The Ballard Of The Boy

I know you still want to have me and hold me,

But Jamie it just don't feel right.

I don't want what you have to give me anymore.

Because I have what I want now, and it isn't you.

I don't mean to be cruel and tight,

But Jamie it just don't feel right.

But I'm tired and it feels so different to be liked

By someone who wants you and doesn't need you,

Because you will always need me in primary

To ever wanting anything.

I know you want to fuck and get up close,

But I'm to shy, to lie to you, from finger tip to toe

My flesh, is not as easy as my lips.

I will always know you in some capacity

Because you are my boy and always my friend and close to me.

But this break is like picking itching stitching, with a knife.

I love you Jamie, but it just don't feel right.

Physicality

I whisper in his ear and play with his flesh, stroking him hard, arousing him, and inhaling wisps of control. I feel my heart beat strong as his eyes begin to roll. He hooks his fingers into me and holds me still.

I take him to a certain point then sit across his lap, rock and ride and work for him and contort my body until it gets relieved. I come for him in crashing waves, with noise and sweet contractions. We break and then I ask to pleasure him. He lets me and I do so and he coats my lips.

In between we go about tasks and jobs and day to day things. He fucks me against his kitchen counter and across his table. I gush onto the floor and twist and pulse in futility. We go upstairs and continue. We fuck in bed, and across furnishings, whichever way he wishes. I come for him in waves and backwash. He covers me in fluids. He eats me, he fills me with his hand and he hurts me. Today is a day of physicality and lust and release.

I am given to and taken from in equal measures, with paired desire. I am away form my head and following him, but my lips are split in smiles and I know I have enough today to prompt his pleasures, encourage his actions and make him want me.

He licks my cunt as I lay across his table. I kneel on the stones and taste him. He hits me with a belt on my hide, he smacks me across the face.

He is precious and he is using me, and I have him in my hand, and our brains are merely echoing when our bodies come together.

The Christmas Holiday - Pleasantries

We walk through an iced and deserted beach town. Out of favour, out of season. I look out to the sea, desolate and grey, boys floating on the silt. I sit on the cold stone barrage and he puts his arm around me and kisses my forehead. It looks like the edge of the world out there. For me, It probably is.

The Christmas Holiday - Post

In a passioned display of appreciation and relieved fear, he lays his head between my legs and pleasures me. I moan and hold the back of his neck, his pulse beats at my palm. He sinks his mouth into my soft labial flesh. He sucks my lips. He bites down hard.

I feel he’s going to rip me. I taste so fresh. I feel like meat. I think in grand, stimulated delusions ‘please sink your teeth into me and bite a chunk away’. Have a piece of me in your mouth, swallow up my precious flesh, let it boil and destroy in the pit of your stomach, and riddle through your gut. Let it become protein and energy and part of you. Make us indistinguishable.

The Christmas Holiday - Pre

He fills me with blank, screaming internal dread. I try so hard to please him, but I’ve failed. Or I feel like I failed. He tells me I haven’t.

I do not want to displease him. I do not want to lose my privileges and my power. I do not want to stop submitting. I do not want to stop.

Please I am trying. I promise and I love you.

Far Away

He tastes me and touches me and makes me come in a burst of liquid. He pulls my limp and pleasured body on to his lap and slides into me. I begin to ride against his flesh. We stay connecting for a long time. I watch his mind drift away.

I want to take him to places where the water is clear and the wind is warm. Where it fits, and only we exist and we don't think on anything.

Our sex moves from afternoons to evenings to mornings to nights. I spend a long time with him in my mouth, tasting his flesh, feeling his pulse and letting him fly. I spoon into his lap and slide him in another way. We lay on our sides and backs fucking.

We drift like frost in blankets of air. Cold heat swirling in waves. We blend together and become shared blood and bugs.

When Im over his lap and he's hitting me my knuckles crack in concentration. I sit on his hips again and ride out orgasms. He copies in shattering waves. We tenderly touch and breath and kiss and he tells me I'm good and my eyes roll in ecstasy.

I want to go to places where the sand is, and the pleasure is bleached. Where collisions are white and beautiful. Where we are hot and froth together.

The Found Thing - 2#

She twists soft silk rope around it's left foot, binding the function.

She mirrors on its right.

Thing's feet lie pale and bound, slimed green-blue veins appear like streams between the rivers of rope. Thing is on its back, mewling like an animal. She bends its left leg at the boney knee, splays a knotted foot to the side and loops it with the length spare, over the wooden bow of the bed.

She mirrors on its right.

With the loose slung over ends she ties each single rope around its pairing wrist. She tightens the shackling. It is hard to move. Thing can spread and close the limbs but not shift from its back.

An awkward and difficult position.

Thing is bent half crabbed, its pale ribs curving like its spine. Its brown soft nipples point to the ceiling. She strokes her fingers down these ribs, knocking bones like instruments. Thing's groin quivers pleasantly as it squirms like a leech on the cotton skin of the bed sheet. The mound of its pelvis protrudes violently, its muscles are sunk to its bones, it's heart is pulsing. It is ready to be his. It is ready to be good. It is ready to please and be tortured.

Heavy Petting

He slides his fingers into her swirl of hair. Cut new and neat, cropped tight like fresh grass. He walks her to the table, shined flat wood on four legs. He yanks down her clothes, metal clicks on metal, he pulls his zipper and pushes inside her.

He puts his paws on her hips, the small of her back, her flanks and her nape. He rustles up the skin. He's spends time and she's breathing hard. He asks her if she's had enough. With an elegant ripple she slides him out and twists on her toes to face him. She sits up on the table. Crooks her toes like claws around the edge of the wood and widens out her thighs.

She lays there legs bent like a bullfrog, glistening and damp like water rushes. He slides back into her and pushes until dank watery white gushes from her loins. The floor gets wet, like she's dropped a glass. She coats his groin and his thighs. Her face twists in feeble disgust and pleasure and concentration. They carry on like this for some time, her intermittent spurts slickening the deal.

She arches her back, she slides him from her and sits up. He goes to shoot some rum into a glass and she chases round his feet like a dog. She slumps to the ground, exposes him again and begins to suck on him. She looks up, doe eyed and wistful, fingers in her knickers, fumbling and sucking him wet. He watches her, palms resting on the counter top, ankles shackled together by his south gone denims.

She pleasures him 'till he shakes, she holds his thighs and feels the muscles contract under her palms. She coats her throat and face with his ghostly mess. Mewling sick and satisfied and lost. She snakes up to standing, holds him in her hand and lays her head at his chest. His heart beats, her small paws reach to his face and she kisses his mouth.

As it should be

I kneel across his leg, sucking his warm flesh into my mouth, nude and shaking in the cold.

Perfection

I writhed in the bed, discorded and full of over stimulated energy. I was uncomfortable and yearning. He lay over me watching me twist and I begged "Please hit me".

There was a pause and then a repeat.

He raised his arm. I suck breath in anticipation. I close my lids. He brought his hand down firmly against my cheek. I felt each line in his palm and print stick heat onto my skin. My eyes roll, my ear rang. My sir hit me across the face. This is the most perfect thing.

I asked for more, he littered my breasts and thighs with smacks. My face softened in a wash of ecstasy. He stroked my cheek. He looks at me, watching, mostly enjoying and he says "You look so beautiful".

A Stiff Drink

My only thirst is quenched by the fluid spalshed in the palm of his hand. He drips the watered cream into my mouth and I gag it down and choke it up and drip it down my jaw. It itches and its sweet and it tastes so fucking good.

Clamped Lips

He tells me to sit on the edge of the bed and snaps a single clamp onto each of my lips. The chains hang down between my thighs, knocking against my knees. He tells me to stand and I do, uncomfortably. He gives me a circle of chain in my right and left hand and tells me to lean forward.

I expose myself to him, clamped and sore and vulnerable and he tells me to stretch.

I start to pull at each chain slowly, arms stretching straight into a style of crucified pose. My neck lolls like a sagged rope. I whimper in pain and pull.

Once he is satisfied with my efforts here, he makes me stretch another space. I panic in my faith but resign myself to task, cranking the width of a metal spreader inside my awful hole.

I do these things for him because I want to. I do these things because I love to please him. I do these things for him because we're mine.

A Few Days, A Few Tricks

He fucks me against the kitchen table, he eats me across it.

Later he tells me he held my feet the way he did so he could watch my lips part and pout.

We lay in front of the fire and he strokes me.

He puts all his hands inside me and stretches me out how he likes me.

I suck him and pull him until he tastes my mouth.

The Older Dom - Pleasure

He placidly strokes my skin, makes me squirm and twitch. He makes the edge like gum, stretched out long in front of me, and I'm wet like the spit in his mouth.

As the pressure aches I ask for more. He fills me back and front with his strong hand and I want to hurt for him. I beg for torture. He clamps my nipples in steel. Chains the clovers together and drops the central coil of metal into my mouth. He fucks me forcefully with his fingers and watches me lick and drag tendrals of silver between my teeth so I can pull at the chain and hurt myself.

I orgasm, flush his licking lips with fluid, wet his chin, give him power.

We break, he talks. I squirm and jolt with every touch. My skin flutters with electric fantasies. I get to come again later, sitting on a toy. I buck and flood. Lost in my own head. Wet, weighted, full flesh. He cradles me up. Im shaking. He kisses my neck, he whispers in my ear. He tells me I'm his good girl.

A Long Weekend - Animals

He has spread my split holes open so I am aching and ready for him. He fills my front and tells me how beautiful I feel to him. He coaxes an orgasm from me and spreads his own liquid into sheathed latex. We breath, relax, I roll my hips into him. He takes my bottom next. Makes me go again in a bucking primal climax. He leans hard over me. I taste blood and I smell warm breath and fluid. The intensity is wretched and full. The air feels so tight that I could cut an escape hole, if I wanted to that is, which for now I never would.

A Long Weekend - Liquids

We fuck in his living room, his sweat drips onto my lips. I close my eyes and beg him to fill me up. I feel warmth as he spurts fluid onto my cream thighs. I feel fondness as he drops against my skin.

A Long Weekend - Showers

He bends my body, snapped in half. We stand in the shower, my feet struggle for grip. He pushes deftly inside me and fucks me with brutality as hot steaming water crashes down onto my back, drips through my rat black hair and smothers my breathing.

A Long Weekend - Fireworks

We stand in the cold park. You in your boots. Me in my flat freezing feet. We watch the colours shoot high into the sky and rain down again, with a fizzle of excitement. I wrap my arm around you and rest my woollen palm on your coated back. I lay my head against your chest and look up in awe. You hold me tightly as sulphur and smoke fills our cold noses.

The Going To, The Getting Back.

A dark haired girl sits on a train reading a Ballard, bookmarked with an empty flattened packet of Byrant matches.

The Boy - Endless

He sits and pets and runs his hands along me, perfectly, for what seems like an ever.

When he spreads my lips we're both surprised by all the molten liquor.

He bucks his fingers to complete me, and I'm awash with ecstasy.

The Older Dom - Adored and Used

For the first time he adores me. He lets my lay still and strokes my body. He runs his beautiful tips along my papery skin. He makes my back arch and my toes curl. I instinctively roll to my stomach, bend and open up to him.

We fuck classically and then I beg to be sodomised. He places a toy beneath me so that I can rub myself on its electronic vibrations. He spreads and stretches me. He slides inside me. We move together hard until we come. I coat the plastic and the cotton sheets. His dribbles from my insides.

The Older Dom - Three Uses

He wakes me up lays me down on my back and takes his pleasure from me. He fucks me needy and deeply soulless. front and back, as hard as work. An intense drag, leeching fluid from my cunt and coating himself to a climax.

Later I stand in the kitchen washing dishes, hands wet from the suds in the sink. He stands behind me, slides the thin cotton covering down over my bottom and drops it onto the floor. He pushes his fingers deftly inside me, spreads me open. I hear that hard metal click of him loosening his belt. Cloth, hook on button. The slide of the zipper. He yanks his jeans bellow his hips and slides himself forcefully inside me. We fuck standing. He pulls out and comes across my ass.

On and then more, he slides his finger inside me, more, a hand and then a fist. He fucks me 'till I'm splitting. I ooze and cum painfully hard. I feel stretched and used. He dips himself inside me to feel the loosened spread and is pleasured that I've tightened up again. I pull the weight of his body into my soft skin, I breath hard, I murmur and smell him.

The Found Thing - 1#

She perches on the end of his bed with her knee tucked to her chin, crouching like an animal in stealthy surveillance. He stands to her side his arm wrapped around her shoulders and the found thing lays out in front of them on the cloth. She leans forwards and strokes her hand across the arch of the foot of the thing. A single long slide, from ankle to toe, with the tip of her finger. The found thing giggles foolishly and she raises her eyes up to him to check his response. Nothing comes, so she continues to stroke the foot and coax her fingers up the leg.

The found thing lays half dressed, sallow skinned with pale, thin white hair. Bleached out and yellow. Things' clothes raised and twisted reveal taught fine ribs and wild blue veins, spread thighs and boney joints.

Her hands roam again up the found things legs, she leans forward to stroke higher and he tightens his grip on her shoulders. She sits back instantly and patiently and looks up to check him again. He looks at her and smiles and says "I know you're very eager but I think a kiss would be nice". She drops her head and closes her knees and feels a very silly little slut.

She crawls up the body of the found thing and softly kisses its lips. A tantalising lick of a soft puckered pout. She closes her eyes and warms to the act. She strokes her fingers along its cheek, through its stringy hair and down the line of its jaw to its soft, freckled decolletage. She reaches beneath fabric and pinches tender breast tissue in her small hands. The thing squirms underneath her and mewls softly. She covers its mouth and tells it to hush and looks back at him again. He moves and sits to the side of the found thing. Surveys it like a piece of drift wood, bleached, washed up and sandy.

She continues to stroke and pinch its delicate flesh and move her mouth to ribs then a stomach, then pelvis, then split. He grabs her by her dog scruff hair and yanks her face up to his. "Do you think you deserve to taste?" He asks and kisses her lips. She looks deep into the blue plane, considering. "No" is the response "But may I?" sets a plea. He lets go of her and she leans down towards the found thing's thighs and inspects her delicacy.

She breaths in a scent of sourness and must and sweat and stretches her tongue tentatively across quivering lips. She kisses soft and begins to explore an expanse of beautiful pink flesh. The found thing gasps and squirms and he puts his hand to its neck and he says it must not talk unless it is spoken to.

Her darting tongue begins to spread the tender meat apart and reach the aching core. A molten trickle of creamed fluid slips into taste and she laps at it softly. She runs the hard flat of her tongue up to its exquisite point of pleasure and illation and begins to kiss and suck and nuzzle gently with her nose and chin. She hums a gentle sigh into the found thing and the found thing reciprocates with squirms and squeaks like vermin. He closes his focus on its face and says "In a moment you can pick a number. Do you understand?" Its bulging wet pupils open with a flutter and it looks at him in confusion. "Must I repeat myself?".

He raises from his bed and stands behind her legs. She is nose deep is soft silks and wet lipped with her own saliva. He pushes his fingers deftly into her warm damp cunt, leans and exhales deeply into the back of her neck. She breaths hard and is thankful and his palm smacks down on her bottom. She flinches but does not stop. He hits her again and further. Short sharp bare handed slaps in a wrist twist of successions. Her legs begin to shake a little and her body is nudged closer to the found thing's lumps with every waiting hit. She begins to exhale murmurs of pain as her bottom reddens. She pushes herself backwards into his hands and he calls her a good girl. He raises her by the chin from between the found thing's bones then he looks into its bubbling fearful eyes. "You can pick a number"

She closes her eyes and the swallowing muscle rolls down her bare throat. She is exposed and nude. He remains dressed, the thing is still in its rags and flourishes. He strokes his beautiful hands down her chest and stops to twist erect flesh. He rests his palm on her stomach and holds her there in status. "Pick a number"

The small sap of a voice trills from its thin lips "Six? Seven?".

"Pick a number"

"Six".

"Count"

He bends her back down towards the found thing and rests the tip of her nose of the mound of its hair covered groin. He hits her hard. She yelps and is pushed forward. Her nose brushes from nub to navel. The thing scrambles and squirms and gasps. He gently pulls her back by her hips and hits her forcefully again. The thing tries to move away but is trapped at the knee by the pincer of her kneeling legs.

"Count for her" he says in mild annoyance.

"One"

She is in too much pain to correct the runt's poor mathematics and swallows another four hits until she reaches her sixth. She knows a seventh will be dealt for the found thing's mistake. She raises her head, looks into its tepid watery eyes and loathes it. Her cunt sops, her tears stream and her bottom and thighs are welted and bruised. The final hit drives her nose to the bottom of its ribs and she wails in agony. He delves his fingers back between her thighs and lifts her soft body so her back can rest against his chest. Her pulse beats hard and his fingers stroke her wetness and excite her. They kiss again. He kisses her. She is breathless and swaying. "Finish it now". She leans back down and orally pleasures the found thing until its stagnant fear is replaced with mousey squeaks and little moans and a spurt of climax. She scoops a clump from its hole and rubs the fluid into its grinning gums. She thrusts her fingers down the found thing's throat and makes it choke. She yanks back her hand covered in juice and saliva and offers it to him to taste. He sucks her fingers softly, runs his tongue along his teeth and spits the gift back out onto the found thing's chest.

She drops her head and licks it up.

The Older Dom - Bottoms Up.

I spoon your lap and rotate my hips so my bottom pushes into your groin. I can feel how hard you are as you start to push and open me up. I give myself to you like this as I know its what you want.

You use your strength to roll us slowly so Im on my knees and you begin to thrust hard. I yelp in pain and satisfaction. I play with myself until I drip. I beg you to fuck me so you dress yourself up and push cleanly into my cunt.

I come then in a hard aching sigh. You fill me and let me pulse until Im sedate, move me onto my back and push yourself back into my bottom. I wince and open up for you and you smirk as you watch my face express a little fear and a fair, loving compliance.

The Older Dom - Whatever Best Suits

You appear at my house demure and adult in your suit. A half hour away from a morning of meetings. I take off my clothes so I am naked and beneath you. You let me taste you and I make you spurt down the back of my throat in ten minutes.

Shower time

I stand in the shower and the water trickles down my face and slicks my hair into a combed back wedge of deepest black. The liquid sits and dribbles down my breasts, and hits the porcelain in a welling pool. The clarity swirls down into the pipes and the sewers. I arch my foot into a tip toe point, lift it to the side of the bath and slide my slick fingers between my legs. I think of him, how he has done this to me before and how I yearn for his touch again.

A fluttering breath.

The steam rises.

The heat rests heavy on my chest.

The air comes short.

In the water there is tranquility and peace, there is colour and light. There are fish and worms and creatures in its depths. There is a darkness. I frantically stroke and swim to reach the drop off. A long way down to a twisting molten core. Hot heat, wet water, broken drifting wood. A warm gasp, a bubbling geyser a spurt of dripping froth.

Jake

Another firm hard physical fuck. I catch an orgasm happily. I finish you off in boredom.

I miss my sir.

The Older Dom- Our sort of taboo?

He enters between my legs and his flesh slides into me, skin on skin, wet hot heat, deliciously intimate, our sort of taboo. We simultaneously close our eyes and he shudders and I cry out. It feels beyond beautiful, perfectly fitting, him inside me, deep and unprotected, with his piercing rubbing the rough skin of my insides.

We are both in our own powerful worlds. My mind spins as his thrusts blend into an endless rhythm or pleasure and insistence. I am so tight and so wet and he feels so full inside me. My mind coaxes out words and promises, I whisper to him and tell him that my body is his as the fleshy meat of my cunt closes around him in an orgasm. I lose myself in immense relief. I call at him, "Please. You. God, your skin. Oh, this feels so good".

The Older Dom - Hands

He spanks my bottom and my quivering front with the palm of his hand. It is powerful and primal and raw. The pain between my legs blends into a burn and a dull ache. I am so far away that I feel like I'll never get back. I watch his pupils swirl in a haze of control and power. He smacks me with his hands again, dips his fingers into my cunt and I tell him that I love him.

The Older Dom - Bath Time

We run a bath with bubbles and liquid. I get in and slide under the suds. He strokes the steaming water over my pinking bottom with his palm. We talk and drink wine in the softly lit space. He gets in the bath with me and we wrap our legs together. I rest my foot on the tile wall and he begins to touch me. His fingers stroke my soft parting lips and dip between them. Im as wet and hot as the water around us. He plays with me until I'm pulsing and parted and the bubbles settle into a soft foam.

To be going on with

To be going on with I think I'll just continue writing in snippets. Its getting to the point that I cant remember the numerous events in great detail, with this one.

The Older Dom - The Kitchen Table

I perch on the warm hard edge. He kicks back the chair and stands between my legs. We kiss. He pushes my shoulders back with force and I rest on my elbows. He slides the slip of modest cotton down over my thighs and drops it to the floor. He pushes up my dress and he says to me sternly... "Lay down". I lay back on the wood and look at the ceiling. He sits on the leather of the moved chair and spreads my thighs. He smirks as I gasp and he eats me on his kitchen table.

The Older Dom - Saturday Night

We share another evening of sex and intimacy and fun and chat. He sits at his kitchen table and he watches me and says "The only thing that stops me taking you as soon as you arrive is that once the sex starts the talk stops". We fuck and he relaxes and the weeks drama in both oru lives is leaked away. His face has softens. I cheer him up. I kiss his forehead. I hold him. I lay between his legs and dotingly suck, and lick out release.

Alone and Learning

I choose a toy which sits twice between my thighs, penetrating me double. A probe of cold glass sliding into me, front and back, where I am split, broke open and hurting.

I feel the object push in and think of how much it would please him to know I was stimulating my bottom for his pleasure and my own.

I fuck myself hard and rub with my fingers. I think about him as I give myself a crashing draw of white pleasure. I whisper in my lungs "He is my sir. This is what he wants".

I leave myself inserted and in pain as I write this.

Mr. Tall

I sit across his lap in the front seat of his car and I fuck him until he comes. He thrusts his fingers into me and I even out and realign. The rain shatters again the windows and the radio plays. Its dark and nowhere.

The Older Dom - The Good and The Bad

Now she has devoted herself to him his words mean so much. Praise makes her heart soar and criticism shatters like a blow to the head.

Her pushes his fingers into her bottom and she struggles and wants not to be sodomised. He says “Why wont you let me?”. She tells him its because she does not want to. He says “This isn’t about what you want. You’re disappointing me”. She winces like she has been stabbed in the neck, the knife twisted and pulled out to drain the life, like killing a roe. She is strung up and sorry.

She remains on her knees and he slides his cock into her sore and aching front instead. He leans over her and breaths into her ear, fucking her forcefully. “You have a beautiful body that you give to me. You are mine and I know you’re trying very hard. You're a very good girl”

The Older Dom - The Holiday - Small Hour Small Talk

He talked to her about his feelings are his divorce. His regret and his guilt. She lay very still and close to him and she stroked his cheek. She said “Its OK George, you’re a good boy. You don't need to talk anymore”. He held her close and he thanked her.

The Older Dom - The Holiday - Beauty and Light

She lets him hit her and fuck her and own her. He spent hours between her legs. Her shaven mound glowing with his saliva. He told her to prize her lips apart and he licked her forcefully.

He said, "This is my cunt to play with, this is my flesh to touch, this is my skin, this is my blood and you are mine. What am I to you?”.

She replied. “You’re everything”

The Older Dom - The Holiday - Songs Of Praise

They lay curled together on the sofa, she had unzipped his jeans and was playing with him. She stroked his throbbing cock as her eyes glided to the television. She watched mouths open in hymns over the Sunday sermon, singing the praises of Jesus and heaven. She smirked and look at his strained expression. “My hand is as close to your cock now, as these people are to God”

The Older Dom - The Holiday - The Complete Act

The complete act of humiliation rests on her conscience like a blip on the monitor. He had made her kneel in his bath tub and given her an enema. “You’ll be a good clean girl” he had purred as he filled her with water. She cried in silence and shook with determination and loathing and compliance. He had dried her and taken her to bed, stretched her arse with his hand and a toy and made her push herself beyond. He had asked her to take more and more and she had done it willingly. He had fucked her arse and lost himself in his space. She couldn't straighten out and asked if he would hit her and he beckoned her across his lap and spanked her. She moaned breathless and in ecstasy as she came back from the blip with a smart of red pleasure. He had let her come with a fist in her cunt, where she felt hurt and alive.

The Older Dom - The Holiday - All Is All

Their power play is brain changing and their straight sex is soft and intense and fueled with loving compliance and nurturing warmth. She has spent endless days with him, cooking good food, drinking good wine, smoking cigarettes, kicking rum and talking about everything. Their soundtrack wafts with Tom Waits and stoner rock. They lay close and entwined, sex broken with sleep and seductive chat. She says "You know when you feel like you’ve known someone forever. I mean this in a non creepy way?” He says “We do click very well” and he runs his hand from the soft pale skin of her breasts to her warm and parted thighs.

No Tall Orders

We have some beautifully simple sex and I come on my knees and emit a fluid. You fill me up pleasingly and fuck me hard. I lick you cock until we're breathless. We say goodnight. I close the door.

The Older Dom - A Softer Touch

He runs his firm long fingered hands from the curve of her hip to the dip in her waist. Up over the soft cotton of her dress to her breasts, he cups them and pinches her gently as she stands and makes earl grey tea and does the dishes.

They had been in bed together for hours, enjoying pleasurable intimacy and much needed sleep.

She had been desperate to taste him and he let her as she knelt on the floor. He had called enough and told her he was going to fuck her and he did in varied positions until he had smeared her insides with tension and swollen warmth. He had laid her across his lap and stretched her holes with his fingers and explored her like a study. She had begged to lick him to his orgasm and he had let her.

He left to smoke a cigarette and she lay on the bed, stroking her cunt and smiling softly, lost in curls of warmth and pleasure. He laughed when he saw her and complimented her on what a pretty sight she was. He drove his fingers inside her with force and she rubbed and cooed until she came painfully and covered them both in a gush of effluence. He fucked her again in her puddle of sedate mess as she rocked breathless beneath him.

When she opened her soft eyes the world was awash, she looked at him and smiled, and looked at the ceiling, glassy and away and alive.

They played more and then they slept and in the morning he took her again, on her knees. They reached their goal simultaneously, in synchronicity, in wet wanting fluidity. They spent the rest of their day drinking the mentioned tea, and curled up together on his sofa.

Old Vintage White

We have cocktails and dinner in a kitschy little dive. We went back to mine and lay spooned and intwined on the bed. We didn't talk too much about fucking but when we came together it felt good. He filled and pushed me with drenched enthusiasm. On my knees and on my back I came for him and I looked at him and touched him and thought about how rough his cheek felt against my hand and how much I was pleasing him just by enjoying the moment.

There were nail marks and small bites and deep hard thrusts but there was also a tenderness and warmth. A feeling of ease cocooned us in the soft white room.

The Older Dom - Feelings

When I reach my space I am almost completely subservient to him and my urges.

He has pushed me harder than those before him.

The intensity is vast and full and wet. Pleasure feels like heaven and denial hurts like hell.

The pain makes me want to run as adrenaline swarms into suffering. All the loathing I could have ever felt for myself is bled out here. Dry spit, and fear rest limp in my throat. I cover my ears to stop the ringing.

I close my eyes and think of his soft sharp voice mocking me and indulging us both.

In the darkness, it feels like life, like God and dying. With my face in the deep, my hands to the floor, the earth begins to turn.

I tremble. There is frailty. Power and abuse charms my compliance, I curl my body to his will and take the stick. The skin splits, and here I am simultaneously wounded and healed

Sweetly suffering does strange things to the brain sometimes.

You forget all you want to remember and you remember what you want to forget.

A complete feeling of exacerbation hit me later as I hid in his arms. a futile dislike for my grim actions. The flick of a moral or social silver tongue? Maybe just some plain release.

I try to be as good as I can be, though I have not been pushed this hard before. You drag me to market, like a stubborn sow, noose round the neck, ring in the nose. Sometimes I walk, sometimes I drag my feet but I promise I am trying. I will get better, I will get there.

The Older Dom - Acts

He makes me stand in front of him and pulls my dress up to the top of my thighs. He runs his fingers between my legs. He tells me to go upstairs and he undresses me. He plays with my body and eats me. He says that my cunt tastes beautiful to him. He stretches and provokes me. He lets me taste him, which I do with enthusiasm. We fuck.

Later he tests my limits. He asks me to lay across his lap and I do so. He spanks me, hard open hits. He tells me to kneel at the end of his bed and spanks me again with his hand and a cane. I hurt and struggle, scramble away from him. He tells me to get back to my position. "How many can you take?" I don't know. He settles on three and makes me count each hit aloud.

He pulls me up by my hair and kisses me softly. He tells me I've done well and allows me to suck him. I do so, then I spit on him. He lifts me from his flesh by the neck and curses into my ear. How dare I. He smacks me again, quick hits in succession and then he fucks me.

While on my back he clamps my nipples, makes my legs shake and my feelings shatter as I come against him, he lets me try again. I make him orgasm with my mouth in placid gentle compliance.

Later I let him stimulate my bottom and cunt again with his cock. Against my better will and judgement, with no thought to pleasure for myself I completely give in. His second orgasm soothes me in cathartic white glow. The release ebbs out like a leaking wound. It provokes a lot of feeling.

The Older Dom - Dinner

I snap my teeth against the sugar top of dessert and smell burning in the back of my throat. I watch your lips speak and your hand raise a cigarette to them. Fear bubbles like blood under the skin...

The Older Dom

We talk a lot and you interest me, which is rare. We have had coffee and you have invited me over for dinner. I will update shortly.

Jake

I continue to let you fuck me. It is simply a booty call and me chasing orgasms.

Mr. Tall

You are very simple but good fun. I suck your dick and you wipe your cum off my lips. "Very good". I beam like that cat. Your hands clasp tightly around my throat and you kiss me forcefully. You lick your fingers and slide them between my legs.

The Blagger

I drink your semi decent white wine and perch at your breakfast bar. Later I'm sucking your cock. You say "God, kid, that was good".

You have money and you're generous and fun. You may be a good investment.

On The Old Dog And Bone

We talk about sex, about his fears and my desires, I give him snippets of what I've liked, what I wish he'd do to me. He seizes control and opportunity into his hands, and then he tells me to touch myself.

I have him on the phone, all ears, pressed against my own, listening to me breath as I exhale into the receiver. I make myself race for him, in rubbing frantic circles. I whisper. "Let me come for you, tell me I can, please". He leads an effective pause and then he says that I can.

I settle up. I say to him, this is how it feels to have control over me.

This is what its like to have the skip of my pulse in your poised conscience, denial and indulgence tipped on your tongue. This is how it feels to weave my brain in your palms and knit out a begging plead. A humiliation... a moment of making, where I give myself to you and you let me go. It tastes like sweet spit and silver words. It sounds so breathless and good. This is a gift. This is power.

Happy Blog-day!

I just realised I missed my own blog-day. *blows a whistle*

My Good Boy

Grinding against his lap on the living room sofa she asks if they can go to bed. She bends over his lap and he spanks her bottom and then he lets her go to their room. She is sopping, so very wet and so ready. He pulls her body to the edge of the bed, kneels on the floor and licks her. He pulls her legs so she's down on the floor herself then, and he fucks her from behind. She comes, they pause for breath and effect. They fuck on the floor again and then clamber back onto the bed, he makes her orgasm again on her back, he makes her body move with the ferocity of his thrusts and then he pulls out.

He tells her to kneel in front of him and she does as she's told, he grabs at her flesh, she is allowed to suck his cock as he ejaculates into her mouth. She spits it all back out at him and beams.

For Those Who Like To Please

Four boned fingers reach up and claw themselves around a pole of metal, a body runs downwards, toes crunched like snapped glass. She's self stretched like she's on a rack, a complete and torturous pleasure. Her soft delicate lashes flutter as her eyes pupils slide around to the top of her head, her cheeks flush as they fill with good heat. Her lips part. He causes this.

Achingly wet, the humours flow around the body, the blood in her veins pumps through her heart which pushes her breasts to a timed quiver. The spit in her mouth rests dry in her teeth and sweet fluid drips from her thighs onto his waiting lips and hands. She squirms and begs and pleads and swears and this is what he causes.

Her thighs are open wide, skin hinged on the bone, like a clacking jaw. She breaths hard and a moan slips from her lips. Its a soft and beautiful sound, guttural and earthy. She is human and animal in equal parts. She is fleshy meat, primal and desperate to come. She’s reaching for the cause.

He gives her all the feeling that she takes from the moment, he causes her to twitch. To run her hands through his hair, to stretch, shudder, slip and slide. To thrust at him and pull back. To be from her own control. When the earth moves away and the fire burns from the ground and smoulders in the pit of her stomach. When her eyes close into ether and there is a separation. He is there to open the door and guide her through the pleasure and he causes this.

Diplomacy

Throughout my sexual career I have never been in the business of making people feel bad about themselves. Sex is pleasure, it should indulge the body and the ego in equal parts.

When someone one is awful in bed does it do to berate them? I think if there is a willingness to learn there should be given time to teach. Sometimes people want to give you something good, but they are scared that they won't or don't know how.

You could be cruel and put someone down as a 'bad shag', or you could see them as a work in progress. They can still learn to lace their fingers over you and slide them in to you and coax a pleasure even if its not shattering.

Is the glass half full or half empty? Either way its wet.

So You Do Something With Electrical Submarines?

So quiet and shy with your sweet brummie twang. You bought me a house warming gift which was overwhelmingly kind and unnecessary and unexpected, but lovely, thank you. You ask if we can go to bed. I exit to use the bathroom and when I return you have taken off all your clothes.

I laugh openly "Did you just take all your clothes off and get in my bed?" You look at me with eager innocence... "Yes?"

I make you come with my mouth, then you go down on me. When you're hard again we fuck for a long time. Your sweat drips onto my back and I orgasm on all fours. You're a sweet thing, you leave me in the morning with a kiss on the forehead.

Moments

She does have those moments. Those moments when you can't help but. Those fuck yourself silly moments. Where its toys and noise and a total wipe out. They don't come so often now, but when they do come everyone comes.

The Older Man - A Day Away

We roam London chatting and laughing. Pressed like sardines on the tube, you sitting and me standing, my leg slid between your open thighs. We eat food and bat stories and smile, safe in the knowledge that its easy and it works. We go to bed together and sleep then fuck and you fill me up like you always do and its bliss. You are not in anyway perfect, but you're a perfectly good friend. There is a fondness and I'm glad you're around.

Movement and Change

A few weeks ago I made the choice to move out of the flat I lived in with The Boy.

I have never known if my behaviour is caused by a lack of love. Surely not because I do love him and he means to me, but does he just mean that I don't get lonely? People say that your relationship is supposed to be filled with impassioned fits of undeniable submission to emotion, but people say a lot of things.

I have been bad for a long time now, but I don't want to settle down. I don't like to call it cheating, because we are both well aware of the rules of the game. I just feel it may be me who chooses to play more regularly, or chooses to play at all. Though this could be my ego talking, rather than my mouth.

It just didn't feel good to come home to him anymore and he means enough that I didn't want that to be the over riding emotion. I wanted to try to separate to see if we can make each other happy when the pressure of having to do so is taken away.

I'm not going to lie and say the thought process wasn't prompted by someone else, but it isn't about anyone else it's about me and my freedom and my choices. I just hope I've made the right choice.

Jamie I do love you and I'm sorry for who I am and how I am and what I insist upon. Know that you mean more to me than I would ever tell you, or ever want to admit to myself, out of a weak fear... or fear of looking weak.

Jake

We've fucked twice now and it's quite enjoyable though you don't mean enough for me to tell a story about you.

The Boy - Two Days of Good Sex

When we kiss it still makes me squirm. You slide your fingers all over my aching wetness, spreading me apart and turning me on. You slide yourself into, usually I'm on my knees for you, because thats how we like it best. Its perfectly synchronised and satisfying. I come hard every time. You make my kneel in front of you and run my fingers through the results.

The Older Man - Lunch

You're always a reliably satisfying lay and we always have a lovely time once the dust settles, pranking around and chatting over lunch.

I always leave you feeling warm and good about myself, because I know you like me and would like me even if I wasn't fucking you. There are not many men in my life that I can say that about.

The Boy - A letter

He writes me a letter full of the things some girl would want to hear.

I'm not sure.

Chest Pains

When you are often the one who seems to break hearts, to have your heart broken is the most dreadful and exquisite pain.

The feeling of loss has not ebbed away yet. It rests with an empty thud, like knocking at an old door. I desperately wish I could have you back, in all your wet fear and anger and with all your baggage. I want you to put your cases on the porch and say "Let me in".

They say time heals, I'm not sure who they are, and maybe they're just saying it to sell watches. It would be nice to see how long it'll be before the hand moves from two, back to one. Right now it's ticking and it hurts.

Melancholy is a brooding emotion. It sits on your hearts tuffet like a sour child, head to the floor, lip split in a pout. The release comes from crying, and sleeping, and for those particularly indulgent, crying yourself to sleep.

Now that you are gone, I miss you terribly. I miss being held by you, they way or lips touched and the way we felt together. But we are now the opposite of two...

Just a lonely me and a lonely you.

x

Indie Boy - Love Lost.

He rang me in work and said "I need to see you tomorrow and I need to talk".

I said "Is it good news or bad news?"

He said that it was bad.

We talked but I said I couldn't have this conversation on the phone.

"I'll see you tomorrow".

He says he cannot see me anymore because his feelings for me are too intense. Its not love but it means a lot. I said he meant some to me too. He talked at length about all the fear and sadness burning up inside him. I don't know what it is to not take risks and I said "Life can't be lived if you don't try living".

But he is too scared. He is so scared. He sat and cried. He made me cry. I said I didn't want it to end. He said I was only thinking of myself and the rage struck me. If I was only thinking of myself I would have split you in half today talked you into the dark and made you feel like shit. I've been good and I've listened and tried and accepted. He started to cry again and told me he was sorry.

I opened myself up to him, I thought about throwing away five long years for him. I'm so glad my guilt held me back from hurting the boy. I've been spat out.

I asked him to kiss me. "I want to remember how it feels before you go". We kissed and I breathed in his smell and I like him so much.

I said "Please. I understand this is it. I wont phone or text you and you wont text or phone me but don't delete me, and in a few months or years down the line, when you sort your head out, give me a text and if I'm not doing anyone better, then I'll do you". He smiled and laughed.

Im about the best thing that could have happened to you.

He picked up his things and left, we hugged at the door and kissed again.

"Take care of yourself"

I smiled. I wont.

The DJ

Sometimes sex is too average to write about.

The Older Man - The Big Sweet Easy

When we've had a few beers

It tends to lubricate the conversation

And the intent

You fit into me so perfectly

and I spill over numerously

Like a knocked glass

Its familiar

Its a tonic

It goes down smoothly

and it soothes me,

the big sweet easy

The Radiologist

He compliments me wildly, I say "calm down" and shift awkwardly in my seat, holding back blushes.

His cock tasted delicious in my mouth later and it also felt good when I sat on his lap, then get on my knees.

Apparently we're going out for Argentinian steaks on Thursday?

The Well Practised Mister

They talk and she squirms, he strokes her face and clamps his hand around her neck. He asks her to remember all the things they'd spoke about. All the things he was going to do to her. She couldn't remember, so the punishment began.

He says he'd like to see her kneel, she asks where and he tells her to kneel on the hard wooden floor. She licks his flesh and then swallows him down. She works hard until she makes him ejaculate and clean the sin from her mouth.

Later her wrists are wrapped tightly in thick white rope. He loops her to the wooden bed, arms spread wide like the crucifixion. She is bound and unable to move more than squirm. He laps at her nipples and sinks his back teeth into them hard. She yelps and is in incredible pain. He riddles her pale flesh with bites, she cries out and gets wet. He also torments her with spanks. Hard, flat palms on bubbling skin.

He takes his teeth to her thighs and continues to make her suffer. Tonight she gets to be his toy, because that's what he wants. She struggles and refuses to answer his questions. He gets up and leaves, returns with ice. He places it in her hand, and she closes her palm tightly and tries to melt it, but fails. He takes it from her and begins to run it over her flesh. She's warm and it melts effortlessly. He traps it in his mouth and begins to lick her cunt. She purrs and squirms and squeaks. He uses it to lick her chest too and she moans. He says to her that he must have really hurt her earlier. She nods and a little salt water drips from her eyes. She is so sensitive and so wet and then he carries on licking her and fucking her with his fingers untill she orgasms.

She begs to be untied and they fuck after that. Her on her knees, and its effortless. He pulls her up by her hair and lets her make herself come, again.

When its over she is a ball of shakes and shivers. He strokes her hair. She curls up and sleeps soundly.

The Stranger

"You should stop talking like that"

"You asked"

We sat on the steps smoking.

"Do you want a line?"

"Sure"

We went to the toilets. He pushed my back to the door and we kissed hungrily.

"Don't feel guilty"

"I dont"

"You will"

I slide to my knees and suck him until he spurts into my mouth.

"That was good"

He asks me to expose myself. I wiggle my tight black skirt up over my hips. He turns me around and eats me.

The Country Boy

I make you come in seconds. You spurt into my mouth and I spit it out. We chat for a little while about sex and life and oddities. You're so nervous, its endearing.

When you go down on me, you make me so wet, I ooze and leak fluid. You fuck my flesh with your fingers and you suck me and lick me. You spit on me and spread me open, play with my legs, bending them around and you get excited. Its a pleasure to see you so excited. You're enthusiasm makes up for any pleasant confidences.

You are a little country boy, but you do give great head.

Indie Boy - Feelings

Is it wrong that I cant stop thinking about you and the things you said to me?

When we have to stop fucking because you shack up with someone not as good, I'll be very sad, because I want to fuck you and more than that, I think I just like you.

Im not sure what Im supposed to do anymore. The sensible thing would be to cut it of, before it gets worse. But I have enough self restraint not to get in too deep, I hope... and I don't want it to end, because I want it too much

I like you when you're fucking me. I like you when we're out driving. When we're just sitting watching television. When I nestle into you and you stroke my hair and I can breath in the smell of your clothes. When we kiss it feels perfect. I like watching you pad around my living room in just your jeans, trying to tidy up your bird-nest hair. Watching the muscles and bones move in your back. Hoping that every time you choose to pack up and leave, you'd stay a little longer and kiss me at the door.

I told you too last time. I said 'Kiss me' and you did, softly and gladly.

I fear I may be falling for another man.

The Man's Man.

While we were sitting in the living room having a cigarette you told me you'd always wanted to be very dominant but just not found a person that wants to be at the receiving end. I said I would, gladly, you look like you could mess me up a little.

Later in bed you tell me to take my dress off, so I do and you watch me. You turn me around and take of my bra. You push the back of my neck down into the bed so Im bent there, face in the cotton, feet on the floor. You smack my bottom and run your fingers and cock against my underwear. I squirm miserably and you hit me harder.

You tell me that I'm not going to get to feel your cock inside me unless I make myself come with my fingers first. I rub desperately and contemplate faking it. You watch me touch and rub yourself against my body, smacking your erection into my breasts and tapping it against my lips. I lap at it beautifully.

You berate me for not making myself come for you like a good girl. You're very tall and quite broad and muscular and smothered in a self done tattoo of barbed wire. You look like you could hurt me.

I wish you would.

Indie Boy - Drunk Sex

I can taste the aftershave on your neck as I run my tongue along it. That metallic tang on fragrant poison. We're both a little drunk.

We chat and reveal some things, that we both, do like what we do, and who we do. I say. I like you. You tell me you think I'm sexy and quirky and all the things girls want to hear.

When we fuck its fluid and slow and fast, heavy and hard in multiple slices. You fill all my holes in various manners, with varied intentions. Makeup is smeared down my face and my hair looks like a crows nest. I ride you and you crease your brows. You fuck me and I patter out pained yelps.

You make me bleed viciously. We leave marks and stains and sour bodily extracts drip from my cunt.

The Boy - Hurting

He spread my rear open with a dildo, and forced his fingers into my front. I rubbed myself frantically and I came incredibly hard. He said "That sounded good" and I said "You are good".

The Older Man - Tactics

I suck you and then you lick me and you fuck me hard until I come.

You tell me to kneel on the floor and you jerk yourself. I try to lick you and kiss you and you say, "Don't. I just want to look at your face". Then you cover it in white.

I say to you, "You're maybe not the best fuck in the world tactically, but its always very satisfying".

The Little Welshman

You pushed my head down hard and choked me.

You rubbed and smacked my sopping hole and made me gush all over your bed sheets.

You prized my thighs open, trapped my wrists and legs with yours and played with me.

You were such a rough and naughty little fuck.

The Runner

The only people that roam the street at 5:05am, are seagulls. In this city they swarm, cluster in the air like white planes, then swoop to the ground and land with a dull thud. They terrorize the other smaller birds, and they strut around flexing, at the line of the pavement, like athletes at the beginning of a race.

I had rang him earlier and asked, "drink?" and he'd said alright so we'd gone for one. We bar hopped for a little while and chatted, he was a little awkward and I felt like my chat over compensated and I wasn't sure what was happening. But he relaxed, we smiled, we bantered, He said to me "I like your hair" and I said "Thanks...er...I like your face!". He laughed and looked embarrassed by my blatant, friendly, honesty. He is a bit of an uncrackable nut. A professional runner and a part time lecturer, but he doesn't give much away. He told me he was the 4th fastest runner in Europe. I was amazed.

The bar closed, he said, "What next?" and I said "What are my options?" and we ended up at his. We lay on the bed chatting for a while, knee to knee, legs twisted up. My patience waned and I said "Would you like me to kiss you?" and he said "I was getting round to it!".

So we kissed. I went down on him and watched his long lithe body stretch out onto his bed, I felt the heat and energy bubble beneath his skin and I made him spurt into my mouth. He curled up when he came, and slide his fingers into my hair, then stretched back out flat. His skin tight over his bones. He said, "That was good. Do you like doing that?". I said "I wouldn't do it if I didn't like it". He reciprocated my kindness by thrusting his fingers deeply inside me and rubbing me forcefully. We fucked briefly. Then he leant me a book, Kafka's 'The Trial', and I left and walked home.

Indie Boy - Stretched

There's so little pretense with you now, we both know exactly what we like.

We talk placidly about our plans for the evening and I'm watching you and thinking,

When can I start. Where can I start.

You come over to sit by me, I nestle in and lick your neck, kissing it softly, I feel you sigh, I watch your clenched fingers uncurl and I know you'll begin to stiffen. I sit close, legs bent, wrapped around your lap. Thighs open and dripping. You push your fingers into me, thrust and twist, bring them up to our lips, intertwine them in our gentle kisses, and push them down my throat for me to suck.

In the bedroom you go down on me, smacking me and pushing my lips apart. I let you pleasure me and then I do the same to you. You twist me onto my knees then we fuck and you come and Im close but I'll wait.

We spend the next few hours drinking a beer, smoking a little, chatting. You open yourself up, about past relationships and family and I just listen because it's easier. You say you feel you hold a lot back and you think I'm probably very similar. I hesitate to agree nor disagree.

Time ticks on and my brain reverts to fucking. This week we have been speaking about the things you'd like to do to me next, the anticipation is layered thick. You want to spread me open, fill which ever hole you wish and feel me penetrated double. I agree to the fantasy. I want it.

You slide your fingers inside me again and I stroke your hard firm flesh. I get on my knees and suck you for a long time, play and stroke and pleasure and then I admit I just want to fuck. You drive yourself into. An aching thud, pleasuring me endlessly and then you pull away and slide your cock lower and push lower. I roll over, get on my knees for you and curl my back like an animal. We slather me in lubricant and you begin the slow hard drive of thrusting yourself into somewhere dark and vile. The pain sears through my body and I utter obscenities. You ask if I'm OK with genuine unexpected passion and I coldly put that, I'd tell you if I wasn't. Slowly you urge and edge and fill me up and then you're fucking my arse and it hurts and feels great.

We slide the cold glass of a dildo into my other hole and the pleasure is searing and encompassing. I stroke myself until I orgasm so hard it hurts. You're close, but you haven't. I apologise and grovel, you simply turn me round, swaps condoms and plunge yourself back into my wet aching front. I few deep thrusts before you pull out and jerk your cum all over my face, onto my parted lips and dark hair.

The night is so balmy and warm, Im stretched out and used and shaking and smiling out of the side of my mouth. Next time I want more.

Indie Boy - Serviced By Your Pet

I nipped the skin on his thighs between my teeth, licked the marks, moving higher. I took my top off, leaned down towards him, my skirted bottom in the air, head down, like a cat pawing the ground. I stroke the tight skin across his pelvic bones, licked his stomach, held his thighs firmly and began to kiss the soft mounds beneath his cock. His yearning was palpable, he sighed and squirmed, reaching his hands towards my breasts and squeezing them in his palms.

I run my tongue so slowly from the base to the tip.

I feel him stiffen more. It seems wrong to describe it as beautiful but its so firm and smooth and it tastes so delicious, it fills me and hurts me and pleasures me. I worship at its church, it is my alter and I adore it. I take him in to my mouth. I spit on him and drool on him, running the skin between my palm, taking the tip into my mouth and sucking. We are both so gentle at first, His moans are appreciative, but soon as it builds he wants more. Fingers thread into my scruffy dog hair and he pushes me down. I choke on him and moan and gag. The kohl on my eyes begins to bleed down my face as I suck and play. I gently run him against my teeth, I kiss him and slobber on him. Pushing him to where he wants to go. He holds me buy the neck, guides my head, makes me choke again. Makes me lick, gagging hard. He moans at the pleasure and the idea of the act, and he ejaculates into my mouth.

I feel the hot smooth fluid coat the back of my mouth and I swallow it all.

Indie Boy - Tuesday Night

A small stroke of your firm flesh is all it takes to get you hard. A kiss to the neck, running my fingers tips along your ribs, a bite to the thigh.

You fucked me so deeply I bled. You smack me across the face.

It feels best when I'm on my knees for you, but it feels good anyway you want it.

Your thick and long and pulsing, whenever I want you to be, whenever I beg for you to fuck me.

The Older Man - Tuesday Afternoon

You stroke me and go down on me, we fuck till I come. I let you eat cake.

Indie Boy - Keep Counting

I cant remember how many times I made you ejaculate. Desperately, slowly, sensually, while we fucked, while I sucked you, while I stroked you with my hands. You made me orgasm compulsively and forcefully. I begged, 'Please can I come again', and you replied with composed emotion, with a dismissive tone that made me shiver and twitch, "If you want to".

You said you like to hurt me and you like that I like it.

We played endlessly for hours. I cant remember all we did, and in between we talked, and I said, its like I know you, or have known you for a long time, but not in that feelings way, in that it is comfortable, and you agreed that we were comfortable and I licked your neck like a pup.

The Boy - A Perfect Five Minute Fuck

I walk you into our bedroom, we're kissing.

You urge me onto our bed and go down.

You get me wet, roll me over, push yourself into me.

We move gracefully and completely synced, I rub with my hand and come hard against you.

You purr, 'good girl' softly to me as you push out your effluence onto my back.

Strawberry Fields

Finally I get to see you in bed. I go down on you. I lap at you. I pay particular attention to your soft silky mounds as you told me thats where you like to get touched, in the various filth ridden e-mails we have batted back and forth, in between your periods of saintliness and infidelity. How does it feel now to swap a lover for another? I almost feel achievement. You breath and thrust and you tell me your going to come. You ask me if thats what I want, so soon. I mouth, 'Whatever you want'.

You gush sticky pretty fluid into the back of my throat. I spit it all out against your pelvis. You kiss me, lap at my lips, I spit in your mouth, you smile.

You relax, we cuddle, and then you go down on me. You moan like my squirms and twitches pleasure you. I suppose in a way maybe they do. I ooze all over your mouth. I hit the top. I pull you up and lick myself off your face.

Indie Boy - Third Time Lucky.

We chat in a bar about films we both like and music we both like and life ideals. We walk to your car so you can collect your bag, I think.

You push my against the door of the car, cold and damp. You snap my wrists to my sides and you kiss me forcefully. I squirm and kiss you back, you tell me to get in the car and I hesitate. You put your hand tightly to my throat and you tell me again. I fumble to open the door with my clamped hand, you let me move out of the way before you open the door yourself and bundle me into the back seat.

We kiss, I fight you, you bite me, I play along. You wriggle out of your jeans, I do the same. I watch your cock bounce into its erect state. I put it in my mouth. I suck it then I sit on your lap, I rock and rub and fuck you, you fingers yanking my hair and holding my face like a doll. Then you pull out and come across my clothes. I chastise you playfully. I hate doing the washing more than once a week.

We kiss placidly. I stroke you, you harden again. I go down on you, lick and suck and spit for longer. I am spectacular, you are in awe, your eyes are watching me. You come again, all over my mouth and my neck.

We kiss for longer this time, you pull me onto my back by my legs and start to run your fingers against me, Im squirming and begging, I'm sodden and wet. You push your fingers inside me, I stroke your thighs. You tell me not to hope that you're going to get it up again. I say I don't care, but I know you're going to. You do. I make you wear a condom this time, we fuck forcefully, my hand behind my head to stop me cracking the glass of the side window. We both come, hard against each other. Three times? You're a very lucky boy.

The Architect

A mass of scruffy blonde and brown locks, a mess of coarse facial hair. Deep soft blue eyes like wet warm bathing water. Tall, with a medium build, his nose has a straight firm bridge, he looks like he could have been a character in a Jane Austen novel.

I chat to him, look up at him, let my lips part and smile softly. There is some sort of electric chemistry. In my mind I'm already undressing him. His eyes focus on me and yank me into the water. I am a little entranced by him and I think to myself, I must have him.

He says to me, 'you appeal, I want you', his arms twine around mine, I'm wrapped in a bramble bush, his hair on my face is thorny. He kisses me hungrily, sinks his teeth into my neck. He says, to me, 'there is something about you, you have a spark'.

'You're coquettish'.

He moans as I pleasure him with my mouth. My eyes bleed water as he penetrates me forcefully with his firm, large fingers. He is an architect. He is a very intelligent man. He is very rough with me but talks to me like I am his most precious possession.

This interaction isn't about technique. It is hard to explain but, I feel I am so stimulated by him in my mind, that the physical connection is not what is making me wet. He fascinates me. I wanted him and I had him. We fell asleep together.

Curvaceous Contorted Women

You grip my legs, push them up, twist them around you, you force me to come all over your mouth. I purr and bend and breath. You're just too nice. The artist who draws the curvaceous contorted women is Tamara Lempicka.

Question

Is "You make me as wet as Marti Pellow" a suitable dirty talk line?

My Golden Oldie

"Well you are quite big"

My body stretches out and yields around him as he's fucking me.

"I mean you probably have been told before, I would assume"

I'm rubbing myself and bursting.

"Well..." he shrugs.

I open my legs wider, he pushes low. Deep. I come so hard that I spurt and contract until I push him out.

Warsaw

You say that I am beautiful and interesting. I am flattered, because I am a little drunk. You are very cute and quite old fashioned, true and fair and that is nice. We kiss a lot, I kiss your mouth, you kiss mine, I kiss your neck and you kiss mine. Your skin is soft. You kiss my forehead. You stare at me a lot and play with my hair.

I ask, "Would you like it if I came back with you? I mean, to your house?"

When I enter your room all I can see is art, beautiful paintings. Hand made copies. One impression of two women curvaceous and beautiful, lounged on velvet chairs and Van Gogh, starry night over the Rhone. Another of a flower, which I tell you I dislike because the colours are garish and one of just blues and purple, radiating from a central circular core of green, swirled out. I tell you this one if my favourite and you ask me how do I know that this one is the best. I think I can just feel it. I ask "Did you do these?", you say no, your Mother. I compliment her work.

We lay on the bed and begin to kiss again. There is some music playing that neither of us listen to. I slide between your legs and you moan and say "You must be an angel" I laugh and say that I don't agree that giving good head will get me into heaven.

You pull my clothes off, quite expertly, desperate to touch my skin. We have sex for a while and then you reciprocate. It feels beautiful, like your painting, all oily swirls and colours bleeding from a central circular core. Your tongue is so wet and firm, I could come like this and I do. I say "You're good at that" and you reply that you like to do it.

We cuddle, kiss more, You make me feel quite beautiful, its very pure and honest. You ask please can you have my number. I hesitate but let you have it. I think I'd like to see you again, but I wouldn't want to hurt your feelings. You have been so nice to me and taken me away for a while. Art is the only way to escape without leaving home.

The Suit

I go down on you and you breath hard into the darkness. You say you want to reciprocate and I hesitate but I let you because well, why wouldn't I?

You dive between my legs, massaging me, thrusting your fingers forcefully inside of me, touching me with your thumb and your tongue. I expect you to get bored quickly but you don't. You persist and insist, you have me entranced on a blissful plain that stretches out endlessly like a desert sand. Soft, sun bleached. I walk on the hot white coals, blistering feet, scorched muscle, pulsing. I am in a painful, highly aroused, state. I am leaking fluid everywhere. I am causing an almighty mess. You are touching me like I am the purest most exciting thing.

I say fuck me, we do briefly, but then you slip back down and carry on. When I come its so hard. Your fingers penetrate me double, my fingers rub me. I moan and bleat and giggle and squirm and breath hard and experience that out of body moment in the desert, in the hot sun, on my back, with your hands. It is so intense and so long awaited and so fucking good. You seem so satisfied and you ask "How was that?" and I let my teeth chatter and I stare at you.

The South African

You are so strong. The muscle in your arms bulges as you hold onto my tiny wrists. You stop me reaching up, enclosing my hands in your palms, you could make the bones shatter in seconds. You could break me like glass. I am so turned on because you are so strong. The power behind your thrusts makes me shift on the bed, you cup your hand behind my head to stop me hurting myself and you drive your cock into me. You are so strong and rippled with fat even muscle. I am scared and aroused beyond compare.

The Strawberry Blonde

So we sit in a pub, conversation flowing readily and I'm talking and animating. As we sip our drinks your hands reach out to touch mine. I run my finger tips over your wrists and stroke your thumb between them. I watch your hands and your mouth when you're talking and I think how sweet they'll feel knuckle deep in my flesh or wrapped around my waist. Your eyes crease up when you smile and I tell you I am worried about wrinkles. You laugh at me. When we wait for your train you ask me if Im going to kiss you. I stare at you, then I stare at the ground. You kiss me tenderly. I reciprocate. There is a yearning of arousal. You tell me I'm cute, or that the situation is cute, I'm not sure which or what. You tell me I have a pretty face and I think you'll make it look much prettier when we go to bed together. Sodden or flushed or both. I lean against the wall and you stand in front of me, you push your body against my body and we carry on kissing. I scratch the hair on the back of your neck and nip your bottom lip gently. You clasp the side of my throat with your hand. I twinge and squirm. You say goodbye and we think about each other for a while.

Like Old Times

"So are you going to fuck me or not?"

I sat on your lap and felt you thick hard cock slide painfully inside me, all stretched out like putty. I rocked on your lap, all different speeds and sensations. So satisfyingly filling. You yanked me onto my back and fucked me in that old fashioned way. I closed my eyes and myself drift off. Deep and filling, too deep and painful. We fucked for a long time and then we went for ice cream.

Pornography

She watches the girl open herself up to get fucked through the dust of the screen.

She delves her fingers in between her legs and rubs against herself.

The girl on the screen opens her mouth in a silent 'oh'.

Her lips are sealed tight and bitten down, cut on the lower side with a slight red mark.

She needs to stop biting her lips.

The girl on the screen is twisted and bent and experienced.

She is leaking and watching.

Not Directly Related To Getting Fucked

I've never really known what it feels like to get fucked over before now. My friends have all been good friends. Strong true friends, so why would one decide to mess me around? Don't spread malicious cruel truths to try and get one up on me. I hope karma bites you hard and gives you a right dark bruise.

Is it ok to use your blog to drunk post?

Dreams

Long dry hair like rope and thin lips. Pecks and flutters, struggling against his strong hands and he lifts her up, hook in the hair like he's holding a carcass. She squirms and struggles. Lithe long bones jutting out from the skin. Ribs, thighs and fillets of skin. Her breasts are flat when she's stretched like this.

Im so jealous.

The Older Man - Comedy and Tragedy

You took me to the theatre to see some comedy, and it was quite funny. We sat like friends for the first half, sipping beer and chatting. I couldn't resist playing the provocateur though. I slid my hand across your thigh. I felt you tense. Satisfied in the result I continued to watch the stand up.

We went to a bar afterwards, got a little drunker. You kissed me. I don't really like the way you kiss, so I close my eyes and I think about the way your cock use to feel inside me instead. I put my hand on your upper arm, touched the tone of the muscle, you work at it and it feels good.

You tell me you're going to London in a few weeks, an open invite. I say I'll think about it.

In The Dark

He wrapped her wrists tightly in vinyl. Looped her to the bed head. He yanked her downwards, by her ankles, stretching her out like meat. It was very dark. The lights were off her eyes were closed. He touched her and smacked her and groped her. She struggled against the restraints, as he stretched her thighs wide, pushing against the joint, forcing his tongue all over her.

On The 9th Day Of Christmas

Now we just hook up when we're drunk. We fuck and that's it. I don't know if it's better this way, but the sentiment I had for you is burnt out.

I'm moving away tomorrow and I won't have to see you again if I don't want to.

New roads are lonely though, and I've got a lot of time now. I don't like to have regrets, but letting myself feel for you was a poor mistake. Richer learned now. Wisdom is a treasure. The feeling is fizzed up like burnt paper.

I wont miss you anymore.

fifteen small words - the one that didn't work out.

"Its not your fault. I'm nervous."

"I know it's not my fault. I should go."