fucking your ass

CW anal fucking, strap on, pegging (m/f)

You lie on your front. Your bare bottom points to the sky, lifted up to a nice fuckable angle with pillows. It’s a delicious rosy pink where I have spanked it. I stroke your bare exposed flank, feeling how soft the skin and hair are there. I lower my bare body onto you. My electric blue cock nestles between your ass-cheeks and you whimper. I kiss the back of your neck, the place I know gives you tingles all over. “You’ve been very good for me, sweetie,” I say. “Preparing yourself to take me inside you.”

Your little mm and ah sounds are eager, trusting. I stroke your hair and kiss all over your neck and cheek. You wiggle your bum experimentally, feeling my hard cock against your hole. You don’t like teasing as much as I do. I love teasing. I love to tease and be teased.

I clamber to the side of you, half-draping myself on you for better access to your hole. I spread thick lube on my fingers and circle your asshole with them as you moan in anticipation, your breath shuddering in and out of you.

“Ohh, already so pliant down there,” I say sweetly as my fingertip slips in. Your asshole is much deeper than mine.

I begin to spread your asshole with two fingers, going deeper, and gently stretching you, which makes you moan. It takes very little to coax your little hole open, as you’ve prepared yourself so well.

You say breathlessly into the pillow, “I can take more.”

“I know you can, sweetie,” I say as I reach the spot I’m looking for, first with one finger, rubbing the firm nub, which renders you absolutely unable to form words as you moan helplessly with pleasure.

“So eager,” I say, admiring your pliancy, your obedience, your willingness, and your sweet moans. “Such a good boy.”

Next I work on stretching you out. Two fingers again, and then three. With every stroke, I brush your ever-more sensitive prostate. I swear I can feel it swelling to meet my fingers.

I can tell that speech is quite a struggle, as between moans you manage only, “P,” “P,” “P,” until finally the word, “Please,” emerges, stretched out into a breathy moan.

“Please what, sweetie?” I say innocuously, stilling the thrusting of my fingers to linger on your prostate, stroking it sweetly as you struggle to say what I know you want to say.

“Please,” you whimper between words as I work your sweet little nub, “Fuck me.”

“Good boy,” I say, and I kiss the back of your neck again, fingers still in your ass, working your prostate, and you shiver, absolutely vulnerable, completely in my hands.

I turn you onto your side and I lube up my hard cock. I press the tip just against your hole. You whimper, whining for my cock inside you.

Slowly, glacially, I push the tip inside. You moan at being penetrated, but then whimper for more as I stay still, teasing you. And you’re a good boy for me, letting me tease you when what you really want is my cock deep inside your ass and a good, thorough fucking.

I hold you close, nestling my nose into the curve of your neck, where I can breathe in the scent of you, trapped in the beautiful hair of your body.

You whimper and whimper, as I move the cock slowly deeper inside you. I know you want hard fucking. And I’ll give it to you, but first I want to hear your beautiful whines, your little whimpers as you beg me wordlessly for my cock.

And then I fuck you. Slowly at first, reveling in your throaty moans when I hit your prostate and in your whimpers for every inch in between.

“More, please, more, more,” you beg me, your voice ragged.

I grip your hipbones hard with my hands and fuck you as deeply and as hard as I can. Your low groans become loud cries.

“Touch yourself, baby, I want you to come,” I say. I slam that asshole, the way you’ve told me you like to do to yourself, and you cry out on every stroke, louder and louder, and more guttural, until you come with a shout, ribbons of creamy white come all over your hand, your cock, the sheets.

“Coming out now,” I say, as I slowly, gently pull the cock out of you with a tiny little pop, kissing your neck, your shoulders, and stroking your back, your arm, your shoulder. “Turn over so I can see you,” I say, and you do. I rest my head on your chest and lie in your arms, holding you and squeezing you, marveling at how wonderful it is to hold and be held at once.

You sigh a deep, contented sigh. We are still, breathing in the silence. I close my eyes, feeling sleepy.

“You know, I’m still gonna fuck you later,” you say.

I can hear the smile in your voice. I kiss your chest and squeeze you. “Mmm I can’t wait,” I say, feeling my nether regions warm at the prospect.

I feel you smile again. You know me so well. You always sense the ebb and flow of my desire. Or maybe I’m just transparent, like a panting dog. You put your hand on my thigh and it sends an electric tingle all over my body as you say, “Let’s see if there’s a wet pussy underneath this cock, hmm??”

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birthday cock

CW: strap on, choking, blow job

It’s a Saturday, the Saturday before my birthday, and you have a special gift for me. Last night I opened the first of the birthday gifts—I put my face between your beautiful, full breasts and breathed in your rich, warm scent. I kissed your soft skin, I nipped at your delicate seashell of an ear and delighted in your uncoiling moan. You are such a sumptuous present. Your full, soft body is a voluptuous store of riches, spilling out of your clothes. I love having you naked, soft and vulnerable in my arms. I love your soft pillowy breasts, your beautiful peach of an ass, and your dreamy ginger-haired pussy, the jewel between your legs. I pulled the most colorful moans from your mouth with my tongue, and I pulled the richest cream of your orgasm out of your pussy with my fingers last night. What a gift. But you whispered in my ear after we lay together, sweat cooling on our bodies, just before we fell asleep together, that you had a gift for me that could top this most wonderful present.

Late afternoon begins to turn to evening, and you announce that you have made a reservation for us at a fancy steakhouse downtown. You disappear into the bathroom to perform your toilette, and emerge from the steam in a suit. I already shiver in anticipation at the well-cut suit jacket and pants. I dress accordingly in high heels, garters, thigh high tights, and a lacy black bra. My little black velvet dress is just the thing for the occasion. You call a cab and we sit close in the back of the darkened car. Your hand rests on my thigh, playing with the seam where bare skin transitions to silky pantyhose and lace. I rest my hand on your thigh in response. You smile conspiratorially at me in the dark and you move my hand to your crotch. I gasp and my eyes widen at the bulge I feel there. I feel my pussy heat with the implications.

At dinner, we are seated in a private booth with a curtain shielding us from sight. I eagerly scoot to your side of the circular booth, aiming to put my hand on your cock, but you kiss me, tweak my nipple, smile, and say, “Not yet. Be a good girl and be patient.” At this moment, the waiter arrives.

“Good evening, ladies. Can I interest you in something to drink? An aperitif perhaps? Or some wine?”

“A vodka martini. Belvedere. Very dry. Shaken, with a twist, please,” you say. Every night I watch you make precisely this beverage for yourself. (And I watch your breasts move as you shake your cocktail.) Then sometimes I will shake it for you. And every once in a while, I will shake it for you wearing nothing but a little lacy apron and high heels.

“Anything for you, miss?”

“An aperol spritz, please.”

The waiter leaves, thank God. I can feel my wetness through my panties already. It’s going to be a long dinner.

After the salad course, you bring a little velvet drawstring bag out of your pocket and place it in my hand on the table.

I feel immediately through the velvet its shape—a lovely sinuous curve, hard, just a little heavy. And another object, not quite as heavy or hard. I go to open it, but you smile and say, “Don’t open it. Tell me what you think it is.”

I look around to see that no one is listening in. Then I lean across the table and you lean in close with a conspiratorial glint in your eye. “It’s a butt plug.”

“Good,” you say, satisfied. “Now I want you to go to the ladies room and put it on. You have everything you need in the bag.”

My eyes are wide in surprise and arousal. I put the little black bag in my purse and make my way to the bathroom.

It’s a fancy bathroom, with soft lighting and real cloth hand towels instead of paper ones. The stalls are extra private, full doors. I lock myself inside a stall and slip my black lace panties down. I play with my clit for a moment and then take out the little black bag. The butt plug is shiny and silver. I’ve never had such a heavy butt plug before. I set it on the little table beside the toilet and squirt a little lube onto one finger.

I am already feeling pink and rosy flushed with arousal as I circle my tender little asshole with my finger. It feels so wonderfully dirty and subversive to finger my asshole over the ladies’ room toilet in such a fancy place. The bathroom is all luxury; there’s even a section with plush velvet and gold couches and a little glass bowl of peppermints. The stall itself has a little table with a bowl of artfully arranged potpourri. Any stodgy old lady could walk in to use the restroom and never know that only a few feet away, a bisexual is opening up her little rosebud at the behest of her lady-love. I try not to pant audibly as my hole warms and loosens.

I spread a slick of lube on the plug itself, appreciating its heft in my hand. I ease it in, slowly, enjoying the sensation of stretching as I master the widest part of the plug. And then it sucks in, filling me, stretching me. My clit is throbbing to be touched and my pussy is getting wetter all the time, but I think you must be wondering what’s taking so long, so I pass my finger just once from my wet pussy to my clit and then twice, a third time because I can’t resist, and then I master the impulse and pull my panties up to hold the plug in. It feels so deliciously weighty and causes all kinds of pleasurable sensations as I get up.

As I go to wash my hands, feigning nonchalance, I accidentally make eye contact with another woman at the sink next to mine. And she smiles like a predator at my rose-flush. I blush harder and look away. But she doesn’t follow me as I make my way back to the table. As I sit, the plug shifts and I close my eyes. When I open them you are smiling knowingly. I do my best begging face. I’m so turned on and fuckable. But you just smile and say, “I am so looking forward to having a nice steak, aren’t you?”

“Some lady knew something was up with me in the bathroom,” I say.

You put your hand on top of mine. “She wants you. But she can’t have you. You’re mine.”

“Yes,” I say. “I’m yours.”

It’s all civility and chivalry between dinner and my apartment—holding open doors, offering me your arm, squeezing my hand, kissing my temple. Everything above board (with the occasional surreptitious ass-squeeze that makes my plug shift deliciously inside me).

But inside my apartment is a different story. You order me on my knees and pull your gorgeous electric blue cock out of your fly. I kiss the tip tentatively, then lick up and down its length. I swirl my tongue around the tip, enjoying the sensation of being on my knees, loving the shape of it in my mouth. Only a minute or two has passed and you grab me by the hair, making me choke on it. It’s as though my mouth was made to choke on cock; I produce so much thick, ropey spit. It coats your cock and makes my progress easier. You hold my head down on your cock, waiting for my puckered throat to open up. “Stick out your tongue, baby,” you say, softly, coaxingly. I oblige and the cock slides into my throat. At first I choke; it’s a struggle, it feels unnatural. But you say, “relax baby, let me,” and I let you because it’s hot for me, because it makes me unbelievably horny. I moan around your cock; I love sucking it, I love choking on it, I love taking it deep into my throat, where it feels unnatural, and I love it even more when you pinch my nostrils for a moment, limiting my air supply. And you know I love these things, God bless you. You lean forward to slap my plug-filled ass, your cock deep in my throat, and then you pull back. Thick, white ropes of spit hang between my chin and the tip of your cock.

Then you let me drive a while. Now that I’m warmed up, throat and mouth sloppy with spit, I choke myself on your cock, lavish attentions with my throat and tongue. Then you pull me up and throw me over the arm of the couch, pushing my skirt out of the way and pulling down my panties to examine my pussy.

“You’re dripping, literally dripping,” you say as you swipe one finger from inside my slick pussy up to my clit, which aches to be touched. I whimper.

You pick me up and carry me to the bed, where you put your face next to my pussy, breathe deep with a long mmm of appreciation, and then bury your face in my wetness, licking me and tugging on that plug until I’m begging for your cock inside me.

The fucking is the most intimate part. We’re naked now, but for the cock and its harness on you. We’ve taken out the butt plug—it served its purpose, we agreed. Your beautiful breasts press against mine. You hold me close. I’m surrounded by your smell. You put your cock inside me. And you stare into my eyes as you plunge it in and out and as I cry out in pleasure. From above, you watch the pleasure contort my face, your cock moving inside me and your hand on my clit—you know just how to touch it to make me come. You lean down onto my torso, still fucking me, your hand trapped between our bodies, grinding hard on my clit, and you whisper in my ear, “Come for me, baby, come,” and I do, explosively, squeezing the cock so hard it pops out and you shove it back in, and out, and in and out, all the while grinding my clit with the heel of your hand, making me really scream through not just the top of my orgasm but also through the tail of it.

I come down from my pleasure concerned about yours. “Did you like it? I know this is kind of a new thing we’re doing…”

“I loved fucking you,” you say. “And you know, I thought the choking you thing would be too much for me, but I knew how much you’ve been wanting to do it, and seeing you get so wet, hearing you moan… it was really hot for me.” You take the harness off, tossing it to the side. “If you eat me out, you’ll see just how wet I got.”

I growl in approval. “That’s my girl,” I say, feeling hungry for pussy. “That’s just what I wanted to hear. Let’s see about this wet pussy, then, shall we??”

And so I lick and lick and lick you, my lady-love, until you come into my mouth and I drink in your juices and your shuddering moans; the juices run down my chin, beautiful, sticky, and clear.

As we fall asleep naked in each other’s arms, I murmur, “Best birthday ever,” and you smile, but I think you may already be dreaming, and in the next moments, your gentle snore lulls me to sleep.

Business Fuck

I call you into my office to take a memo down. “Close the door behind you, please.”

You are dutifully copying down every word I say and you are already halfway through recording the sentence, “Would you like to suck my cock?” before you think to look up. You look bewildered. You are probably wondering just what cock I’m referring to. You don’t know that I keep a silver beauty of a cock in my desk for just these occasions. I keep this appendage around because I never know when some dirty little girl is going to need some fucking. That dirty little girl is you.

Your skirt is short—practically indecent. In fact it’s so short that anyone can plainly see that you’re wearing thigh highs and no panties. I have been rubbing myself through my trousers ever since you walked in this morning. I couldn’t help but realize that your skirt was so short, you were undoubtedly forced to sit with your bare ass and your uncovered pussy against the leather of your chair. I’ve been thinking of you pressing your wet little pussy into your chair and getting it damp with your juices and it has distracted me quite from my business today.

So I clipped my cock into place (I like to be prepared for these things, so having underwear that doubles as a clip in harness for my cock is a must), and asked you in here to take a memo. But I don’t want you to take a memo. Really I want to watch your sweet little mouth stretching around that big cock under my desk. I want to see you on your knees, sweet little girl. I want to tweak your little nipples and watch you suck it until you are wet enough to fuck. Then I want to tease you with my finger, alternate between flicking your clit and rubbing it oh-so-gently… and I could certainly go on. The volume of dirty fantasies I’ve had about you is amazing.

I pull the cock out of my pants and you don’t require any other encouragement. You crawl on your hands and knees—bless you, it gives me the perfect view of your tight round ass and your exposed pussy—and settle in under my desk, where no one can see you, as though you read my mind. I return to my email and you suckle sweetly on my big cock.

A colleague of ours steps into the office, knocking on the door. “Hey chief, sorry to bother. Do you know where Chrissy is? I wanted to schedule an appointment with you.”

I bet you’re wetter than ever, sucking my cock under my desk, out of sight. “She stepped out for her lunch break. She’ll be back later this afternoon and you can schedule something then.”

“OK, boss.”

“Close the door behind you.”

He does.

“Are you ready for me to play with your pussy, dirty little slut? I want to see how wet you are.”

You lay on your back on the floor with your legs in my lap. It looks a little uncomfortable, but you seem to be beyond caring when I begin to touch your slit and clit. “Good girl, you got so wet for me, sucking my cock.” I spread your ample wetness around and begin with the softest, lightest strokes on your clit. You moan in ecstasy and get wetter. You are such a good girl for me, your legs spread wide.

I increase the pressure on your clit and slip a finger into your wet pussy. You moan and contract. I chuckle. “It’s a good thing there’s an all company meeting down the hall right now, otherwise Chad and Robert and Stephanie would hear what a little slut you are.” Your little moans are making me wet in my harness. I fuck you shallowly with my fingers, all the while increasing my attentions to your hard little clit.

Suddenly, with a gasp, you tighten up from head to toe, your legs tense and your pussy clenching around my hand. You exclaim between gasps twice, then screw your face up, your eyes closed and come magnificently without a sound or breath, your back arched, your pussy tight like a vice grip around my fingers.

“Good girl,” I breathe out, amazed and aroused. “Are you ready for my cock?”

“Yes, please,” you say breathlessly. “Yes, yes, yes.”

I help you out from under the desk and hoist you up into my lap and onto my cock. Your little skirt is rucked up and out of the way around your waist. I unbutton the top of your shirt and push your lacy bra aside as I bounce you up and down easily on my big dick. With every thrust you let out a primal cry of approval.

“Can you be a good little girl and be quiet for me?” You nod. I pinch your nipples hard and you tremble and whimper with the effort of keeping quiet. I grab hold of you underneath your tight little ass and use my grip there to bounce you up and down. “Oh fuck that’s so good. I love your ass.”

“Now I want you to ride my cock like a good little whore.” I tweak your nipples as you work yourself up and down, up and down on my cock. “Yes, just like that. That’s so hot.” I give your ass a little slap and you gasp in pleasure.

You whimper as you sit on my cock, letting it penetrate you deep. You kiss me sloppily and then return your focus to rocking back and forth on top of me, writhing in my lap. Your face glows and you have a fine sheen of sweat on you.

“Now get up and go around the other side of the desk. Bend over it.” I pat your exposed flanks admiringly and slap your ass. “Fuck that’s good.” I do it again. You try to moan as quietly as you can, but when I stick my big dick in you, deeper than before, from behind, you can’t help but utter a loud moan. I thrust deep in and out, rocking the desk a little.

“Be a good girl and touch your clit for me,” I say. “I want you to come around my cock. I like it when a good little whore clenches around my cock.” Obediently, you begin to stroke your clit as I pound into you from behind. All the while, the cock has been pressing on my clit inside my harness. I can feel how damp my harness is getting. You turn me on so much.

Suddenly, you gasp loudly, tensing up, your moans get louder than ever with every stroke of my cock. Your back arches, your pussy tightens around my cock, you stop breathing, stop moaning and your little hand clenches on the edge of the desk as you come even harder than before. You go limp. I lift you up off of the desk and hold you close and kiss you.

I close the blinds and remove my pants, harness, and cock. You come back to life a little bit, murmuring how hard you came in my ear. You kiss me as I touch my wet, engorged clit. Then, curious, you dip a finger into my slick pussy. I groan. “I’m so wet for you,” I murmur. You push me back onto the desk so that I’m lying on top of it on my back, exposed. You climb on top of me and it doesn’t take long for me to come with your lips on my lips, your breasts against mine, and your fingers deep in my pussy, my own expert hand on my clit.

We smile at each other, wrapped in each other’s arms and without asking for my approval, you cancel all of my appointments and yours today, saying that we both got food poisoning. We sneak out the back of the office and spend the rest of the day in bed, reliving it all again.