing with herself ‒ up until now she had been a complete victim, a hapless injured party. But now, she suddenly felt like she was putting on a show, even though it couldn’t be seen; was performing for this dreadful evil man who was about to throw pies at her. Then ‒ a flash of pain. Her eyes opened wide in surprise ‒ as stinging sensations began to cover first one buttock, then another. Flashes of rapid tingles of hot sensation that took her attention away from her world in front. That made her miss the fact that the dirty trucker had hurled a pie directly at her face. The pie struck, stuck at her face for a moment, and slid off. Leah closed her eyes to keep the cream away ‒ and welcomed that she had an excuse. The sparks of pain at her ass continued. A heat began to build at her ass. Her eyes closed ‒ she waited for the second pie. Waited. The force returned and gripped her hand, and she realized that she had stopped her masturbation when the pie struck. Sliding her fingers again, she continued the motions. And still the pain in her buttocks spread. Warmth encompassing almost the entire area of her cheeks. Smack smack smack smack smack smack smack Smack smack smack smack smack smack smack Smack smack smack smack smack smack smack The warmth grew. The pain was turning into something else. Some sort of heat ‒ some sort of hyper sensation. Some sort of intense erotic pleasurable stimulation. As she worked her fingers in and out, sliding through the inner reaches of her tender pussy, she felt the beginnings of an orgasm approaching. It seemed all wrong ‒ yet something she would be unable to stop. Behind her closed eyes she felt the build.
Jerry felt her twitch. It was different from her other movements, assumed that she was building to an orgasm. Keeping the ruler going, he watched her fingers digging harshly at her tender flesh. This just wouldn’t do. He wanted to be inside her when she came, wanted to feel her heat on his cock. Wanted to feel her muscles contract around his shaft, watch his erection stab in and out of her as she squealed her pleasure. Call him old fashioned ‒ but especially with this woman, he wanted to fuck her to orgasm. He reached around, grabbed her hand, and made her return it to the wooden bar. Setting down the ruler, he looked approvingly at the bright red ass in front of him. Her juices dripped from her pussy, gaping open from the wide spread of her legs. This was hot ! She was hot, and he had no idea what was going on, on the other side of the curtain. Didn’t matter to him, all that mattered was this hot wanton flesh that was his to do with as he wanted. And he knew what was next.
Leah’s ass was on fire. It was burning and ever so sensitive. And she was so close ‒ hidden behind her closed eyes, behind the screen of whipped cream ‒ she agonized for the orgasm that was only a few strokes away. Just a few….. And her hand was yanked away….. pulled back up to where it started ‒ at that bar beneath her neck. She felt the soft warm cloth that Joan used to wipe her face. Two pies had struck her directly; they didn’t hurt, but it seemed like she was covered in wet gooey mess. She felt the cloth wipe across her eyes, pause, then wipe there again. She felt the goo trickle down her neck… down her upper chest… and she thought of Doris. Wondered if Jerry was watching the goo creep toward her breasts. Joan cleaned the rest of her face ‒ and returned to her eyes again. Finally cleared, she opened them. She wished she hadn’t. There was that nasty man, that crusty trucker, ready to buy more pies. “Oh please”, she thought, “not you again.” That was the moment she felt a hand return to her wet sensitive pussy. Another hand gripped a buttock, and sparks of electric pain shot through her ‒ sparks that somehow seemed to meet with the hand manipulating her tender vagina. She felt fingers enter her, swish around. She looked at the dirty man standing at the counter. Joan was busy talking to the man next door again He grinned an evil grin at her. And then…..
Jerry grasped her hot ass. Squeezed. Ran his hand across the red flesh ‒ it seemed hot to his touch. Pulling his fingers from her wetness, he placed one against her puckered anus, and pressed. Harder… and the finger, lubricated by her juices, slipped in to the first knuckle. He felt her jerk, reacting to his finger. He twisted it… played it in and out slightly, and pressed again. Pop ‒ to the second knuckle. Letting her get used to it ‒ he then pressed again… and found that she was adapting easily, had loosened her sphincter after the initial surprise, and soon he had a finger all the way in.
Leah watched the man with pleading eyes. It was as if he liked the look ‒ liked to see her plead. Liked to see her discomfort. His eyes blazed, and she saw him glance at Joan, distracted with the man next door, then reach down to his crotch. As it arrived there, Leah followed his hand, realized that he was hard ‒ his bulge pushing at the front of his pants. She was distracted by the dirty man in front of her and was suddenly shocked to feel a pressure at her asshole. The entry surprised her and she started, opening her mouth in a surprised “OH”. The dirty trucker squeezed his cock at her face ‒ in an obscene gesture; and Leah knew that her shocked “OH” had been mistaken for an invitation. “Fuck,” she thought. “This is gonna get bad.”
End Part 3
I looked at the sight inches from my eyes. Two flaming red cheeks, my finger buried deep in her ass. The other hand on that hot flesh, squeezing and rubbing. I knew that all of her sensory attention was focused back here, and wondered what was going on out front. She had been pied a few minutes ago, but it was quiet now. My throbbing erection was calling to me ‒ it was begging for release too. Dropping my hand from her cheek, I brought it back up to her sopping wetness ‒ her labia felt full and slick with her juices. I rubbed her clit and she wiggled, obviously very sensitive. I liked that ‒ and continued for a moment. Timing my motions, I moved both hands together, squeezing her clit as I slid the finger into her ass. Then releasing her clit, as I slowly pulled the finger out. Squeeze and in…… release and out. I ran my fingers between her tender lips and down to the opening of her vagina…. And began to finger fuck her in unison, in her ass and her pussy…. Wriggling both fingers ‒ having them touch each other across the thin membrane inside. Twisted each just a bit…. And continued to use both hands on her.
Leah looked at the disgusting man ‒ and he stared back at her. He still gripped his bulge in his hand, squeezing and stroking it through his pants. She found herself alternating between his eyes ‒ ablaze at the sight of her ‒ and his hand ‒ gripping and grabbing himself. Back there, in her other world, her ass was on fire ‒ was an inferno of feeling. But the maddening feeling ‒ the center of her sensory world ‒ was something moving in and out of her ass, probably a finger. Small enough to be comfortable, large enough to affect her. animated ‒ she could feel it alive and moving around within her. Her nerve endings there had come alive with a life of their own ‒ reveling in the friction from the finger. It was as if she could feel every nuance of it, every knuckle, every wrinkle. The movement in her ass was steady…. Slow and sensual…. And she felt the heated presence of his hand, back there, as it dropped from her ass cheek. Felt it wander down to a thigh…. Then back up the inside of her thigh. Anticipation of its target gripped her, and she wiggled a bit. Then it was there…. Something, his hand, mauling at her sensitive loins. Oooooohhhh… it pressed, then encircled, her full clit. Stroked it….. stroked and pressed it in time with the finger in her ass. Squished it as the finger dug deeper into her anus…. Barely tickled it as the sensation withdrew. Time seemed to be standing still ‒ all that mattered was the sensation behind her, and she closed her eyes for a moment to savor it. Her eyes stayed closed as she felt the fingers at her pussy slip between the folds of her lips. Could feel every tinge of feeling as they slipped inside. Could feel them moving ‒ infuriatingly ‒ in time with the sensation in her tight hole. Felt them try to meet within her ‒ having a little battle as they reached out to each other, deep within her. Behind her closed eyes she visualized ‒ that she was being assaulted. Stuck in those wretched wooden stocks ‒ unable to help herself as men had their way with her. Unable to stop them from plundering both her ass and her pussy. Unable to resist the vile things they were doing to her. Unable to keep herself from responding. In her mind ‒ there were vile evil beings taking her from behind, one in her pussy, one in her ass. Vile, evil, decadent, delicious beings. Her eyes slowly opened, glazed with confusion, with lust, with uncertainty. Through the glaze she saw movement ‒ light against dark. Seemingly throbbing movement. Focusing ‒ she realized that her eyes were coming into focus on a hand ‒ that nasty man’s hand her mind told her, still grabbing at his erection. Still stroking it. She didn’t dare look up at his eyes ‒ he might see what she felt. He might know. The bad man. The nasty dirty man. In the far reaches of her mind, it insanely occurred to her; maybe he was one of them. Maybe he was one of those vile, evil, decadent delicious beings. Maybe he was here for her too.
I kept working on her pussy and her ass. She was moving her hips in circles now, in time with me…. Following my every move. Her ass had loosened a bit and I considered a second finger, but didn’t want to interrupt the rhythm. It was intoxicating ‒ her legs widely spread opening her for me. Easy and free access to her most responsive parts ‒ doing whatever I wanted to her ‒ knowing that she had to keep a good face out front. I wondered a bit about the other side of the curtain….. What was she thinking? What was her face telling people? Did anyone know? I knew it was time. Time to bury my hard cock deep in her. Time to fill her. Time to feel her heat surround me. Time to explode within her. Time to have her, to feel her orgasm wash over me, watch it sweep across her. Feel her surrender, her submission.
Staring at the evil man’s hand…. Watching it grasp himself through his pants ‒ Leah became mesmerized. The activity on her body was rhythmic, intense ‒ was taking her to heights she had forgotten. There was a perverse feeling of rightness, that this was her lot. And here in front of her, was a part of her lot. The dirty trucker. She saw the outline of the hard cock. Visualized it. Could picture it, gnarled and wicked. In her mind she saw it ‒ gray and ugly ‒ but drawing her to it like the evil in a snake’s eyes. Hideous and dirty, seeping of fluids from its tip. She found herself wishing he would take it out…. Would unzip his pants and pull it free, so she could see it’s atrocious form. Could watch the drop of fluid ooze from the end….. and drip to the ground. Her eyes ‒ seeing only the hard member of the man across the counter ‒ remained focused there. The ravaging of her private parts was reaching a new strength… becoming insistent. Harsher. More savage. Darker. She saw that hideous member ‒ in her mind she saw it pointed at her, held by that gripping hand ‒ aimed at her ‒ moving closer… and closer… She saw it, smelled it, feared it, needed it. Wanted to taste it ‒ wanted that repulsive organ on her lips… to draw it in…. To run her tongue across its crusty length and suck it deep into her. To have him grip her head between his hands and shove it deep…. And to feels and taste the sticky gooey sperm as he released into her. She wanted that, needed that. To be debased all at once by the evil beings attacking her.
MY need was too great to wait any longer ‒ I wasn’t sure when her shift was over, how much time I had left. I knew I wouldn’t last long ‒ all the playing ‒ watching her respond and get aroused ‒ had excited me more than any time I could remember. Her smell filled the tent. The squishing sounds of my hands in her seemed as loud as the fair sounds. Her body was heaving in its arousal. Reluctantly I pulled my hand from her nether regions, and unzipped my fly. Reaching in, I gripped my erection and pulled it through the hole. It was red and angry ‒ the head seemed bigger than usual ‒ no doubt due to my level of excitement. I positioned myself behind her, rubbed the head against her until I found her opening, slipping and sliding against hew slick slit ‒ and shoved in as hard as I could. Roughly. Savagely. I kept still for a moment. Savored her heat ‒ it was better than I imagined. She was tight. Very wet. I looked down and saw that the coarse cloth of my jeans was rubbing her red sensitive ass. I pulled out just a bit ‒ to see what it looked like with me sticking in her, then rammed home again. My cock glistened with her juices. It wouldn’t take me long ‒ that I knew.
She felt the hands leave her pussy and ass. The change brought her back to some level of reality ‒ and all her thoughts came flooding back through her memory. She saw that the trucker’s erection was still in his pants; knew that it probably wasn’t gray or gnarled or nearly as big as she imagined. Oh fuck ‒ where had her imagination taken her? And she knew in that instant that she had spent some time, seemed like an eternity, staring at the trucker’s crotch. Taking a moment to recover herself, she dared to look up, at his eyes. Dared to verify that this wicked man had watched her ‒ had somehow seen ‒ that she secretly wanted him to come forward ‒ had wanted him to force himself on her. That her momentary dark secret was known. Her eyes met his ‒ he was intent, focused ‒ and it was obvious that he had been staring, watching her every move. That was the moment she felt the cock enter her from behind ‒ barge its way into her depths. Fill her ‒ ram into her without pause. Her eyes opened wide in surpr
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Bag of Tricks - written for a lady friend
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Posted:Dec 17, 2008 8:10 pm
Last Updated:May 25, 2024 4:35 pm
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Glancing into the mirror, you see me standing behind you. The hotel room is dimly lit, the drapes drawn against the afternoon light. You watched me turn the air conditioning off when we entered the room… felt the chill leaving the room ‒ becoming slowly warmer and more comfortable.
I see you smile, remembered our conversation earlier in the day. You had mentioned how much you enjoyed the last time we were together. I remember how we had laughed over the fact that the hotel maid had walked in on us while we were having sex, you bound on the bed. The look on her face !!! While it spoiled the mood for that day we had quite a few laughs ‒ once the embarrassment was gone.
Today you watched me put the Do Not Disturb sign out.
Today you said you wanted a tour of the bag. And, you said, you would trust me to know your limits; that I was free to do whatever I wanted ‒ just to stop if you used your Safe Word. Your trust, in itself, is a turn on.
Standing behind you, I place my hands on your shoulders. The sleeveless cotton blouse is thin and colorful; I can feel your warmth through the cloth. In front of you, on the dresser, lies the black vinyl bag. My bag if Tricks, as I have called it. Your hands rest on the edge of the dresser, on either side of the bag.
You watch as I lean down to you, place my head next to yours ‒ and inhale. You hear me whisper “I love the smell of your hair.” I nuzzle your neck just a bit, and stand back up.
Looking directly into your eyes in the mirror I smile just a bit. The corners of your mouth turn up just a bit ‒ an impish half-smile. Our eyes stay locked as you feel my hands wander down from your shoulders, down your shoulder blades, following your bra straps to the center of your back where the clasp holds the garment together. MY finger pauses there for a moment ‒ I see the sparkle in your eye….. you are waiting for me to loosen the clasp.
I think better of it. My sharp eyes have caught the texture of the lace through the blouse. My thought is that you have worn something special for me….. and I want to appreciate it.
Moving my hands back up to your shoulders, still keeping eye contact with you, I say “Pull your arms free from the straps.”
I watch as you reach up with each hand and pull the opposite strap down, across your elbow, and free from your arm. The straps lie under your arms, your breasts encased loosely in the bra cups.
“Unzip the bag, and pull out the first thing you find.”
You reach forward, look down, and grasp the zipper tab. There is something erotic about the sound of a zipper; its sound echoes through the quiet room. As you bend forward to reach into the bag your ass presses against me. Giggling slightly, you move your hips back and forth playfully, then pay attention to the bag in front of you.
Lifting your hand from the bag I see you have my favorite set of handcuffs ‒ old heavy black steel military issue cuffs. You glance up at me in the mirror, smile broadening just a bit, remembering our last adventure when these held your arms behind you. I watch as you play with them for a moment ‒ holding a cuff in each hand, offering them up for me.
“Not today, put them down.”
You set them on the wood surface. Glance back up. I motion with my head to the bag….. and you reach in again.
A piece of black material is next; you unfold the blindfold used last time. Glancing up at me, you hear me say ”No, today I want you to see everything I do to you. I want to watch your eyes. See into your soul.”
You place the material next to the handcuffs. Reaching into the bag once again I watch you rummage around, grab something, and pull it out. It is a set of leather cuffs, held together by a pair of metal clasps. I look into your reflection in the mirror and say “Put them on.”
It is not easy for you, each takes some concentration and you find that after you manage to get the first cuff buckled onto your wrist that you need to uncouple them to manage the other. I enjoy the sight, watching you struggle just a bit, use your teeth to pull the buckle tight, your breasts jiggling just a bit in the loosened bra.
Finally you hold them before you, a leather cuff on each wrist, the metal clasp dangling between them. My hands, still on your shoulders ‒ make the journey down your arms to your wrists. I watch you in the mirror, watching my hands as I snap the clasps together, binding your wrists together about three inches apart. You pull at the cuffs, find them secure. Tight, but not sharp like the metal cuffs. Flexible, but ungiving.
“I like the leather cuffs. They’re more versatile. Notice how each cuff has a clasp on it? I can attach you to anything. You’ll see as the afternoon goes ‒ I have lots of ideas for you today.”
Slowly I lift the connecting clasps….. higher….. higher….. higher….. until your hands are directly over your head ‒ your arms straight up on either side of your head. You hold your arms up willingly ‒ I keep them in place with my hand between the cuffs.
Looking around your arms at your face in the mirror I say “Shake your tits for me.” I watch you glance down at your chest in the mirror ‒ seeing the blouse material straining from the fleshy globes inside. Moving your body back and forth, your breasts begin a rolling motion, bouncing around in the loose cups of the bra. You glance up and catch me captivated by the sight.
Slowly I bring your wrists down….. slowly…. To the top of your head; then pull them back behind your head. Lifting your hair with one hand, I use the other to place the metal clasps along the nape of your neck, then drop the hair over it. The result is that your hands are held in place alongside the back of your head, the clasps bound behind your neck. Not uncomfortably…. But securely. With a little effort you are able to raise your head to see easily into the mirror; to my reflection.
I move closer behind you ‒ you feel the bulge of my erection…. Have a sense of satisfaction that you are having that effect on me.
Hands move around your waist, come to rest on your belly. No words are spoken….eyes making contact with each other…. Then yours flit to look at my hands at your midriff…. Mine follow yours. You see me move my hands to the bottom of your blouse, toy with a button for a moment. Then move up your rib cage, under your breasts. Then notice the almost surreal effect as the hands encircle your breasts, cupping them, lifting them slightly, testing their weight. The surreal effect of watching hands sliding over your body ‒ watching and feeling and watching and feeling ‒ continues as the hands glide up past the breasts ‒ feel the rich fullness of your upper chest ‒ and come to rest at the collar of your blouse, one on each side.
A violent wrenching breaks the serene moment as I brutally pull the material apart ‒ ripping the blouse open ‒ buttons flying in all directions. A second yank tears the material completely free of the last buttons ‒ it hangs loosely down across your body, open, exposing the black bra and your cleavage. I watch you gasp ‒ surprised by the sudden motion, breath coming in rasps.
Looking up into my eyes I see something new in you ‒ a bit of uncertainty. Not quite fear ‒ just uncertainty. As you look you hear a click, which draws your eyes down to my hand ‒ which holds a knife, open and shilling in the dim light. Our eyes meet again ‒ yours wider open than usual.
The knife slides up to eye level ‒ we both watch as I lower it to your blouse ‒ and cut the rest of the material away from you ‒ first one side, then the other. The knife joins the cuffs on the dresser and I pull the material free from your body, tossing it away.
Your breathing is full; I watch your breasts fill the cups of the bra with each breath. I lean over and whisper into your ear: “I love how your breasts look this way. With your hands over your head like this ‒ it makes them lift up, like they are offering themselves to me.”
“My, this is a lovely bra you wore for me today. I really do like the lace ‒ so feminine ‒ like you. A bit naughty ‒ like you. A little modest, but enticing and alluring ‒ like you.”
Reaching around you, I grip the front edge of the cups of the brassiere, and slowly peel them down and away from your breasts. Your nipples catch on the material, then spring into view as I move the material down. I feel you undulate your hips against me slowly, pressing your ass back against my erection.
I like looking down at your nipples, rather than into the mirror. From this angle I can see how hard they are, how they protrude. Thinking back to our last time together…. I smile.
Grasping a nipple in each hand between thumb and forefinger, I begin to pinch and twist….. and tweak and play and tease and twist. Feeling their firmness. I feel you respond ‒ feel you press back against me a bit harder.
Whispering into your ear I say “I love your breasts. Your nipples are so sensitive. They get so hard. They respond so well. I remember what they looked like when you were kneeling in front of me, sucking on my cock. I remember watching me slide in and out of your mouth ‒ seeing your hard nipples below. I remember thinking what a prim and proper lady you were, kneeling there sucking on my dick like a slut.”
I feel you stiffen.
“Did you feel naughty?” You nod, and I pinch just a bit harder.
“Did you like feeling naughty?” another nod.
“Do you like being my nasty little girl?” a moan
“Do you want to know what I am going to do to you today?” another nod, I feel you lift your breasts higher, increasing the pressure of my hands. I continue pinching.
“I am going show you all the toys in my bag. I am going to use most of them on you. Some of them will hurt a bit, some will bring extreme pleasure, and some will make you cry out in frustration” the pinching and twisting continues.
“I am going to make you do lots of nasty things. I am going to do nasty things to you. I’m not going to tell you now ‒ you’ll have to wait and see.”
“You going to be a good little girl today?” Another nod.
“Be my little slut today, do whatever I tell you?”
“Oh yeah” the first you have spoken in a while.
“Then let’s go back to the bag”
End Part 1
"Now let's see what's in the bag" you hear me say. I move from behind you to next to you, where I can reach the bag and you with equal ease. I pause, and move to stand directly in front of you. It is a bit of a strain with your hands clasped behind your neck, but you are able to look up into my face.
“I just can’t resist” you hear me say. I reach up with both hands and cup your breasts. Squeezing the fullness, I feel your nipples stiffen into my palms. The skin is warm and soft against my hands ‒ each breath lifts them higher to me. With your arms so held, lifted behind your head ‒ the breasts stand high and firm.
“I love your tits. You are proud of them too ‒ I can tell by the way you watch me when I look at them. I have some plans for them today.”
Grabbing your nipples I pull you to me. I rub them harshly against my shirt, bringing just a bit of abrasive pain to them; rubbing up and down and then back and forth ‒ then let them go. Your body is now pressed against me, breasts flattened against my shirt….. my erection pressing into your belly through my pants. You raise your face and I lower my face to you ‒ our lips meet. Tentatively…. Softly…. Just a flick of a tongue….. gentle exploring…… sweet caresses of mouths….
Holding you close to me you feel your nipples ‒ hard and more sensitive from the recent rubbing, pressing against me. Aching for attention.
Motion draws you…. The motion of my hands traveling up your sides…. Along your ribcage….. seemingly toward your breasts again. Unconsciously you arch your back seeking the sensation of my hands.
One hand stops…. Moves behind you…. To the center of your back ‒ seems to be holding you in place.
The other digs into your ribcage ‒ tickling you feverishly.
The change in sensation has an electrifying effect. The tickling feeling is intense ‒ causing you to try to bring your arms down to protect you ‒ but they are bound behind your neck. Twisting, you try to get away ‒ but the hand holds you steady and the tickling intensifies ‒ moving up to your armpit… back down to your ribs. The twisting motion causes your nipples to rub on the shirt, intensifying the feeling from the rubbing. I hear you cry out ‒ not in pain ‒ in surprise and sweet anguish.
I continue the tickling ‒ feel you struggle to try to get away. I hold you ‒ and tickle even more ‒ new spots ‒ bottoms of your arms, ribs, side, wherever I can reach you.
I let go suddenly ‒ and you take a step backward ‒ look up at me.
This is a new look. The sensation is not what you expected. Looking down at you I see your breasts rise and fall with each ragged breath ‒ nipples hard as rocks. You see me look at your nipples ‒ there is something in the moment ‒ the reaction to the tickling ‒ the half-nakedness ‒ the realization that I can do whatever I want to you ‒ the knowledge that you don’t know what I will do ‒ the craziness of the erotic feeling of the tickling even though you hate to be tickled ‒ Somehow all of these feelings coming at the same moment bring a new sense of vulnerability. A new sense of surrender. A new level of excitement. A new anticipation.
Reaching out across the few feet that separate us, I dig my hands into the waistband of your pants. I pull you closer to me… watch your breasts bounce with your step. I see you watching me ‒ see you observing me as I watch your body. I know you like it when I look at you. I know it’s almost like you can feel my eyes on you. There’s something naughty ‒ maybe nasty ‒ maybe almost dirty ‒ in the way I look at you. And there’s nothing you can do to stop me from enjoying the sights. Somehow ‒ that excites you even more.
Idly I reach down to the belt you are wearing and unbuckle it. I play with the flesh of your belly for a moment, then pull the belt from its loops. It falls to the floor. I see you looking down at my hands, which are poised to unsnap your pants. Slowly ‒ very slowly ‒ I grab the snap at your waistband, pull apart ‒ and the pants part. Your gaze on my hands is intent. From the high angle where I stand in front of you I look down through the blonde tresses, see your reddened hard nipples. My fingers grab the tab on the zipper and inch it down …. Down ….. down…… until it hits bottom. My hands rise to the waistband on either hip, grasp the pants….. and begin to work them down your hips. I see your colorful panties ‒ there seems to be a pattern on them….. but they get caught in your pants and peel down your hips with your pants. Down across your crotch, where the fair pubic hair is now seen…… the panties catch in your crotch ‒ suddenly springing free to follow the pants down the length of your legs. The clothes lie in a heap at your feet.
“Kick them away.” I say.
Stepping out of one side, you plant that foot and kick them away with the other. The result is that your legs are now spread ‒ you before me ‒ hands bound behind your head. I lean back on the dresser and place my legs between yours.
Leisurely ‒ I reach down between your thighs, gripping your sex. Your hips thrust toward me and my fingers come in contact with your slit. A finger works its way just inside ‒ finding your wetness. Working the finger back and forth just a bit I say to you: “My my, we are wet. I’m really beginning to think you like this. I think you like being treated like a slut.”
“Look at me”
You raise your head ‒ gaze at me. My fingers keep working through your wetness.
“Do you like my fingers in you?”
“Yes” is your breathless reply. I squeeze a bit harder ‒ grab your flesh in my fist. Grip it. I feel you shudder.
“You like that. You like it when I use you. You like it when I treat you like a little .”
No answer from you, but the wetness increases, seeps over my fingers. I grip tighter ‒ feel you push yourself into my hand.
My other hand rises to a breast, grasps a nipple, and pinches. A moan escapes from your lips.
Smiling to myself ‒ I let go of your nipple and your pussy. I stand erect, move from between your thighs and stand next to you. Nudging you forward just a bit ‒ you are once again standing before the mirror, at the dresser. I look at you ‒ see you looking at yourself. Blonde hair framing your face, framed by arms bound behind your head. You are looking into your own eyes ‒ I wonder what you see there. Your nipples, still red from rubbing on my shirt ‒ are still hard, still seeking attention.
“OK, back to the bag. Let’s see what we have.”
As I reach into the bag with one hand, the other reaches back and grabs your buttock. I like the feel ‒ meaty, full, soft, and sensitive. I grip the buttock in my hand as my hand searches through the interior of the bag, fumbling.
"Hmmmmmm..... what have we here? Oh, it's a riding crop". You watch me pull the piece of rod with a leather flap on its end. "This, my dear girl, is in case you don't do whatever I tell you. You will find that it can be used to heighten sensitivity or it can cause pain. You will feel both. How much of which depends on how well you perform."
I hold the object before your face. Slowly move it in front of you….. swish it through the air. It makes an alarming noise. "Let's see how it works" I say. Reaching behind you I grab your wrists bound at your head, cuffed together. Pushing forward you realize that you have no choice but to bend over ‒ until your head comes to rest on the dresser. You turn your face towards me, your cheek on the wood. I pause, grab the remnants of your blouse, and place it under your cheek for comfort.
“Don’t move. If you do I will show you how this riding crop can bring pain. You are to stay as I position you until I move you. Do you understand?”
Yes sir.” It is the first time you have addressed me with a title. I wonder at that, make note.
Looking down at you I see the whiteness of your skin. The shape of your hips as they blossom from your waist. I see the shape of your ass. Your breasts hang free ‒ lovely globes barely swaying from recent movement. I can’t help but reach down and pinch the nipple nearest to me. I hear you squeal. Then filling my hand with your breast ‒ I revel in its weight. Lovely breasts.
Using the crop I tap between the insides of your thighs ‒ obviously wanting you to spread your legs. You do, and I run my hand down your back, through the cleavage of your ass, and grope your wet sex. I slowly bring the wet fingers back up that path, stopping to probe at your anus for a moment. You shrink away a bit ‒ but don’t move. The first strike of the crop surprises you - but it's more the noise than the pain. Then there's another. And another. Another. Another. Each in a slightly different place. Each a little harder, then softer, then harder...... The noise fills the room...slap,slap,slap,slap,slap,..... a steady pace, but a different spot each time. Fist one cheek, then the other, then somewhere else. Each strike is a little surprise and you find yourself stopping trying to figure it out, and just surrendering to the sensation.
With one hand I continue to use the crop on your ass. Keeping a steady rhythm ‒ but changing the location and intensity of the strikes. The other hand captures the nipple nearest me, begins a pinching and twisting motion. Slap, slap, slap, slap, slap, ........... You ass is beginning to feel warm. You can feel the blood rushing to the skin. warm, slap, warm, slap, warm, slap............
Your nipple ‒ made sensitive earlier ‒ is pulled and tormented by my thumb and finger.
I continue the use of the riding crop, watching your reactions. I am hard now. I see the skin of your ass has changed to a warm red glow. I notice that when I spank one cheek, you tend to direct your ass that direction, like you want more. slap, slap, pinch, pinch slap, slap, I stop. I let go of your breast. "Ohhhhhhh….. please?” It’s a pleading request from you "Why?" I ask. "Do you want more?" "I want whatever you want" you say. “But please ‒ do more.” With that, I take the crop,. bring it around in front of you, and place it against your mouth. "Hold this in your teelth until I need it again". You open your mouth and grab the crop between your teeth. Reaching down I use my hand to spank you lightly, then firmly - finding where the flesh is warmest. The sound is there again, but different..... slap, slap, slap, slap, slap...........
My other hand once again finds your nipple ‒ I am amazed at how hard it is. Your breast bounces against my hand from the force of the spanks. I squeeze the nipple hard ‒ twist hard ‒ squeeze and hold it. You feel your flesh getting hotter. I stop spanking and begin to run my hand across the tender flesh. Squeezing, pinching, rubbing. You are amazed at how sensitive the flesh is. It feels on fire and you can't tell if it's hotter or cooler where my hand touches you. All you know is that it feels. Oh God how it feels ! My hand slips down between your cheeks to play with your pussy. It's even more wet. I dig my fingers in, watch you squirm. In and out - my fingers plunder you. Then they're gone. Glancing up into the reflection you see me licking my fingers. smelling them. Mixing my saliva with your juices. I walk around ‒ directly behind you. You watch as I drop my hands down behind you, fumbling with something - then you realize that I am opening my pants. You hear the sound of the zipper. The next sensation is of my cock, teasing the lips of your sex from behind. You feel it slowly enter you, slipping in, lubricated by your juices. The fit is tight, I have to buckle my knees to come down to the right level to enter you.
I slide in. I can feel your heat. I start pumping slowly, in out, in out. Stop, I enjoy the feeling of your tight wetness ‒ the heat encircling my member. Begin pumping again. You realize that I have merely opened my zipper - you can feel the coarse material of my jeans every time I am all the way in, scratching against your sensitive flesh. The rough material grates against the reddened flesh of your ass. I stop for a moment, buried deep inside you. The feeling is exquisite. Holding your hips tightly against me ‒ feeling me deep within you ‒ I move your hips around in circles, rubbing your sensitive ass against my pants. I feel my cock, hard and deep inside, twirling around in your depths.
The sensations are not lost on you. I can feel your inner muscles grasping at my member. I can feel the heave of your hips to meet me. I can feel your wetness, our combined juices, running down my balls. I begin pumping again. Looking down, I see my hardness sticking out of my pants. It disappears every time I enter, shows when I withdraw. I like the sight.... and watch as you grind your hips back against me. The harsh cloth hurts - just a bit - on your skin. The slight pain draws your attention there, then you notice how empty you feel when I pull out. Pushing back against me you have a mixture of pleasure and .... not really pain..... not discomfort...... But it is definitely heavenly and you push back harder. I increase the tempo - fucking you harder and harder - watching you. I see that you are excited - will cum soon. I keep up the motion, enjoying the sensation and the sight. Looking at your reflection I can see the crop clenched in your teeth. It looks like you would bite it in half if you could. I stop, pull out - and a "plop" sound is heard when I spring free. I stand you up, once again facing the mirror, me behind you. Looking down, I watch your hips continue to gyrate ‒ seeking stimulation. Moving to your side, I reach down and caress the tender flesh of your ass ‒ your hips try to follow my hand. The sight excites me. Reaching down with my other hand I grab the cuffed hands behind your head, and lift you to a standing position again. Your nipples look like they might explode. I pull the crop from your teeth and whisper "there are more toys to try out".
End Part 2 Moving behind you, I rub my hard cock against the small of your back. Watching my motions in the mirror ‒ it s obvious what I am doing ‒ and the sensation of my flesh against yours is maddening…… frustrating. In your mind you picture my member rubbing against your skin. Looking in the mirror you see me looking down over your shoulder. You can’t tell if I am looking at the bag in front of us, or down at your breasts. You quickly find out. “Let’s see what you have in here” I say. I reach around in front of you and grasp a breast in each hand, hold one in hand, and use the other hand to reach into the bag. I continue to tease the nipple. Dropping the breast I reach in front of you ‒ into the bag with both hands. I pull out some sort of straps….. all connected together. I pull it all out and lay it in front of you, on the desk. There is another set of leather cuffs, similar to the ones holding your hands behind your head. “This is a harness, a set of straps so I can put you in whatever position I want, and keep you there. It can be used in a car, in a bed, outdoors, in public under clothes. I can arrange it so that I have whatever access to you I want ‒ and give you as much freedom as I want. They connect to the ones on your wrist” I hold up the straps, show off the leg restraints. “Sometimes just a little restraint enhances the feeling ‒ but sometimes, I understand, there’s just no better feeling than to be fucked over and over and all you can do is lay there and enjoy it.” I feel you move back against me ‒ rubbing my erection with your back.
“Someday soon we will go for a drive in the country. You will be naked in the car, tied so you can’t escape or stop me. I’ll play with you; make you suck on me as we drive. Maybe I will cover you when a truck passes, maybe not.”
“Later today we will use these.”
Setting the straps down, I reach into the bag again. This time it’s a small box. I open it, and you see two small brass balls inside. “Ben Wa Balls” I say. If you haven’t tried them ‒ we will very soon. You insert them inside you and let them rest there. No panties, so you have to use your muscles to keep them from falling out. As you walk or dance or whatever ‒ they roll around inside you. They have a funny way of rolling against your G-spot. I like them because when you wear them they will keep you constantly excited, constantly aware of your femininity, constantly thinking about sex.” What’s fun is that in public nobody but you and I know what’s going on. It’s our little secret, and I get the benefit when we’re alone.” I look down over your shoulders at the bag. I am distracted by your breasts, so I pause for a minute to caress them. I say, “ Bend over” You do, and feel me enter you again. This time the skin is a bit less sensitive when I push deep into you. Now you can feel me in you more clearly ‒ less distraction. This time it feels familiar, like our sexes know each other. There’s a comfort in the sensation. Sliding in and out of you I feel you getting wetter and wetter. There’s a niceness to this coupling ‒ even though my cock is just sticking out my pants and your hands are cuffed behind your head. Somehow it just feels nice. Looking into the mirror I see you staring up at me. Our eyes meet, then you see my eyes lower just a bit ‒ taking in your breasts. You look in the reflection and see that they are hanging ‒ full, swaying with the motion of our coupling. “That’s enough” I say ‒ pulling out “plop” and standing you back up again.
Reaching into the bag again you see me pull out some small chain items. “Nipple Clamps” I say. “See, there are different kinds here.” “These” I say “will hold onto your nipples lightly. They provide a simple function keeping them hard and excited. Notice that they are heavy ‒ so that they will create motion, and feelings, as you move.” “These” ‒ I hold different ones out, “are adjustable. That way as you get used to them I can change the effect they have on you. Maybe comfortable at first ‒ then tighter ‒ then maybe tighter yet, then maybe loose again.“ “These” I say ‒ holding up another set, “are for when you’re a bad girl. They won’t do any damage, but they bite into the flesh and cause discomfort when they are moved. You’d be amazed how effective, and erotic, they can be”. You look down at the little clamps, see that they have a menacing look to them. Their little jaws look strong, small teeth line the clamp mouths. Putting all the clamps down, separated so you can see them, I say “The most fun is when you take them off. The blood rushes back into your nipples and they hurt for a minute ‒ then become extremely sensitive. All that blood rushing bac into them ‒ makes the nerve endings come alive. That’s what I like ‒ when there’s too much sensation, when your nipples are too sensitive to touch. I wonder if I can make you cum just from stimulating your nipples?. “Let’s see, shall we try one?” I feel you back into me, against my hardness. I grab the “light” ones, much to your relief. “I see I don’t have to do anything to get them hard” I say. You see that I am looking down at your breasts, proudly displayed and lifted by your arm position. There’s a sharp bit of pain as your nipple is clamped ‒ which quickly goes away. You feel the tugging on the chain as I move to the other breast. The same pain is felt there, which passes. Grabbing the chain that joins the clamps ‒ I tug gently outward, away from you. The immediate sensation at both nipples seems to send a jolt ‒ somehow straight to your pussy. You feel yourself getting wetter.
Once again I reach into the bag. You notice that whenever you move, even to watch my movements, the chain of the nipple clamps sways, causing a gentle sensation in your nipples. It’s like they are being constantly played with. Your attention is constantly drawn to them.
Reaching into the bag (you feel my erection rubbing against you as I move) I pull out a candle. Matches follow. With both hands in front of you ‒ you watch me strike a match, and light the candle. I set it down ‒ not far from the bag ‒ but far enough to be safe.
“The candle is for a little experiment later. It will be an experiment in anticipation and expectation. It will be an experiment in pain and pleasure. I guarantee you will eagerly accept both, pain and pleasure. Sometimes it’s hard to tell which is more exciting.”
I reach into the bag again. From the bag, I pull out a small cloth bag, open it, and pull a wire-looking thing from inside. “This is a Clit Clip”. I hold it up in front of you. The chain sways, nipples tighten. “It is used to encircle your clit. Like the clamp, there’s a bit of discomfort at first, but then it goes away. What it does is fit behind your clit, then pushes your pussy lips back, so your clit is exposed.” You look at the clip, don’t see how it fits, but accept that it probably does what I say. “I really like the clit clip because it makes your clit so easy to work with you while I am going down on you. My tongue can get at your sensitive spot from every angle. And the clip makes you more sensitive ‒ just like the nipple clamps” I tug at the chain for emphasis; you jerk, and back into me erection harder. “It’s also nice to have you wear it in public. Like the Ben Wa balls ‒ you have a constant feeling of sexiness. The material of your pants rubbing against your clit can drive you up a wall.”
“So you remember what I said about going for a drive with you tied next to me in the car ‒ just imagine what it would be like if there you are ‒ all tied with your legs spread wide ‒ and this little piece of wire is making your clit stand out. I could just reach over and flick it with my finger whenever I liked”
I feel you shudder. Your conservative upbringing cries out against this ‒ and yet there is a carnal curiosity to know what it would be like to be trussed up and played with in public ‒ afraid that at any moment someone might see you. To be helpless at someone’s beck and call. Oh God ‒ how devilishly delicious.
I set the clip down. Reach back into the bag, pull out a red rubber object; a butt plug. A tapered cylinder with a flat elongated base. “The infamous butt plug. Whether you like anal sex or not ‒ these are lots of fun. Stick it in your ass for an additional feeling of fullness. Makes the senses come alive ‒ it’s amazing how many nerve endings are in your ass. I really like them for fucking, wiggling it around while I am inside you. I bet you cum like a rocket with it in you.” “They’re really great for motorcycle rides, especially on old Harleys that vibrate more. Like having a vibrator pressed into you all the time. I also like making you wear it under your clothes while we are out in public. That sense of fullness ‒ and some discomfort. And, of course, when they finally come out you’ll have a feeling of emptiness there ‒ which I love to satisfy.”
“Ya know ‒ I have more toys in there, but I think I want some more personal attention before we go on.” You look up from the bag to my reflection. You watch me reach around and grab the harness straps with the lag restraints and the riding crop. I grab the chain of the nipple clamps and pull, drawing you over to the bed. For the first time you see my hard cock, sticking out from my jeans.
Pulling you along to the bed by your nipples, I stop and sit on it, you facing me. I look up at you, see the nipple clamps in place, the chain swinging back and forth. I reach out and idly play with your pussy ‒ checking your wetness, the other hand sets the toys on the bed.. “Kneel” a simple command. You hesitate, figuring out how to do it with your hands cuffed behind your head. “Do I need to get the other clips, or use the crop?” You recognize the threat, immediately drop to your knees. The action makes your breasts bounce, tingles of pain at your nipples from the clamps. I reach down and point my erection at your face. “Suck” ‒ another simple command. Tentatively you approach my hardness. Flick your tongue out, taste me. Your lips encircle my head, I feel you circling your tongue around it. Taking a bit more in ‒ you apply suction, drawing your cheeks against me. The effect for me is electrifying, for you a sense of fullness. Slowly you begin to move your head up and down, allowing me into and out of your mouth. It’s frustrating not having your hands to work with ‒ so all your attention is on your mouth. “Keep doing it like that for a while, you know how I like it.” In and out, in and out. Your mouth fucks my cock like a pussy. It’s a nice slow pace, which I am enjoying immensely. Looking down I am charged with erotic thoughts. I see your breasts, clamps hanging from the nipples; hands bound behind your head. The only contact between us is my cock and your mouth. Glancing to my left I can see us in the mirror, in silhouette. I can see me sliding into and out of your mouth, your head bobbing slowly up and down. I feel myself jerk ‒ almost cum ‒ and hold back the feeling. You felt my cock jerk in your mouth ‒ thought too that I might cum, but kept the same motion. “Don’t stop sucking, but look to the mirror” I say. You shift just a bit to see. I feel you tense as you see the erotic sight ‒ see yourself sucking.
I begin talking. “Look at how sexy you are. Look how hard you made me. See my cock slide in and out of your mouth. Your mouth looks hungry ‒ you look hungry.” “Can you see your hands, cuffed behind your head? I can do anything I want to you. I can lick you, I can fuck you, I can stick my dick in your ass, I can sit here and let you keep sucking me. “ I can see that my words are having an effect on you. You are straining to see more, working hard not to let me out of your mouth, increasing your tempo. “Think about how you look right now. Excited. Sexy. Slutty. What would people think if they saw you this way?” “I’ll tell you what I think ‒ I think you’re hot. I think you like this ‒ being taken. Being teased. Being used. I think you’ve been waiting for someone to open up this part of you ‒ to throw you over their shoulder, drag you back to a cave, and treat you like the wanton woman you really are deep inside. Like a slut.” Your mouth tightens on me. “This is where you belong. Between my thighs with my cock in your mouth. Your place with me is to be tied the way I want so I can have you the way I want you.” I watch you, watching us. See your breasts bobbing in time with your head, imagining that the clamps are doing their magic. I wish for a moment that I’d put the clit clip on you ‒ so I could lick you and bring you to the edge of orgasm ‒ just before plunging into you. I think of games I could make up for us to play; games designed to get you and keep you excited. I think about the toys still in my bag.
Reaching to my left I grab the riding crop. I shift it to my right hand; reach up to grab the links between the cuffs behind your head with my left hand. You pause your sucking as I move, not sure what is happening.
Holding you head by your bound hands, I lift your head until just the head of my penis is in your mouth. I feel you swirl your tongue around the head, playing with it. You lightly graze the head with your teeth.
SMACK !
The shock of the sound and the pain of the riding crop startles you ‒ and at the same time I pull your head down onto my cock ‒ filling your mouth with my manhood. Momentary fear grips you. The surprise and the shock of the smack unnerve you a bit. You feel your head being pulled back up…. Up the length of the shaft…. Until just the head is inside again.
Your lips tease the head… tongue flicks it….. you purse your mouth to increase suction….
SMACK ! on the other cheek ‒ and again your head is forced down onto the cock ‒ almost choking you, but not quite.
Again your head is brought up ‒ to the head ‒ and you begin to get the idea.
SMACK ! in a new spot ‒ and your head is forced down again. Your mouth is filled. Tongue washes along the shaft.
Then the upward trip ‒ hand still gripping the cuffs behind your head.
Anticipation…… You wait…… then it comes
SMACK !
It feels like your head pulls my hand down with it as you engulf my erection. You seem to shove yourself deeper than I did….. so I let go.
Your head begins its own upward journey, nibbling along the shaft as you travel up it. Chewing o the head when you get there ‒ heavenly. It’s obvious that you are wanting to give me pleasure. You are testing me ‒ to see how much you can turn me on ‒ maybe make me cum.
I look down at you ‒ see you mouthing the head, my shaft glistening with your juices.
SMACK ! and your head goes down, taking me in…… then the slow journey back up.
SMACK ! and again…..
SMACK ! and again ‒ I fill you and you slaver on me as you rise.
Picking up the tempo, the crop falls a bit faster.
Smack.. Smack.. Smack..
Your head begins an up and down motion on my cock, fucking me with your mouth. Each time the crop strikes you take me in……
Smack.. Smack.. Smack..
I see the flesh on your ass becoming red again. I watch your face ‒ lost in the sensation ‒ in the emotion ‒ lost in the decadence of this behavior, being whipped and sucking. Giving yourself over to the overpowering notion that you are here to be used, to be enjoyed, to be taken, to give pleasure. Somehow the striking of the crop ‒ at first shocking and painful ‒ has become welcome and warm ‒ somehow an obscene motivation to thrust my hardness into your mouth. There was no making sense of it ‒ just a depraved erotic sense that the crop meant to suck ……..
Smack… Smack.. Smack..
Watching your head bobbing up and down in time with the crop, seeing your ass anticipating each blow…. I feel my orgasm approach. Feel the build…… Slowly I pull your head away from me. I want to cum so bad ‒ but want to wait. There’s so much fun to be had. Damn you’re good. My hardness throbs with excitement ‒ feels ready to burst. End Part 3
Looking into your eyes as you stand ‒ I see a fire. An urgency. Standing before me, with me sitting on the bed ‒ my head was at waist level for you ‒ I watched you rise. Unsteady with hands still bound behind your head, your breasts bobble as you find your footing. The chain between the clips on your nipples sways back and forth. I had forgotten about the nipple clamps ‒ realize that your poor nipples must be sore from the constant pull of the chain as you bobbed your head up and down on me. It probably just added to the overall eroticism of the act ‒ was just another sensation that kept you going……
Reaching up ‒ I place a hand on each clamp, set to release them. You look down at my fingers apprehensively. Simultaneously I release them both, free your tender nipples.
“Ohhhhhhh Myyyyyy Goooodddd……” Your exclamation is one of pain… the intense feeling of blood rushing back into your nipples ‒ the nerve endings suddenly alive after being deprived of nourishment. But more than pain ‒ it’s like intense stimulation ‒ like they are being stabbed and tickled at the same time ‒ from within.
I watch them as they grow even harder ‒ fuller ‒ as they fill. Watch as you try to jerk your hands down to protect and rub them ‒ only to be held in place by the cuffs. You twist ‒ trying to find some sort of relief ‒ or stimulation ‒ you’re not sure what ‒ you just know that they hurt… or hunger… or tickle….. They need to be rubbed is the thought that flies through your mind.
Reaching up I place a hand on each breast gently, lean forward and plant a single tender kiss on your belly. I think to myself how much I do enjoy the feeling of your breasts in my hands. Soft… full… smooth…. I feel you moving back and forth, rubbing the sensitive nipples against the palms of my hands. Feel the hard nubs across my skin. I am tempted to pinch them ‒ but hold off for now. Let them stay sensitive for a while with no external stimulus.
Leaning back from you, I reach over and grab the ankle restraints. It only takes a moment to fasten them onto your ankles, the clasps hanging from them. Next I reach up to your elbows and lift them ‒ making it obvious that I want you to free your hands from behind your head. You do so, pulling free from behind your neck, blonde locks slipping through the cuffs. As you lower your arms you adjust for your breasts…. Causing them to be squeezed between your arms which are now bound together at the wrists in front of you. It’s a lovely sight, hands bound, breasts poking forward between your arms. A sweet vulnerability ‒ almost modest.
Pulling you down onto the bed next to me, I grab the straps, bringing them close. Gently I lay you down on the bed on your back. Laying next to you, I move so that my erection (still protruding from my pants, and still very hard) lies against your thigh.
We breathe together for a few moments. I watch the swell of your breasts between your arms, your nipples are less turgid, still very red….. Your breathing has returned to a normal rate. I am sure that arousal is still alive within you…. This rest is to give you time to relax, so we can begin the journey again. I am careful not to touch you, except for the feel of my erection against your hip.
I look into your eyes, smile a bit, and say: “How are you doing?”
You blush, turn away just a bit. “I’m doing good ‒ very good.”
“I get the idea that it isn’t easy for you to talk about sex. Am I right?”
“Yes, I guess it’s my upbringing. We used to get punished for even having thoughts like this, never mind actually doing it.”
“Ok then ‒ here’s what the deal will be. With me you will be punished too. You will be punished every time you don’t do what I say. You will be punished every time you don’t do something the way I want you to do it. You will be punished every time you don’t answer a question I ask.”
“Do you understand?”
Looking at me meekly, you answer “Yes.”
“The punishment will be painful. It won’t be like the stimulating taps I have provided so far. The punishment may be something even worse than painful ‒ it may be humiliating and embarrassing. Do you understand?”
You nod your head “Yes”
“Good.” I look down at you, lying naked on the bed, hands bound in front of you.
“Spread your legs.” You do….. “Wider.” You obey.
“Reach down and spread the lips of your pussy for me.” I watch you as you struggle, then see you comply with my wishes. The pink inner flesh is exposed. I consider taking some time to lick you ‒ then continue with my plan.
“Play with yourself.”
You start ‒ look at me. See that I am testing you ‒ a test you don’t want to fail this soon….. but to play with yourself in front of me ‒ somehow that seems naughtier than what has gone on so far….. after all…. You didn’t have much of a choice being tied up and all. But then ‒ you don’t have much of a choice now……..
I watch as you begin to stroke your labia. Run your fingers through the contours of the flesh you know so well. See you watching me…. A slight blush …… your hands continue their motions.
“Keep doing that. Don’t cum until I tell you.”
I prop myself on an elbow next to you, look down into your face. I idly reach out and caress a breast, toying with the nipple, draw circles on the skin. I move my erection tighter against your hip.
“I’ll ask again, how are you doing?” Your hands continue their motion at your crotch.
“I am hot. I am excited.” The words are just above a whisper. I lean closer to your ear.
“What did you like best?” I watch for your response. I see you playing the events over in your mind……
“I, um….. uh……” Looking at me ‒ you stammer out a response. “I liked when you stuck it in me when I was bent over the dresses.”
“When I stuck ‘what’ in you?”
“Your….. erection….. Your cock.” The words rush out ‒ and it seems that a hurdle has been broken. Words seem to come a little easier. “I liked when you just bent me over and stuck it in me from behind ‒ there was nothing I could do but bend over and take it. And when you pulled it out I wanted to scream for you to put it back in.” I notice that your hands are increasing in movement at your crotch.
“What else?”
You quietly say “Watching myself in the mirror while I was sucking on you. It was hard to believe it was me. I did look nasty ‒ I looked like what you called me…… a…...”
“A slut? Is that what you looked like?” Your hands move faster. You nod your head…. Close your eyes ‒ I think that you are re-living the moment, seeing yourself in the mirror again.
Bending closer I whisper into your ear: “I liked when I was using the riding crop on you. I liked that you would suck me deep every time I hit you. I liked watching your ass turn red. I liked seeing you almost cum from a beating with a riding crop and my dick in your mouth.”
Your hand is working feverishly at your crotch…. I can hear squishing sounds.
“I guess that’s what someone is who gets turned on by sucking a dick and getting whipped at the same time…… a slut. A dirty naughty little girl who likes to be forced to do nasty things and be punished for them.”
Moans escape from you ‒ eyes closed, hands at work in your sex. I sense that you are near an orgasm, but will not disobey me. Good ‒ this is where I want to start again…..
End Part 4
Reaching down I pull your hands away from your sex. I feel the wetness on your fingers ‒ am tempted to dig my fingers into you ‒ resist the temptation. I consider a hogtie ‒ using the wax in the burning candle or have you finish me with your mouth or maybe use a vibrator until you beg me to stop. No….. Time to push your limits.
Unsnapping the clasps on the wrist cuffs, I lift the knee nearest to me; pull your ankle toward you, tight up against your ass. It only takes a moment to connect the wrist cuff to the ankle restraint. You get the idea and bend the other knee to bring the ankle as close as you can ‒ I pull it the rest of the way and connect it. Your right wrist is now bound to your right ankle, and left to left. Lying on your back…. You realize that you really can’t get up without turning over. Not sure you could, even then.
It doesn’t take a lot of effort to move you around on the slick bedspread. Your back slides along…. I place your head near the edge of the bed. I notice as I move you ‒ when your knees separate ‒ your pubic hair is wet and matted. Your fingers have done a good job.
With your head at the edge of the bed ‒ I turn you over ‒ onto your stomach. The result is that now your knees must straighten out…… and as your ankles move away from your ass they pull your arms back behind you with them, away from your back. The motion forces you to arch your back, lifting your shoulders and head up away from the surface of the bed. As you adjust to the new position, head lifted up and back by your shoulders ‒ you are staring directly at my erection poking through my pants.
I move forward ‒ you do not need to be told what to do ‒ hungrily take it into your mouth. I smile as you begin to use your lips and teeth in the ways I taught you.
“I am going to take off my clothes. You will keep my cock in your mouth the entire time. Every time it comes out ‒ you will receive punishment. Do you understand?”
You nod your head and suck it in deeper ‒ holding onto it the best you can.
From this angle ‒ looking down at you ‒ I can see your wrists bound to your ankles. Your legs are separated a bit ‒ it looks like you are trying to keep some amount of leverage. Looking straight down I see my tube disappearing into your mouth. Your head is bobbing just a bit ‒ your grip on me is tight ‒ making sure not to lose me. Heavenly.
My shirt comes off with no trouble. I take my time, enjoying the sensation. Throw it to the floor.
Next is my belt. I make a big production of it….. drape it across your face… use it to lightly tap your back. I feel you clench.
The shoes are an issue. I use one foot to pull the other off. The motion causes my cock to spring free ‒ out of reach for you……. I watch you squirm forward on your belly, grab it with your mouth again.
“That’s ONE!” I say. You clench down tighter.
OK, I admit it wasn’t fair, but I used the other sock as an excuse to make you lose me again ‒ just because I loved the frantic way you sought it out with your mouth. Such a nasty little girl ‒ working so hard just to get my hardness back in you.
“That’s TWO !” My voice echoes in the quiet room.
Pants unbuttoned, I let them fall to the floor. I pull out of your mouth ‒ you try to keep me in place, not knowing my intent was to free myself. I let you struggle a moment, then pull back.
Dropping down to my knees I draw lose to your face. “You will only be punished for 2 things; is that far?”
You nod your head.
Once again it is easy to move you on the bedspread, turning you around so your head is away from the edge of the bed.
Turning you on your side, I once again pull your ankles up toward your butt, but this time bring your knees up toward your chest. The result is a semi-fetal position, knees pulled up to your breasts, arms in front of you still bound to your ankles.
Continuing the turning motion ‒ I pull you onto your belly, your knees propping you up. Your arms are pulled tight, toward your ankles, face buried into the mattress. Your ass is sticking up in the air, your head and shoulders are buried into the mattress…. You are unable to move at all.
I smile as I sit next to you ‒ you feel the motion on the mattress, but can’t see me. I think it’s a pity that I can’t get to your tits like this ‒ but oh well, I will have them again later. Your ass is very available ‒ waiting for me. Reaching between your thighs _ motion for you to move them apart. You do. I get up off the bed and stand behind you.
I see you, head facing away from me. Your legs spread ‒ ass sticking up in the air. I can see the puckered bud of your anus and the wet lips of your labia. I trace my fingers down the crevice of your ass ‒ hear you squeal. Walking over to the bag, I grab the butt plug, and return.
Standing behind you, I approach and press the tip of my cock against your sex. Gently I rub up and down the length of your slit…. Using your juices to lubricate us. I watch as you try to move back ‒ to impale yourself on me. I continue to tease you with the rubbing motion.
As I tease you with my erection, I lick a finger, and then reach down with it to your anus. I feel you jerk when I make contact, but then settle back into the rubbing motion between me and your pussy.
Circling your anus with the tip of my finger ‒ I gently tease the sensitive nerve endings there ‒ moving my finger in concert with my dick. I feel your juices flowing, covering the head of my erection.
Probing the tight opening with my finger ‒ I apply pressure.”
“Oh God, Noooo….” I hear you say. “Not there.”
I keep up the pressure, feel it start to slip inside. Twist it back and forth a bit. Keep up the motion between my cock and your labia and clit.
“Pushing a little more with my finger ‒ the first knuckle enters you.”
“Oh My! Please ‒ no, not there.”
I am listening for the safe word. You know that is the only thing that will stop me. I can sense that you want to protest ‒ heed some long ago taboo ‒ yet be forced to go against those old beliefs.
“Oh please…… That’s so nasty.”
The finger probes deeper. Another knuckle. I twist the finger ‒ bringing maximum contact with the sensitive nerve endings in your ass.
Slowly I begin a gentle in and out motion. It seems that you are actually moving your ass back against my finger ‒ bringing your clit in direct contact with the head of my hardness. All the while moaning ‒ and quietly protesting.
Moving my erection up just a bit ‒ it slides into your vagina, filling you. I stop with it completely imbedded ‒ feel your inner muscles clutching at me inside you. The slowly, I draw it all the way out. I know that the momentary sense of fullness will make you feel empty now.
Removing my finger from your ass, I pick up the butt plug. I lick it for lubrication, and place it at your nether hole. Slowly I begin to push, twisting it so it slides in easier.
The impalement startles you. Immediately you clench your ass tight, so I wait for you to relax again, slowly teasing it…… When I feel you relaxed ‒ I slide it in another half inch. Because it is thicker than my finger ‒ you fight it, then relax, then fight it again.
I am patient…… You are excited. Amid your protests I hear passion….. I hear submission….. I hear wanton exuberance.
Finally it pops into place. Having a contour to keep it imbedded and a base to keep it from slipping all the way in ‒ it is securely within you. I watch you wag your ass back and forth, testing it. I know you feel full back there ‒ a foreign fullness that is uncomfortable at the moment ‒ but will be natural ‒ even enjoyed, in just a few minutes. Giving you time to get used to it; I reach down between your thighs and begin to play with your wet pussy. I smile to myself, thinking about what will come next.
End of Part 5
Your juices flow over my hand. Hunched over like you are, your ass sticking into the air, your knees widely spread, I have full access to your wet pussy. I hear my fingers squishing around ‒ slip a finger into you ‒ twist it around ‒ pull it out, and replace it with two. I know there is some discomfort in the position, your weight forcing your head and shoulders into the mattress….. unable to move at all…… and I know that your attention is drawn to my hand working its magic with your sensitive flesh.
My fingers find the nub of your engorged clitoris. I stroke it back and forth….. grasp it and apply pressure. A groan escapes from you. A bit tighter pinch…. Then stroking…. And I let your clit free.
Turning, I walk to the bag, pull out a tube of lubricant ‒ and rummage through the bag ‒ finding a vibrator. Glancing over my shoulder I watch you, ass in the air, red plastic plug protruding from your anus. Because your head is turned the other direction you can’t see me ‒ so I make some rustling noises ‒ just to draw your attention ‒ make you wonder what is going on. Returning to you, I set the new items next to you…. And pick up the riding crop.
Standing directly behind you ‒ I move forward…… easing the head of my hard cock against the lips of your sex. The initial contact startles you ‒ but immediately you push back… trying to force me into you. I tease a bit, just letting the head pop into you….. pulling back so you can’t have any more ‒ even as you try to push back. The slowly I allow you to ease back onto me. I watch as you struggle to push yourself backward ‒ slowly enveloping me.
You feel tighter to me than before ‒ the butt plug in your ass pushes against me from within you. You feel the fullness ‒ fuller than you have ever felt before ‒ my hardness rubbing against the plug through the thin membrane of your inner tissues. The plug feels pleasant now, you have stretched and become accustomed to it.
I stand still ‒ give you some time to feel the sensations. But you can’t be still ‒ the sensations demand that you respond ‒ your body acts on its own….. Beginning a rocking motion that causes an in-and-out pumping motion of me in you. I stand and watch as my hardness slips in and out of you- as you rock back and forth on me. In and out…. In and out…. Your tempo begins to increase.
Reaching down I grab your hips with my hands and pull you back to me ‒ push you out ‒ pull you back ‒ controlling the fucking motion. I increase the motion, pulling you back harder against me ‒ pulling you out to the very tip of my head ‒ then pulling you back in one long motion. I feel me rubbing against the plug inside you. Feel your inner muscles clutching at me.
A sound escapes from you “Oh Fuck!” I smile, it’s the first I have heard you swear. “Oh Fuck ‒ Please don’t stop !” “Oh… Oh… Oh…”
Your voice ‒ hearing your excitement ‒ excites me. Having this control ‒ using you as I wish ‒ feeling your body respond to me….. I feel my own orgasm approaching.
“Oh… Oh… Oh….” Your voice is becoming louder ‒ more urgent.
I step up the fucking motion ‒ in and out ‒ begin to slam my body into you. Every time I drive myself home into you I come in contact with the base of the butt plug ‒ causing it to jerk inside you ‒ creating new sensations on top of all that you are feeling.
Slam…. I hear the sound of my flesh slapping against your buttocks.
Slam….. You moan…
Slam…… “Oh Fuck….” Slam……..
This time I pull out…….
“You asshole ‒ put it back in me ! I need it !”
I smile ‒ reach out and begin to play with your sloppy-wet sex with my hand. Your hips gyrate seeking stimulation.
“Such words from my little slut” I say. “You’re not in any position to tell me what to do.” I increase the tempo of my hands; glance down at the wetness on my cock.
“You let me slip out if your mouth twice. You still need to be punished.”
I swear I feel you get wetter ‒ probably my imagination ‒ but my words do seem to have an effect.
“For punishment here’s what I am going to do….” I pause…. Feel you working your hot wetness against my hand.
“I am going to use the riding crop on you ‒ once for each infraction. Hard.” My hand continues.
“Then I am going to fuck you in the ass.”
“Oh No ! Not there. I… I…. I…. can’t”
“You don’t have any choice. In the ass.”
“No… no…. please.” I listen for the safe word ‒ it doesn’t come.
Standing beside you, I place the riding crop against your right ass cheek. I use the other hand to reach down and jiggle the butt plug. You moan. I swing the crop quickly over your head, creating a swishing sound
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I was asked to share a fantasy - This is Part 2 - please read the preceeding Part 1 post first
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Posted:Dec 3, 2008 6:05 pm
Last Updated:Mar 15, 2009 10:36 am
1674 Views
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Looking down at her, spread before me ‒ a leg across each arm of the chair pulled tight by the ropes around her ankles….. a vibrator buried halfway inside her….. arms disappearing behind her bound by the cuffs ‒ eyes looking up, focused on my erection clutched tightly in my fist; I am struck by the eroticism of the moment. It’s a funny sense of humility, that she has trusted me enough to offer herself to me mixed with the excitement of the moment in the knowledge that I am free to do with her (within the limits) whatever I want.
I know what I want ‒ I want to see how excited I can get her ‒ I want to see and hear and feel and immerse myself in her arousal. I want that masculine feeling of power that comes from bringing her feminine sexual excitement to a peak; and taking her over the edge.
Stroking myself, looking down at her watching me, I think about all of the other fun games we will be able to play together ‒ ways I can tie her, limits she has already spoken of expanding, ways to dominate her, things to do to tease her when we are not together…. I feel my hardness swell even more……
Her eyes look up ‒ catch me gazing at her ‒ my eyes happened to be focused on her breasts at that moment. She smiles, just a hint, knowing that I approve of what I see. Her eyes bring me back to the moment ‒ back from my thoughts of other times. I smile back.
Letting go of my erection ‒ it bounces up against my belly ‒ she follows its movement. I drop to my knees between her spread legs. Looking down at her crotch ‒ I reach up and gently grasp the vibrator. Gently, slowly I move it in and out… I feel her muscles let go of it ‒ see her thighs relax just a bit.
“You did well; you didn’t lose it. You deserve a reward.” The words are just a whisper, above the slight buzzing sound. I continue to work it in and out ‒ see her hips begin to undulate in time with my motions. There is slickness, a wetness, covering the plastic toy.
Pulling the toy out, I turn it off and set it nearby on the floor. I move forward ‒ tiht against her. My erection rests between the lips of her sex ‒ I can feel the wetness or her, the heat. It takes restraint to no make the slight adjustment to let it slip inside her.
Looking deep into her eyes I reach up to her face ‒ cup the shape of her jaw in my hands. Caress her soft cheeks. Run my fingertips along her eyebrows and down over her eyelids as she closes them. Gently and sweetly I caress her face and neck ‒ then run my hands through her hair, massaging her scalp.
I watch as she loses herself in these tender ministrations of her head. See her swoon as I grasp her scalp, gently digging my fingers into her. Watch as her mouth opens as I grab handfuls of hair and hold her head securely ‒ controlling her as she sits exposed to me.
Holding her head securely in my hands, I pull her toward me. The result is to bring her pussy in tighter contact with my cock ‒ bringing attention there. I pull tighter still ‒ feel her wet lips surrounding my shaft. It is a delicious feeling.
I feel motion on my shaft ‒ delectable sensations ‒ and realize that once again she is heaving her hips against me ‒ moving her wetness up and down the length of me ‒ I hear her moan. I pull her even harder against me using her head ‒ and the actions increase. She moans again and I realize that she is likely to cum. The motions increase even more. I pull just a bit harder ‒ the slick rubbing motion increases even more and her groans become a bit louder. Her eyes burn with passion ‒ locked with mine. Neither of us blink ‒ stare deep into each other’s soul as she continues to move herself up and down along the length of my shaft. Forcing my eyes away from hers, I look down. The tendons in her upper thighs are tight ‒ she is using every bit of her strength in her confined position to rub herself against me. I see my hard cock, wet and glistening with her juices, then it disappears as she slides up its length ‒ until just the angry red head is visible. Her clit, engorged and exposed, is pressed tightly against the side of the head. Then my cock shaft appears again as her crotch make its downward trip, exposing the wet shaft again. I swear I can feel her clit as it slides against my pipe. Then up again….. then down again….. The motion increases as she speeds up and presses harder against me. Low guttural sounds come from her……..
Moving my hands down from her head, they trace a path down across her shoulders….. down her upper chest…… to her breasts.
The motion becomes more feverish….. the wetness between us grows.
Grasping a nipple in each hand ‒ I pinch. Hard, then ease up, and begin a twisting motion. Her head is thrown back as she wallows in the sensations, mouth slightly open. I continue the twisting and feel her begin to jerk against me ‒ beginning the throes of orgasm.
Smiling to myself ‒ I let go of her breasts ‒ and do the unthinkable ‒ I pull away from her.
Her head snaps up ‒ looks directly at me.
“Bastard!” she hisses. Her hips continue to churn ‒ seeking out the stimulation that brought her to the brink……. I watch ‒ very aroused as her most sensitive parts seek any sort of contact. Her motions continue, but slow as she calms. The hair on her labia is matted with wetness.
I idly reach down and begin to play with her sex. Run my fingers along its lines…. Across her clit…… slightly within her….. then out again. Up and down her thighs…… back to her crotch….. gently pinch her lips….. encircle her clit and twist gently.
Once again her eyes are locked onto mine. There is a new sensation ‒ a new look in her eyes ‒ as I continue to play with her. At my pleasure. There is nothing she can do to stop or control my hands…. I am free to play as I wish….. One finger in her….. then out…. Two fingers and she arches her hips…… then the empty feeling as I pull back out. Still we stare at each other, me smiling slightly. I’m sure she’d love to slap that silly smirk from my face ‒ but all she can do is sit there and let my fingers have their way with her.
Three fingers slowly work their way into her ‒ her back arches to meet them. I leave them in place and slowly twist my hand ‒ bringing new sensations. Then back out again, my fingers covered in her juices.
Our eyes are still locked as I raise my hand to my face…. She watches me as I hold my wet fingers up to my nose and take in her scent. Her eyes grow wider as I stick each finder into my mouth one at a time ‒ and slowly suck her juices from them….. Then lick my fingers, and between them ‒ to savor the taste.
“You are delicious” I say. “I am going to enjoy this.”
End Part 7
My head lowers, toward her crotch. Lower and lower ‒ until my mouth is less than an inch from her pussy. I can feel her heat. I can smell her arousal.
I blow. Gently. The lightest of streams of air passes across her sensitive flesh. Her hips arch up to me ‒ trying to make contact.
Bringing one hand up, I place a finger directly on her exposed engorged clit. She moves her hips to provide some stimulation, moving her sex around my still finger. I blow again gently.
Slowly the finger begins a downward path….. down along her labia lip….. back up again along the other side…. Then back down again.
Gentle blowing continues.
I bring my finger to her vagina and enter, swishing it around in her wetness. I hear a moan escape her. Then the finger continues its journey down to the small place between her pussy and her anus.
Gentle blowing.
Leaning forward I let my lips make slight contact with her pussy….. my tongue darts out ‒ touches her clit ‒ and pulls away. She lifts herself to meet my mouth ‒ I withdraw to keep the same light teasing contact.
The tongue darts out again.
My wet finger eases its way down even further to the pucker of her anus. I remember our agreement ‒ anal stimulation is OK, no anal penetration.
Wet with her juices my finger begins a teasing of her anus. The slickness allows it to glide across the puckered flesh ‒ a tickle here ‒ a flick there ‒ a circling motion.
I feel her jerk. I feel her grip her ass muscles… trying to close off a feared invasion. I feel them relax ‒ seem to draw apart a bit ‒ as if begging entry. Then closed again. Clenching, while helplessly spread.
My mouth lowers onto her sex. The full contact of my lips on her spread pussy takes her by surprise ‒ her reaction is immediate ‒ her hips thrust up ‒ pushing herself against me. She begins to move against my mouth, and I let her.
I notice that when I stick my tongue through my lips into her ‒ my tongue actually enters into her. I feel the slickness of the insides of her labia. Feel her inner lips with my tongue. I like this ‒ she is open wide for my tongue and mouth, cannot close herself from me. I think about next time ‒ when I make her hold herself open for me as I lick her. I begin to explore her inner parts at will.
Her hips continue to work her pussy against my lips ‒ the sensitive lips of her labia rubbing against my mouth and moustache. The intensity of her movement increases.
My finger increases its activity at her anus. Twirling around…. Flicking, probing, rubbing. I feel her move against it ‒ the clenching has stopped ‒ she seems to almost be trying to impale herself on my digit ‒ or at least focus stimulation on the tender nerve endings at the pucker.
My tongue finds her clit. Encircles it ‒ teases it ‒ bats it back and forth ‒ explores its folds……
And comes to rest ‒ to work on the sensitive nub of its head.
Combining the motions of my finger at her anus, the motions of my tongue in her, and the action of my lips and teeth…. I build a consistent motion… rhythmic…… constant…..
Tickling with the finger….. teasing with the tongue….. nibbling with the lips…..
In and out….. back and forth…….. in and out…….. back and forth……..
Moans come from somewhere over head. A new wetness fills my mouth. Her motions match mine ‒ becoming urgent. More urgent.
I feel her orgasm approach. Hear the intake of breath. Feel the muscles tighten. Feel her lips engorge even more.
Fearing being teased again ‒ fearing being frustrated again ‒ all of the pent up sexual energy comes through her like a cyclone ‒ a tempest of sensation and emotion and pure wanton need.
I hear her ‒ not quite a howl ‒ more of a moan emanating from the depths of her soul. A deep resonant sound of anguish mixed with animal satisfaction.
I keep the constant motion on her pussy with my lips ‒ continue thrashing her clit with my tongue. I don’t just allow the orgasm ‒ I make my motions attuned to hers .. help to keep driving her over the edge. Continue the attention as she moves through her orgasm. Feel her juices enter my mouth.
I notice that in the excitement of her orgasm ‒ in increasing my pressure on her parts to egg it on ‒ my finger has slightly entered her anus. Just the tip ‒ just barely. I pull it out and continue the play at the pucker ‒ feel her press down against it.
My mouth continues its work as her climax continues. Her howl has turned to moans. I wish I could see her face……..
Gradually I slow my actions, letting her orgasm subside. I consider keeping at her ‒ seeing how fast I can bring her off again…. Or maybe forcing her to cum again and again ‒ relentlessly working at her… but think better of it. Let it subside, I think, and start again. Oh the glory of being a woman ‒ to be able to have orgasm after orgasm. Oh the fun of being a male ‒ having the pleasure of sharing in her bliss; being the source of that bliss.
Her movement slows as she regains her senses. I lift my head from her crotch and look up at her. Her eyes are closed ‒ her breasts rise and fall with her ragged breathing. My face is covered with her juices….. her pubic hair is wet and matted.
Reaching over, I untie one ankle, then another. She lifts her head and looks at me. Pulling her knees down from over the arms of the chair, I place one on either side of me and move toward her on my knees. She smiles, crosses her legs behind me ‒ and uses them to pull me closer. I smile back, allow myself to be drawn to her. I see her struggle to sit up, unable to get leverage without the use of her hands. I reach down and pull her upper torso to me.
The first thing I notice as we make contact, me kneeling in front of her, she sitting in a chair ‒ is the feel of her breasts as we touch. It’s the first time I have felt her bare flesh against mine. Pleasant. Warm. Slick with sweat.
Holding her close she places her head on my shoulder, resting it there. Our breathing slows as we spend this moment being close. I feel her struggle ‒ wanting to put her arms around me but the cuffs still hold her tight. I draw her close ‒ our bodies melt together.
“That was amazing” she says. “I don’t remember the last time I had an orgasm like that.”
I smile, feeling somehow fulfilled.
It takes only a moment to stand, get my handcuff key, and free her from the cuffs. I don’t want her arms tired or sore and she will need a few minutes to get full function of those limbs back.
During the time that she goes into the bathroom to “freshen up” ‒ I make preparations in the room for our next adventure. It only takes a minute, and I am lying on the bed when she returned.
Laying down next to me, I feel her snuggle up close, pressing the entire length of her body next to me. We exchange smiles and a quick kiss. She looks down, sees my erection, and gingerly, almost lovingly, grasps it.
“So, did you like it?” I ask.
“Most definitely. It’s not what I expected from you or what I imagined. I especially liked the way you used me when I was on my knees in front of you. How you showed me what you liked and made me do it to you.”
“I liked it too when you started talking dirty to me. Making me think about what I looked like. It got my mind racing about lots of different things.”
She looked at me and said “What about you? You didn’t cum.”
“Not yet.” I say. “We’re not through. This was just to warm you up, for me to find out what turns you on. I want my first orgasm today to be ‒ well, you’ll see. I have plans for it.”
I see her look at me, a mischievous sparkle in her eye.
“Let’s just say I’m going to make you make me cum.”
A quizzical look comes over her as she asks “What is next?”
“I’m going to demonstrate the versatility of ropes. I think first I’ll teach you all the things that I can do to you in a hogtie. Things you will simply have to endure and enjoy”
“A hogtie?”
“Yes. Bring my bag over here and we will get started.”
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I was asked to share a fantasy - This is Part 1
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Posted:Dec 1, 2008 9:02 pm
Last Updated:Mar 15, 2009 10:54 am
2000 Views
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And so this is the first half of what I wrote. Still working on the rest. If you've read my profile you've read the short version. But too much effort not to share.
My fantasy
Our first meeting
We meet in a hotel room. Our prior communication was through email, have never spoken to each other live. Instructions were clear ‒ she is to wear a front-button dress with no bra. Panties are permitted. She is only to speak when directly asked a question.
Upon arrival I her to the center of the room. Moving behind her I cuff her hands behind her back. I return to stand in front of her.
We first determine a “safe word” ‒ a sign that she is uncomfortable and play will stop immediately. Then standing before her I ask her what her limits are: whether it’s Ok to blindfold, tie, kiss her, undress her, perform oral sex, have her perform oral on me, safe sex, anal stimulation, anal penetration, pain ‒ a wide variety of questions that leave little question regarding what she will be comfortable with and where she may have an interest but is unsure. This process seems almost clinical ‒ there is no physical contact ‒ but the content of the conversation causes her mind to start imagining. The cuffs are a constant reminder that she is making her self vulnerable, willingly.
The first kiss ‒ seems such a treat. To tease and taste. To hold her gently and allow my lips and tongue to explore the shape of her lips. To feel as she hesitantly begins to return the kisses ‒ to hear the intake of her breath as her sense of urgency increases.
Holding her body against me, feeling our bodies mold to each other. Her arms pinned behind her keep her from being able to reach out to me, so I draw her to me, enveloping her in my arms. Giving a feeling of comfort, almost safety. A strange sense of vulnerability and comfort at the same time.
Pulling back I pull out the blindfold. Hold it in front of her. Slowly ‒ unfold it and place it over her eyes, making sure she is comfortable.
I walk around her, clearly describing what I see. I let her get used to having to concentrate on my voice by telling her how she looks in her clothes. How the cuffs cause her breasts to push forward, straining at the material of her dress. I comment on the smell of her hair. The shape of her neck. The strength of her legs. The roundness of her ass.
Once again I explore her mouth with mine ‒ in her darkness this simple contact seems so much more.
Pulling a chair forward I sit down before her, pull her to me. She stumbles just a bit, and has to spread her legs to fit them on either side of my knees. The action causes the dress to ride up on her thighs, just a bit. The buttons are straining at her thighs. Idly I run my hands up and down her thighs ‒ small circling motions that are almost ticklish. She jerks just a bit at the contact….. My hands run up to the hem of the dress, circle around to the backs of her thighs, then around front again.
Reaching back to my bag of toys I bring out a pair of scissors. I place the tip of the blade against the flesh of her thigh and feel her shrink back at the cold touch of the steel ‒ but with her thighs spread across my knees, she cannot move back. I slowly slide the metal up her thigh…. Knowing that she wonders what the metal is.
Slowly…… up under the hem….. the scissors keep moving. To guide the scissors I use my other hand up the inside of her thigh….. higher….. higher….. feeling the warmth between her legs. Careful not to touch her crotch I use the scissors to slice away at her panties, which fall between her spread legs.
Setting the scissors aside I spend considerable time caressing her upper thighs, under the dress. Watching her. Smelling her. Feeling her. All the while avoiding contact with her most sensitive parts.
End Part 1
Moving the chair back, I am able to once again stand in front of her. She starts to move her legs back together but I stop her. Leaning very close to her ear I say “Do not move unless I tell you. When you are with me you will not cross your legs or fold your arms. I want your body available to me. Do you understand?”
She nods, and returns her legs to their spread position, standing. I think to myself that I should have had her wear heels ‒ that would have made her just a bit more unsteady, more vulnerable. I tuck that information away for our next meeting.
Lightly I begin to run my hands over her clothed body, feeling the softness of the skin beneath the cotton dress. The material is thin, her warmth feels good on my hands.
Starting at neck I run my hands down her shoulders….. lightly touching her ‒ an almost tickling motion. Down the top of her chest to the top swell of her breasts….. then down the sides of the globes to her ribs. Her flesh is soft and warm. My hands continue the journey down her waist….. down the sides of her hips…. Feeling the spot where the panties bit into her skin just a few minutes before.
I watch her as I caress her. See her bite her lip just a bit ‒ watch as she concentrates her body’s feelings on that small place where my fingers make contact with her. Watch as her body seems to move ‒ just a bit ‒ to increase the sensation of my fingers.
Bringing my hands up the front of her body in a single slow motion, I let them glide up the front of her thighs…. Up her stomach….. up to the base of her breasts…. Where I stop. Ever so slowly I trace the shape of her breast up across the front of her flesh….. feel the shape of the hard nipple as I pass over it…. And bring my hands to rest at the collar of the dress.
“Are you excited?” I ask.
“Yes”
“I’m going to undress you now.”
I watch her shiver at my words. The anticipation and teasing have heightened her awareness. The blindfold has caused her to focus her attention on my touch. My words have broken the silence ‒ but added a new anticipation of what was to come.
The top button comes easily. Opens the top of her chest. I pull the material apart…. Pausing.
The next button is between her breasts. Looking down I can see her breasts straining at the material ‒ causing the material to gape between the 2nd and 3rd buttons. Her nipples are poking against the material. Her breath is ragged, the breaths opening and closing the gape. Reaching my finger through the gape ‒ I feel the soft skin beneath. Touch the sides of her cleavage. Watch her shiver again.
The button pops free, opening the dress to below her breasts, which are still covered by the material. I decide to leave that one in place and move down to the next, the 5th button at her waist. It is freed. Then the next at her crotch. It pops free. Then to the final button just above the hem, it comes free as well.
Standing back I survey my work. She looks glorious. The material of the dress is closed just below her breasts, covering them. From there it is open, hanging down across her body. She is breathing heavily ‒ and it seems that the one button holding her clothing together might burst at any moment.
With her spread thighs the material spreads there, just showing a hint of her pubic hair. I am glad she doesn’t shave ‒ I much prefer a natural woman.
I walk around behind her. Lean close into her, feel my hardness brush against her cuffed hands. She automatically reaches back to grasp me ‒ I reach down and stop her.
“I said not to move. Was I clear?”
“Yes”
“If you do not do what I say then I may need to come up with some sort of punishment, some form of correction. Do you understand?”
“Yes” “You may hold me if you like.” I say.
Her hands immediately reach back and grab my hardness through my pants. I giver her a couple of minutes to adjust in the cuffs, finding a comfortable position, then feel her hold and begin to stroke me. I know it is frustrating for her ‒ which brings amusement to me. I lean closer into her ‒ feel her get a better grip.
Leaning my head next to hers, my mouth next to her ear, I reach around her and grab the material of her dress where the single button holds it together. I pull it away from her body and look down the top of the dress ‒ seeing her breasts for the first time.
“Your breasts are lovely.” I say. “I love that your nipples are hard, waiting for my touch.”
I feel her grip on my member tighten at the words.
“You look so lovely here. Your hands bound behind you. Your dress open for me ‒ for my pleasure.”
“You are like a gift to be unwrapped, and I am enjoying the unwrapping very much. But now it is time to rid you of the wrapping so I can play with my toy.”
End Part 2
Pulling my self free from her grip (reluctantly) I let go of the material and walk around in front of her. Reaching up, I grasp the last button and pop it free. She gasps. The material spreads and hangs down the front of her breasts….. open the rest of the way down. I stand silently before her, enjoying the sight of her breasts rising and falling with each breath. See her navel, her crotch.
My hands rise to the collar of the dress and I grasp it, not moving at first. Each movement is deliberate ‒ I want her to know that all I need do is pull it open and she will be open to me. I move the cloth up and down just a bit, knowing the material will rub against her hard nipples. Then…. Slowly…. I begin to peel it back. Back down her shoulders… the material spreads wide open as the dress falls behind her and comes to rest on her bound arms.
She is naked in front of me ‒ blindfolded with her hands bound behind her. Her breasts are pushed forward and spread by the position of her arms. Her legs are spread ‒ making her just a bit unsteady and very open. I watch quietly for a moment ‒ knowing that in her darkness she is wondering what she looks like. Knowing she is wondering whether I approve of what I see. Wondering what is next in this prolonged game of arousal.
I can’t resist. While I want to prolong this as long as I can, this woman has excited me immensely, and I must satisfy my own curiosity.
My hands rise to her breasts. I hold them ‒ cupping one in each hand. I feel the nipples digging into my palms; feel the soft fullness with my fingers. I bring my thumbs and fingers to the nipples and pinch, gently at first ‒ then a bit harder as I test the turgid knobs of sensitive flesh. When I twist them gently she moans. Ahhh.. I think to myself, her nipples are sensitive. I look forward to teasing them.
She arches her back, bringing her breasts harder into my grasp, trying to increase the sensation. Her shoulders move back, even more than the cuffs require ‒ as she offers herself to me. I smile.
I drop her breasts; watch her shudder as the flesh comes in contact with the cool air. I stand back and look at her. I smile as I begin to talk to her, knowing she will hear the smile in my voice.
“You are absolutely beautiful” I say. “You are a glorious woman; ripe and mature. Your skin is smooth and silky ‒ it cries out to be touched. Your breasts are alive and wait to be suckled. Your passion oozes from each pore. I look forward to knowing every inch of your delicate body.”
Pulling the chair forward again ‒ I sit in front of her. My head is at waist level, looking up at the undersides of her breasts. Between them I see her face from below, clad in the blindfold.
My hands come to rest on her thighs…. Pushing them outward ‒ she responds by spreading her legs even wider. There is a slight muskiness in the air ‒ very pleasant.
My left hand wanders behind her, comes to rest on the back of her right buttock. I grip it securely, but not to tight. I use it to keep her hips in place.
My right hand slides across the front of her thigh ‒ between her legs, and comes to rest on the inside of her upper thigh, just below her crotch. My thumb feels her heat, feels the tendrils of her pubic hair.
I move the thumb slightly ‒ just touching her labia. Very slow soft movements ‒ I want her to have to concentrate on the touch. I want her attention drawn there.
Slowly the thumb moves back and forth through the hair, against the sensitive lips. Gently, when I find the split between the lips, I let the thumb slide through the slit, just a little. I feel wetness on my thumb. I continue the soft motion, slipping and sliding just barely between the lips…. Feel the wetness increase. The increased lubrication makes the sliding easier, more sensual. I feel her begin to move her hips against my hand, undulating in a rhythm all her own. I stop her motion with my hand behind her buttock, and continue to tease her at my own pace.
Holding her with one hand, teasing her sex with the other, I look up at her face. From this angle, her face framed by breasts capped with hard nipples, I see her mouth partly open; the face of a woman becoming lost in sensation.
I remove my hand from behind her buttock and press my hand harder against her labia. Her motions increase…. She begins to undulate her hips back and forth, sliding her sex along my hand. I feel her juices flow freely as she glides against me.
“You are very wet.” I say. “Tell me, are you excited?”
“Oh yes” she says.
“Do you want to cum?”
“Oh God Yes !’ is her answer.
“Do you want to cum on my hand, right now?”
“Yes, Please!”
The motions increase. I adjust my hands to change the sensations for her ‒ watch her undulate against my fingers.
“I want you to cum too. But not yet. First you have to bring me pleasure. Do you want to do that?”
“Oh yes…. Anything…. Just let me cum soon.”
I work my fingers and hands through her sex for a period longer. Take her to the edge of orgasm ‒ and just as she nears ‒ back off and watch her try to push against me for release. Again using slightly different movements……. And yet again.
Not wanting her to tire of this game, I stand… and pull her to me. We kiss.
The kiss is a deep joining of selves. There is an urgency ‒ but more there is a connective-ness. There is a communication of sharing… Of desire…. Of promise….
At first only the lips join us ‒ and all awareness is on that single point of contact between us. Then tongues explore and tease.
Reaching around her I pull our bodies together, melting into each other. Her nakedness against me makes her seem very vulnerable. I know the raspy cloth of my clothes against her naked body will exaggerate her feeling of nudity ‒ which will be fed by her sense of helplessness brought on by the cuffs.
End Part 3 Placing my hands on her shoulders I push her back a step. Pushing down ‒ she realizes that I want her to kneel. A knowingness comes over her face, a slight smile. Her breasts bobble as she settles onto her knees.
I pull her closer to me, take her head gently in my hands ‒ and rub her face gently against my erection through my pants. She nuzzles against it like a cat, enjoying the sensation and feel of me. Slides her cheek up and down its length. Nibbles at it through the material. I watch her ‒ understanding how single points of sensation, like my cock through my pants against her bare cheek ‒ stimulate the mind and emotions and increase the sensory reflection.
I reach down and amid the motions of her face against my pants ‒ grasp the tab on my zipper. She feels my hand, makes room for it, and continues the nuzzling.
As I pull down the zipper it seems as though her face follows my hand. I wonder if she can hear the soft sound of the zipper on its path.
I reach bottom and remove my hand. The nuzzling continues. She uses her face to spread the zipper opening just a bit. I watch her tongue flick out and see it come in contact with first the zipper….. then move to the pinkish flesh barely exposed there. I can tell from her motion that she realizes for the first time that I don’t wear underwear ‒ and that she made contact with the skin of my maleness.
I watch her as she uses her tongue, in her darkness, to taste my flesh through the opening, running up and down the length of the opening. She seems more animated now ‒ almost like she is on a mission ‒ as she begins the work of freeing me from my pants.
I am amazed at her ingenuity and her perseverance. She uses her cheek, her nose, her chin….. moving my erection back and forth in my pants, working the head toward the opening. I adjust myself just a little to make it a bit easier ‒ but that hardly seems necessary as she work her way on me. Back and forth.. push and shove…. Until suddenly the head pops through the opening.
I see her smile. She is pleased with her efforts… and uses her cheeks to clear my cock from the confines of my pants as best she can. Then ‒ to my amazement ‒ she engulfs me halfway into her mouth and pulls straight back, pulling the rest of me from my pants.
The sensation is incredible. The visual image is remarkable ‒ watching her pull me free. Feeling me tight in the warmth of her mouth.
Looking down I watched her ‒ a feeling of adoration and pride. Somehow these overshadowed the lust. Like a with a new toy ‒ she worked and sucked and teased me with her mouth. It was as though after all the work she went through to get my erection ‒ she wasn’t going to let go of it.
I wondered whether she was an accomplished fellatrix or if she was just truly enjoying herself and excited. Maybe both. It didn’t matter.
Taking her head in my hands I pulled her free from my hardness. I tilted her head up and bent over to kiss her. A kiss of affection.
I then guided her head back to my hard cock and said “Now I’m going to teach you how I like to be sucked.”
End Part 4
Placing her head within an inch of me I slowly leaned forward ‒ until the tip of my head was next to her lips. She could feel me…. Darted her tongue out to touch me. Instructing her in clear graphic terms I told her how to engulf the head, use her tongue, and properly purse her lips. She proved to be well experienced ‒ but more importantly was an active listener and good student.
In setting our limits she had specified that she didn’t like deep throat and preferred not to have me ejaculate in her mouth. So I was careful to show her what I liked, how much suction and how much pressure…. Where I was most sensitive and where she needed to be a little more forceful ‒ always ensuring that she was comfortable.
And her teeth…. I took time to tell her how to use her teeth on me… both along the shaft and on my sensitive head. She seemed to really like that, dragging her teeth along the length of me… chewing on the shaft like an ear of corn.
Pulling out for a moment, I dropped to my knees in front of her. Scooted up to her on my knees. Pulled her to me, my erection pressing into her belly. On our knees our heights were closer ‒ kissing her was easier.
Reaching behind her I pulled her to me, a hand on each buttock. My hardness pressed harder onto her. We kissed; tenderly considering the amount of arousal. Tongues teased and played with each other. My hands roamed across her backside, squeezing and caressing. Feeling the firm softness of her body. Stopping to pinch or tickle….. feeling her squirm in my arms. I could feel the softness of her breasts…… remembered the warmth of her mouth. Holding her like this ‒ at my will ‒ gave me such a feeling of masculinity ‒ probably because she seemed so feminine.
My mind wandered for a moment ‒ wondering how she would look in the throes of orgasm. Wondered how it would feel to be inside her. Wondered what it would be like to lay with her afterward, swooning and laughing and sharing the experience. Wondered how it would be to just lie there and hold her.
A slight pain on my lip brought me back to the moment ‒ she was biting my lower lip, teasingly. Time for the game to continue, I thought to myself.
Standing up in front of her again, I once again presented my member to her mouth. She took it in greedily. Knowing that the only contact between us was me in her mouth, I knew that the effect on her would be to give it all of her attention. She didn’t let me down.
“OK” I said. “For the next 10 minutes I want you to practice everything I taught you.”
I watched as her head bobbed on my cock. Oh the tongue action….. she had paid attention. She combine hat I told her with tricks of her own ‒ some absolutely heavenly sensations.
I looked to the left, where a full length mirror displayed us to me. There we were, she on her knees before me, blindfolded, hands bound behind her pushing her breasts forward. My cock appearing, then disappearing into her. I watched as the angle of her head changed as she changed her mouth’s position on me. What an erotic site, what a wanton moment.
“You should see yourself” I said. “You are everyman’s dream.”
“I love watching you suck my cock. Watching the hollow of your cheeks as you work on me. You look so sensuous ‒ so sexy.”
“You walked in this room an upstanding lady. What would your coworkers say if they could see you now; on your knees with me buried in your mouth? A complete stranger, even!” I felt her lips tighten, knew I had struck a chord.
“So everyone thinks you are all prim and proper. They don’t know this side you. They don’t know that you can be a slut.” The urgency of her lips increased.
“I bet there’s someone you pissed off this week who would like to be me right now, forcing you to do things. Making you enjoy it. Making your pussy get all hot and wet, just waiting for a hard cock.”
“If I was your boss you would have to work late a lot. I would make you wear slutty underclothes for me. Nobody in the office would know but you and me ‒ and I would do things all through the day to remind you that I was in charge.”
“We would have to go on business trips, where we would have plenty of time to play. Where I could spend days on end teasing you and keeping you excited ‒ making you satisfy me whenever I wanted.”
I could see that she was picturing things in her mind ‒ I had only an idea what they might be ‒ but the motion on my cock never stopped. She seemed lost with me in her mouth ‒ to places in her imagination.
I felt my orgasm approaching. Her ministrations were becoming too much ‒ the entire time together too erotic ‒ the sight of her too enticing ‒ the sensation too great. I felt myself begin to twitch ‒ that involuntary action just before orgasm. Felt the tightening of my balls. The shuddering of my shaft. The sensation deep in my gut.
She felt it too. I could feel her clamping down on my member, not wanting it to end. Wanting to feel my release. Wanting to have the satisfaction of knowing she made me cum. Wanting to feel my completion ‒ to drain me dry.
I pulled back, out of her mouth. She hobbled forward on her knees, searching for my hardness in her blindfolded darkness ‒ her mouth tracing circles in the air to reach me. Then she found me ‒ immediately pulled me back in hungrily.
I pulled back again and said “You said not in your mouth.”
“Oh please, let me make you cum. I want to ‒ right now.”
“Limits are limits” I said. “More than that ‒ when I cum in a mouth it is with such intensity that I lose control. The pleasure is just too much for me ‒ and, well, I can’t really explain it ‒ but I’m not ready to give that to you yet. Another time, perhaps.”
“Now is time for you to cum.” I said.
End Part 5
Standing her up… I grabbed a glass of water and gave her a drink. A few dribbles traveled down her chest, falling to the floor from her breast.
Reaching up, I slowly pulled the blindfold from her head. She blinked, as her eyes became accustomed to the light. As she focused on me, she smiled. A sweet smile. She immediately looked down at my erection, still sticking out from the zipper of my pants. Then back to me face, deep into my eyes. Ther was a softness there. A vulnerability. A trust. A mischievous glint that told me she was happy, and still excited.
I motioned her towards an overstuffed chair; able to see she was able to walk to it without assistance. I liked the look of her from the back. A full bodied woman. Smooth skin, slight dimples above her buttocks. The metal cuffs still held her hands behind her, making an enticing picture. I wished I had my camera ‒ this was a very erotic shot, just her back, the sweet swell of her hips, tossled hair, light coming from the other side of her, outlining her form.
Reaching the chair, she turned around, to face me. Looking at me with a startling clarity. I got a sense that she was comfortable with herself, with all that had transpired.
“Are your arms OK? Do you want me to loosen the cuffs, take a rest?”
“No, I’m OK she said, “I kinda like it.” “Sit” A simple command. She didn’t even look back, just sat into the chair. I watched her breasts bounce. Nice.
Kneeling between her legs, I grasped a leg in each hand and pulled her toward the edge of the chair, so that her ass was nearly at the edge. My bag was within arms reach ‒ I reached in and pulled out coils of soft cotton rope.
“May I ask a question?” It was the first thing she had said on her own. Her voice surprised me ‒ there was a softness to it, an almost meekness ‒ but somehow there was an underlying strength of someone normally in charge.
“Yes, you may ask” I said.
“What all is in your bag?”
I laughed. “I have many playtoys in here. Some I have had for more than 30 years ‒ some I bought just for today. Would you like to see?”
“Yes, please”
“Well, not today. I have a whole game we can play as we go through the inventory. A wide range of stimulations. Some pleasant, some not. Some for use here in private and some to secretly use together in public. Maybe, if you’re a real good girl and do as you are told, we can play that game some day.”
She laughs. A hearty laugh. “I’d like that” she says.
Uncoiling the rope I lay pieces at my knees. Grabbing a leg in each hand I pull her legs up high, then spread them wide, bringing them to rest over the arms of the chair. The action spreads her wide open; I look down and see it caused the lips of her labia to part just a bit.
It takes mere moments to loop the rope around her ankles, draw the rope behind the chair, and tie them tight. The action causes her knees to bend just a bit, pulls her farther forward toward the end of the chair. I watch as she tests the bonds; am pleased that she can’t move her ankles at all. I consider tying her knees apart and decide not to. Spread as she is ‒ she can’t pull them very far together, and I do want her to have some movement.
Kneeling in front of her, legs tied apart, hands behind her back ‒ I reach forward and idly begin to play with her body. Pinching her breasts, twisting nipples. Tickling her ribs. Running my hands along the insides of her thighs. I watch as she tries to close her legs ‒ and sees that they can’t stop me.
Reaching down I play with her sex. One hand idly rubbing her body, the other gingerly teasing her wetness. Her hips begin to move ‒ toward my pressing hand. We look deep into each others eyes. The fact that she can do nothing to keep me from doing what I want with her ‒ is clearly understood by us both. And somehow we both know I will test her, challenge her ‒ and that she welcomes the challenge. There is an understanding ‒ a clarity.
Once again I reach into my bag, this time pulling out a vibrator. It is a standard 7 inch vibrator, not very thick. It hums as I turn the switch.
She watches as I test it on my arm. And watches as I lower it to her sex. I see her move ‒ trying to get (just a little) away….. unable to escape. I bring it to rest on her labia, begin to trace the shape of her lips. It passes over her clitoris, and a moan escapes.
I use the vibrator gently, teasingly, drawing little pictures on her sex. Changing the pressure and the action; all the while watching her. Her eyes are captivated by the picture of me using the toy on her, watching my motions, not being able to do anything to stop it. Not being able to do anything to control it. Having to lie there and simply accept my play.
I find the parts of her that are sensitive. Of course her clit, but it seems that the outer edges of her lips are very sensitive. The little spot between her vagina and her anus brings a squeal. I remember how she rubbed herself against my hand ‒ told me that her inner lips are responsive.
Reaching with my free hand I spread her lips, see the pinkness. The hand with the vibrator moves forward and the plastic toy enters her. Gently and firmly I move it into her, slowly moving it back and forth. Finally it is inside, though not all the way. I want the vibrating tip near the entrance, near her G-spot and clit. Slowly I move it in circles, watch as she closes her eyes in pleasure. I leave it there, in place.
I stand, the action brings her eyes open, looking up into mine.
“I am going to undress. I am then going to feast on you. I will then fuck you.”
The statement is simple ‒ her eyes reflect a new urgency.
“While I am undressing you will leave the vibrator in place. I will consider what will happen if it falls out….. It may be some sort of punishment ‒ or I may send you home without an orgasm. Oh, I’ll have mine, but you won’t.”
I see the vibrator move, and I know she has clenched her muscles to hold it in place. I see the look of worry ‒ as she feels it slip out. I smile to myself, knowing that the way it was placed ‒ clenching her muscles will expel it. Dirty trick, but very effective. I see concentration as she works her internal muscles ‒ just enough to hold it, not enough to expel. She learns fast.
Standing before her ‒ her eyes are drawn to my erection, still protruding through the opening in my pants. I watch her stare at it ‒ bobbing back and forth as I remove my shirt. She is concentrating on the pressure on the vibrator ‒ which is beginning to have an effect. Watching my cock. Concentrating.
I pull the shirt free, throw it onto the hotel bed.
My hands drop to my belt, pull it open. I pull the belt free from the loops and hold it for her to see.
“Maybe if the toy falls out, I use this on you.”
Concentration…… the vibrations are spreading through her sex. Concentrate.
I set the belt down, the fact that it is within reach is not lost on her. She shudders.
Pulling at the snaps on my pants, I pull them open. They drop to the floor. Stepping out of them I move a step toward her, standing directly over her.
Looking down I see the vibrator sticking out of her. There is a slight movement there, as she clamps her muscles just a bit too tight and it eases out another half inch. The vibrating part of the toy is near her G-spot……..
Her eyes ‒ focused on my erection ‒ grow wide as she sees me reach down and grasp it in my fist. I hold it tight and begin a slow stroking motion, up and down the shaft. She sees a drop of pre-cum become visible, glistening in the light.
I continue stroking. I consider cumming on her like this ‒ maybe I will if she loses the vibrator.
Stroke…. Stroke…. Stroke….
Her breathing has quickened. I believe that if she wasn’t worried about the vibrator ‒ she would have an orgasm right now. I smile.
End Part 6
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What am I into?
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Posted:Oct 30, 2008 5:31 pm
Last Updated:Nov 3, 2014 2:38 pm
2197 Views
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What am I into?
I am into life ‒ living each day and savoring it. I have lived long enough to know that I have only so many more “todays” ahead of me. I don’t regret things I have done in my life but do tend to regret the things that I have not done.
I am into volunteer work. I work with teenagers and have passion for watching them as they discover who they are ‒ find out how they fit in the world ‒ act out as they discover what works for them and what doesn’t.
I am into my business ‒ where I have the opportunity to provide a nurturing environment for professionals and empower them to reach higher than they might otherwise have thought. Sometimes, though, this takes more concentrated energy and time than…….
I am into finding out who someone is; how they feel, how they think, what matters to them, how they deal with their emotions, how we interact.
I am into probing the depths of who I am and discovering the parts of me that I may not be aware of; reveling in both the pleasant and unpleasant discoveries. Being an optimist I find it easy to laugh at myself (which I do regularly).
I am married and am in many ways dedicated to that relationship. Through that relationship I have had many opportunities to learn more about me than would otherwise be possible.
So why, one might ask, am I on this website?
I seek intimacy, which is what I believe we are all looking for. I seek the intimacy that comes from sharing at a level different than I can share with my mate.
So ‒ that said ‒ I can once again answer “What am I into?”
I am into sharing erotic thoughts and fantasies. Not just to voice them or use them to arouse; rather to discover through them what primal components of my personality have yet to be explored. By sharing and feedback and pondering and stimulation of the imagination arousal surely develops ‒ which becomes the catalyst for even more erotic thoughts.
I am into the gift I am given if someone chooses to share themselves with me. To appreciate and savor and tease and please. I am into exploring whatever place we might go together.
I am into the form of a woman; physically, emotionally, spiritually, intellectually…. To feel the softness of her skin, the taste of her neck, the smell of her breath, the sound of her heartbeat. I am into watching her reaction ‒ to see what arouses and what doesn’t. To help her explore her own senses. To push her limits if she wants or to give her comfort if that is what is desired.
I am into the intellect and imagination of my partner ‒ offering ideas and thoughts and experiences she may never have thought to try or was uncomfortable or unsure of in the past. To see what intrigues her. To tease her ‒ spark her imagination; provide a safe place to let her explore………
I am into massages. Long luxurious massages where I can let my oiled hands glide across her body. Where I can trace the shape of her collarbone, feel her muscles loosen beneath my fingers, deftly take her to the point of complete and utter surrender to the ministrations as comfort overcomes. Where, if appropriate, the massage can slowly (ever so slowly) become more erotic as the surrender of comfort gives way to the arousal of the flesh.
I am into talking and writing dirty. As you can see I am not a man of few words. And my words are crafted based on the reaction of my partner; to enhance and excite…… to share.
I am into bondage and discipline. Not just the simple tie-em-up-and-screw-em as is common nowadays on the web; but more subtle and methodical efforts intended to excite the mind more than the body. A favorite scenario for me is to……. Well, I’ll be happy to share if interested. A blindfold truly lets a mind wander where it otherwise might not go; as well as enhancing the other senses.
I am into taking my time. My years have shown me that patience pays off. That to savor and enjoy and immerse ones self into an activity ‒ one needs to be truly present. And to be present I need to feel that I am not rushed, that the journey is by far the best part of the trip. That sometimes reaching the destination brings a sadness that the trip has ended ‒ so enjoy the trip while it lasts.
That’s what I am into.
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