Category: Writing

You never forget your first cock in your ass, you know that? I’ll never forget the way it felt sliding in, the fullness, the pulsing need slamming through my body and the pressure of your hands on the small of my back.

I’ll never forget the delicious pull and stretch of your length moving inside me, stimulating parts of me I hadn’t yet found. The ache and burn of my thigh muscles as I thrust back to meet you, over and over, taking you deeper in.

The sounds you made, deep, satisfied grunts rumbling up through your body, your breath rustling my hair as I listened to the choir of your need.

That’s the thing with need – not superficial scratch an itch need but rather the kind that fills your mind, you obsess about it. The kind that makes your body ache and throb, it feels like it hurts without it.

That’s the kind of need I have for your cock in my ass.

When you’ve tortured me with slow, hard thrusts, that’s when I need your fingers. Thick, unyielding, pressing into the velvety soft heat of my cunt. Filling me completely. Making my pussy airtight, with your thumb pressing quick clockwise circles around my clit. Letting me rock my hips like an animal in heat, my biology hardwired to make you cum inside me.

That’s when I need your free hand around my throat, squeezing just enough to restrict my airflow, and your lips pressed against my ear telling me you’re going to cum in my ass. Telling me how you’re going to finish inside me and then slide a plug in so I have to spend my day with your semen in my ass.

How I’ll have to run errands and stand in line at the grocery store and do my laundry knowing full well that I’m filled with your cum.

And when you move your hand down to my breast and give my nipple a hard squeeze, my orgasm will catch me completely off guard. It will hit me like a train, making my body spasm around you as my brain tries to figure out where all those fireworks are coming from. Over and over, I’ll just keep cumming as you use my asshole to get yourself off.

And just like the first time, when we’ve both settled, you’ll keep your promise and slide a plug into my ass to keep me marked and full and horny for the rest of the day.

So yeah. I really want you to fuck my ass.

His muscles strain against the rope binding him to the coffee table and the sound that erupts from him is one of the most sinful sounds I’ve ever heard.

From the end of the table, I admire the beautiful welts just beginning to raise, the scarlet marks left by the kiss of my riding crop against his skin. It’s a powerful feeling, watching a person completely at your mercy, drinking in the adoration in their eyes as you hurt them just the way they need it. Until that moment, I hadn’t known there was a secret need to dominate buried inside me, but the right submissive brought it screaming to the surface.

My sexual history has never been particularly vanilla – I’m a practical woman with practical needs and I’m not shy about one night stands and friends with benefits arrangements. I like trying new things – it’s why I made a sex tape with a stranger when I had my sexual debut. Although I was game for pretty much anything, most of the men I was with were either dominant or not into the kink scene at all. Until I met the aforementioned man I tied to my table.

He was something else. Shy. Quiet. We met in the middle of winter and he was so nervous he could barely drink the cup of tea I offered when we got to my apartment. I thought he was cute, the way he reacted whenever I said something complimentary to him made my insides flutter. I didn’t realize he was submissive until late one night we were talking about the kind of sex we liked and he sent me links to a few femdom videos. He didn’t ease me into it either, I always appreciated that. I’m very much an all-in kind of woman and I love it when people are balls out upfront and honest with me. This sub was a major masochist and I was shocked when I saw what he was into – and even more shocked that I enjoyed watching it.

I must’ve surprised him when I told him I’d be willing to explore it with him if he wanted to try some of those things in real life. I watched and read a ton of porn and had him send me pictures and videos of things that turned him on. So we made a plan one evening that he’d come over and I would dominate him. By this time we had talked about this a lot, and had decided on the color system and check ins instead of a regular safeword.

So when I heard the door to my apartment open, I could hardly keep myself from smirking. This was it. Something new. And I was so excited. I had picked out a black pencil skirt and white dress shirt, tucked in. My hair was in a bun, and I had topped everything off with high heeled boots and a pair of shiny latex gloves.

“Take off your clothes.”

My voice didn’t even sound like my own. I sounded like someone who commanded respect, someone much older than my 21 years. I held my breath as I watched him undress, inch after inch of skin slowly revealed to me. He was already half erect from just the anticipation.

Naked now, he looked at me expectantly. “Get on all fours,” I said quietly. He quickly complied. I leaned forward and crooked my finger at him. “Crawl to me.”

There was something so controlled and yet so primal inside me as I watched him moving toward me on his hands and knees. He nuzzled my thigh and I felt my cunt begin to throb. I ran my fingers through his hair and tilted his face up, caressing the soft skin under his chin with my gloved hand. “Good boy.”

Crossing my legs, I caressed his cheek with the side of my boot and smirked. “Clean them,” I said, and he immediately turned his head and slowly licked the insole, making my boot sparkle with his spit. Watching his tongue slip out of his mouth and glide along the supple leather of my shoe was one of the most erotic moments of my life. Seeing this man on his knees in front of me, worshipping me, degrading himself by cleaning my boots with his tongue… it was as if I could feel every swipe of his tongue between my legs. When both boots were shining and he was whimpering, I rose slowly from my comfortable seat.

I led him to the coffee table and helped him up, positioning him so I could secure his arms and legs. He was panting as I let my eyes wander over his body. I was wetter than I’d ever been before, and we hadn’t even touched each other yet.

I pulled my skirt up slowly to reveal my black lacy panties and thigh high stockings, then straddled his face. “Lick mommy’s pussy,” I said, and he responded by licking a long stripe up my slit through the lace. I rolled my hips, riding his face, teasing myself until I could take no more. I reached between my legs and pulled the lace of my panties aside, granting him better access. He devoted himself to worshipping my pussy with his tongue, circling my clit and dipping into my folds. My thighs trembled as he moved his tongue in and out of my cunt. I stroked and pinched my clit while he did, my first orgasm slamming into me and making me cry out.

As I caught my breath, I turned my attention to his cock, generously lubing my gloved hand and wrapping my fingers around the base. I stroked him languidly, drinking in his reaction to every touch. I slid my other hand up over his stomach to his chest, taking time to tweak each nipple.

“You are my plaything,” I said, tightening my grip on his shaft. “Your existence is only for my pleasure. Your body is built for my pleasure. You were made to worship me.” His pupils were blown wide as he watched me stroke his cock. “Repeat it,” I said, my voice a threatening whisper.

His voice shook as he told me he existed solely for my pleasure, it’s what he was built for, and he was made to worship me. To reward him for his obedience, I leaned down and took the head of his cock in my mouth, swirling my tongue and sucking. He shuddered and a long, low moan slipped from between his lips – lips that still glistened with fresh nectar from my cunt.

I sucked his cock for a few minutes, revelling in the taste of him and aroused by his struggle to keep from cumming too soon. Pulling off, I released him from his bonds just long enough to reposition him on all fours, granting access to his gorgeous ass. As I secured him once more, I checked his color to make sure he was still ok. “Green,” he answered, and so I picked up my riding crop.

I dragged the tip of the crop along his skin, down over his back, down between his legs and teased his balls with it. “Count down from five for me,” I said, rubbing the unmarked skin of his ass with the crop. Pulling my arm back, I brought the crop down hard across the flesh. He cried out, straining against his bonds, but he didn’t call red. Shakily, he said “Five”, and I knew it was safe to continue.

Four more times my crop met his skin, painting him with gorgeous welts. As I soothed the angry marks with one hand, I stroked his throbbing cock with the other. When he was calm, I repositioned him once again and straddled him, trapping his cock between us and grinding.

He began to pant and beg for me to fuck him, to take his cock deep inside me, let him worship me. His need was music to my ears. By then I had dripped my own need all over this shaft, so tilting my hips and taking him in was easy.

Digging my fingers into his chest, I rode him hard and rough, seeking my own pleasure above all. The only word left in my submissive’s vocabulary was “please”, but in that moment there was no sweeter song. My second orgasm was more intense than the first, my body spasming, my mind obliterated. And he followed soon after, shooting rope after rope of delicious cum deep inside my pussy.

After the noise of our pleasure, there was only silence in my apartment. Soft breaths as we both floated. I turned to look at my partner only to find he was crying. Alarmed, I quickly untied him and gathered him into my arms. With shaky breaths and a trembling voice, he thanked me. Thanked me for giving him what he’d so badly been needing. We held each other for a long time, first on the living room floor, then in the shower as we scrubbed the sex from each other’s skin, then again in my bed. Wrapped in soft blankets with soft whispered words and touches, I finally understood what it means to be dominant. What a beautiful gift it is to hold power freely given by a devoted one.

My hand tightens around the hilt of the knife as I rock the blade through the peppers I’m currently chopping. Beads of sweat bloom across my forehead and I quickly wipe them away with the back of my hand before returning to my task.

It’s not the work that’s making me sweat, however. It’s the vibrator comfortably seated inside my pussy, pulsing with increasing frequency. It’s currently being controlled by someone in another country, someone who enjoys toying with me and pushing me to the very edge of my limits. I struggle to remain calm, breathing steadily, trying not to alert any of my co-workers to the fact that as I stand beside them in this spacious industrial kitchen, I’m being rendered mindless with lust from the toy inside me.

I feel my cunt growing slicker and fluttering, biting back a moan and swallowing it as a co-worker comes up to ask me something. They need to repeat the question twice more before I can make heads or tails of it.

I’ve been working up to this moment, first wearing the vibe around the house to get comfy, then taking short trips outside. This is the first time I’ve tried working with it in, and I’m struggling. All I want to do is press myself against the counter and rut until I explode, but I’ve been given strict instructions not to cum until I get back home.

The day passes in a haze, and I manage to make it across the field to the bus stop without my knees buckling. The ride home, however, is an even bigger challenge. The bus hits every pothole and each movement bumps the toy until I’m trying to grind subtly into the seat, soaking my panties and aching for release. I’ve been teetering on the edge for five hours at this point, my cunt is throbbing and my nipples are painfully hard against the fabric of my bra.

As the bus pulls into the station, I feel a sudden fullness. An unfamiliar feeling, but not an unpleasant one. I disembark and make my way across the parking lot, toward my street, my mind entirely focused on how hard I’m going to cum when I get in the door. I’m nothing but need, hornier than I’ve ever been from the teasing and exhibitionism… being secretly naughty gets me hot, especially when there’s a risk of being caught by strangers.

With shaking hands, I fit my key inside the lock and turn it, bursting inside my apartment. No one else is home, so I slide my hand into my leggings and rub my hard, throbbing clit with quick fingers. Bucking my hips and throwing my head back against the door, my body tenses as my orgasms slam into me. I cum so hard I’m silent at first, and then I’m screaming. I turn off the toy and lay on the floor, panting, my whole body shuddering with pleasure like I’ve never known. I feel like a slut. A whore. A needy piece of fuckmeat. I feel beautiful, a divine being of pure lust.

Shakily, I climb to my feet and stagger to the bathroom to remove my toy and clean myself up. I tug my leggings and ruined panties down over my trembling thighs and toss them aside, reaching for the toy and slowly pulling it out.

For hours, I’ve felt so full, and I know once the vibrator leaves my body I’ll feel empty again. But what I don’t expect is the very solid splash of liquid that hits the linoleum as my greedy pussy relinquishes the toy.

For a moment I’m stunned. This has never happened before – the liquid is clear and unlike anything I’ve ever seen come out of my body.

And then it hits me – that feeling of fullness on the bus. I squirted. I, a thirtysomething year old woman, had not only squirted for the first time in my life, but I had done so on public transit, held it inside, and masturbated. The thought alone is enough to send another flood of arousal to my already abused pussy.

I clean my mess and my toy, then go to my bedroom and strip off all my clothes. I’m too horny, and even the earth shattering orgasms I had in the hallway aren’t enough to satisfy me. But I need to be naked, need to be able to run my hands over my bare breasts while I fuck myself again.

I stretch out on my bed, getting comfortable and spreading my legs. I move one hand over my breasts, pinching the nipples and twisting them between my fingers. My other hand moves down, stroking between my thighs, gathering the wetness and rubbing my clit with the pads of my fingers.

I moan and whimper, writhing until the sheets begin to knot. Eyes shut, mouth open, bucking my hips into my own hand. I slide my fingers in my cunt and at that point my brain shuts completely off. I am no more than an animal in heat, solely focused on the building pressure inside me and racing toward the relief my climax will bring.

It isn’t long before another orgasm sweeps through my body and I’m crying out, so loud I’m sure the neighbors can hear me. Tears spring to my eyes and the pleasure is so much that it’s almost painful.

I come down slowly, a chill settling over my heated skin. I pull the blankets up around me as my breathing begins to slow, and I bask in the afterglow of my debauchery. Sexual discovery really never ends and I have so much more to learn about my own body.

I hear it before I feel it, the swift stinging of your hand across the sensitive flesh of my ass. The burn blooms like a flower and my skin reddens where you spanked me.

I’m addicted to this part, when you give over to your need and pound in and out of me, raw, ragged, and animalistic. It’s my favorite kind of sex, the kind that always leaves me sweaty and breathless. You’re behind me, the fingers of one hand digging into my hip and the other marking my ass with your love. Over and over. Until I almost can’t take any more.

I arch my back and press my face into the mattress, granting you better access to my soaking wet cunt, taking you deeper inside my fluttering walls. The headboard slams into the wall behind us, tiny chips of paint cracking off and floating to the floor while I float closer to the ceiling.

You bring your hand up to cup my throat, squeezing gently and cutting off my air. My cunt tightens around your cock in response and I lean harder into your hand. Your breath is hot against my ear as you growl “Cum on my cock first, then you can breathe.”

My head throbs and my pussy aches with need – I’m so very close to exploding and the need to cum or breathe or faint are all jumbled up and overwhelming. But you can read my body like a book, you always know just what I need, and you move your hand from my hip to my clit and press your thumb into it, hard.

I don’t cum. I obliterate. Gasping for air, wordless screams scraping their way up my throat and out my mouth, my body bucking and thrashing as my cunt spasms wildly around your cock. My brain is on fire, short circuiting, there is nothing but you and I and the expanse of this universe of pleasure we’ve created. You crash over your edge shortly after, cock twitching and then shooting thick ropes of hot cum deep inside me.

There’s no sound except our panting for a long time after. The weight of you on my back is comforting and keeps me warm even as my spent body begins to cool. Finally, you stir, pulling out of me and laying down beside me, pulling me closer and wrapping us both in my blanket.

When the morning comes, I wake you up with my mouth. I never get tired of feeling your cock harden with my lips wrapped around it, hearing your breath speed up as I swirl my tongue around your shaft and cup your balls in my hand. It’s better than breakfast. When you realize you’re balls deep in my throat and begin to rock your hips, pushing my head down, then I know you’re finally conscious.

Only then will I crawl up over your body, my breasts swinging in your face, and settle myself on top of you. Trapping your hard cock between us, grinding into you as your hands find my tits and my tongue slips inside your mouth. And when you angle yourself perfectly to slip inside me I’m made whole again. Driven by my animalistic need to take you, to own you in this moment, to bite down on your shoulder in the throes of passion hard enough to make it ache all the way through your workday.

I want you to taste me, smell me, and feel me while you’re at work so when you come back home again, you devour me.

I can see your breath as we run to the street corner to hail a cab. You’re holding my hand and we’re laughing – the sound echoes, mixed with the wet slapping of our feet on snow-covered pavement.

I’ve been breathless since I met you. Your eyes, so full of mischief, so easy to get lost in while we sat in a dingy dive bar nursing a shared pitcher of cheap beer. I’ve loved men like you before. You’re like shooting stars – so brilliant and brief and leaving lasting impressions on my heart, as well as between my legs.

I knew I was going to fuck you from the minute we said hello. I’m not one to shy away from sex on the first date, and I told you as much, smirking at you over the rim of my glass. I thought you were going to spit out your drink. I suppose you haven’t met many women like me, women who are honest with their intentions and open with their sexuality. I assure you, there are more of us out there than you think.

So we agreed to go back to my place once the flirting turned not so innocent and the air grew thick with need. Our intention to walk the short distance to my small apartment quickly changed when we stepped out into the frigid December air.

A cab finally pulls over and we get inside, huddling together as I give the driver my address. Your hand finds mine again and you begin to trace patterns on my palm. I can barely contain myself as each gentle stroke of your fingers sends shockwaves through my body, directly between my legs. You’re warm and solid and I can feel my need growing from a throb to a gnawing ache. I want to kiss you, but I don’t know if it’s the right time yet. I’m always in my head about these things.

Soon enough, the cab pulls up in front of my building, the snow beginning to fall from the sky in earnest. We dash inside and I fumble my key with frozen fingers before the door finally relents and we’re inside. We giggle as we wait for the elevator, and when its metal doors grind open, I step inside with you right behind me. Turning around, I lean against the wall and smile at you, my tongue slipping out to pointedly dance along my bottom lip. I see your eyes flick down to watch me, and then you’re crossing the elevator in one stride to press your body against mine.

Before I can react, your mouth is on mine, your tongue exploring. My body instantly responds, arms wrapping around you and pulling you closer as we kiss. I can feel your arousal already, hard and insistent against my thigh. Your hands move down to cup my ass and I whimper into your mouth. I can’t remember the last time I was this horny, all I can think about is getting you back to my bed so I can impale myself on your throbbing cock.

The elevator doors open with a ding as we reach my floor, and we stare at each other for a moment before we exit. My apartment is at the end of the hallway and we break into a run, trying to keep down the noise of our laughter so as not to disturb my neighbors. You’re beautiful to me in that moment. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone look more excited or carefree and I hope that my face mirrors the joy I’m seeing in yours.

I make quick work of the lock and then we’re inside, shutting the door, reaching for each other and crashing into the walls as we tangle ourselves together again. Your hands are everywhere, groping and squeezing and fondling, making my body sing. I’ve never felt anything so electric, never tasted anything as sweet as your tongue.

We undress each other, driven by the need to feel skin against skin. When I’m finally naked and pressing my breasts into your chest, I feel you shudder. Your cock is fully erect and smearing pre-cum against my thigh as we hold each other. You push my shoulder and I fall onto the bed, spreading my legs and grinning wickedly.

You grip my thighs and spread me wider, leaning down and inhaling the sweet scent of my arousal. It’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen, watching your pupils blow wide when you scent me. You move deliberately and I clench with anticipation. When you finally delve your tongue between my lips and gather my nectar on your tongue, the broken moan that erupts from my mouth is the unholiest sound I’ve ever made.

Your tongue slips and slides against me, circling and flicking against my clit, dipping down to plunge inside me. I grip your head and grind into your face, the muscles of my thighs and stomach fluttering rapidly. My eyes roll back and I close them so I can focus entirely on how good your tongue feels on my cunt. You don’t relent until you make me cum, and when it happens it hits me like a tidal wave. You hold me still as I ride wave after wave of pleasure, then you crawl up over my body to kiss me and I taste myself on your tongue.

I giggle into our kiss and flip you onto your back, straddling you and capturing your lips with mine again. I lace my fingers with yours and guide your hands behind your head, silently imploring you to keep them there. I work my way down over your body, licking, kissing, and nipping your skin, getting closer to your cock. Eyes locked on yours, I wrap my fingers lightly around you and lick the underside from base to tip before taking the head into my mouth and sucking. I use my lips and tongue to wet your cock, and then slowly slide you into my throat, flexing around you as my tongue slips out to tickle your balls.

The sounds you’re making are driving me higher, spurring me on, making me feel so powerful. There’s nothing more satisfying than watching a man writhe and moan and lose control, driven toward his need like an animal toward prey. You are sex in a bottle and I’m completely drunk on you.

Pulling off with a pop, I move back up and straddle you, the tip of your cock bumping against my cunt as I line you up. I sink down, slowly, enveloping you in my wet heat, stretching around you, growing accustomed to this welcome invasion of my body. What comes next is frantic, grinding and bouncing, your hands first stinging my tits and ass with slaps and then soothing with caresses. The obscene and sacred wet slapping as our bodies meet. I’m lost in a sea of my own making and you’re my only anchor as wave after wave of pleasure crashes into me.

We climax together, holding onto each other to ride it out. Connected. You flood my womb with rope after rope of thick, sweet cum and my pussy flutters around you, milking every drop.

This is what our bodies were designed to do. There’s purpose in this pleasure. Whoever decided sex is only for procreation is doing it wrong because what we just did was the highest and most base form of entertainment.

Your breath ghosts across my lips as we come down, and I press one more kiss to your mouth as I pull you out of me. I wince slightly at the loss and then settle down beside you, spent. You hold my hand again, tickling my palm, and I close my eyes.

I know that in the morning, you’ll be gone. That we may or may not see each other again. That sex like this can be both a beginning and an end. But I don’t care. We made each other feel good in the moment and nothing can diminish that.

As our bodies cool and our hearts trade the staccato beat of passion for regularity, I drift off to sleep sated and comfortable.

Sex isn’t really complicated, after all, and reality has never been welcome in my bedroom.