The music producer

You kiss at me rabidly. Dart your tongue into my mouth. I tell you to stop that. I don't like it that way. You laugh at me but listen. There's hope in that fragment of information. You're playing with my hair and that feels exquisite, scratching my scalp, pulling your fingers through the soft blackness, stroking it away from my face, it's easy to ignore the indiscretion. It's easy to melt into the moment.

We go to bed together continue to kiss. I ask you to take off your jeans, your cock looks hard and heavy, it curves towards your stomach in an appealing arch. I slide it into my mouth. You mumble an expletive. Push your hips up. I think it must feel good. I hope it does.

I run my hand down your thigh, tight with woven muscle, your right leg is covered in a large grey tattoo, I glance over it as I'm pleasuring you. You're adorned in images of fire, anguish ghoulish faces, brutal clawed hands, swirls of smoke and brimstone. I smile to myself and choke on your cock.

We take off more clothes, my underwear, your t-shirt. Your body is fucking delicious, globes of muscle bulge from your upper arms and shoulders, wrapped in a layer of creamy soft skin. Your chest is taught, broad, smooth toned stomach, dips where your groin begins, I just want to touch you. I can sense how strong you are, they way you guide my head, holding firmly but without aggression, as I slide my mouth up and down your cock.

You slip your hand in between my legs and start to touch me. I'm wet and excited. I ask if you'll fuck me, on my knees, you happily oblige. You push in. Mmm, fuck that feels good. Your thrusts are hard and relentless. You keep pushing. You lean over and hold onto the back of my neck. You cram my face into the pillows. Mm yes please. You penetrate me like this until I come in an aching wet contraction. Moaning into the bed. A breathless raising pitch of ecstasy. We break momentarily. I lie on my back, catch my breath, grin at you, you push back inside me. This feels so good. I whisper that in you're ear, I run my tongue up your neck, I can taste sweat, I kiss your throat, big open mouthed kisses. You pin my hands to me sides, you're very strong, you don't break for a moment. You just keep fucking my pussy, spasms and wetness and pain as you push deep.

You lean back. Rap your hand around my throat and start to squeeze. I stare at you. My eyes flutter. I smile and moan. I can feel it starting to get hard to think, a wash of white, fade, fade and back. You loosen your grip. I gush and come against you and all over the bed.

"Sit on my lap".

I squat flat on my feet over your cock and push down.

"Fuck". You've sworn at me relentlessly throughout this process. It must feel good then. It seems good. At points you tell me not to stop. There's no whisper of humility in it, like when I beg for pleasure. It's a straight cold command.

"Don't stop".

I wouldn't. You hold my hips tightly, thrust into my hole, you're so strong, your arms, I hold them tightly and feel the muscles contract.

We switch again. I go back to sucking you. Deep, fast, choke, working with my hand as well. I can feel the tension in your body. The desire to come. I tease you. You jam your cock deep into my throat. Grip the back of my head.

"Don't fuck around".

My cunt vibrates in deep contraction. The way you talk to me, it's delicious.

You pull my head back, you tell me you're going to fuck me again, back on my knees, you do, a few more minutes of pleasure, but it's stopped being about me now, it's about you, your cock, your orgasm, my body is a vessel. My head is flying, tripping on its happy wave, my body pumps with blood and desire, red, the colour of control, emergency, make it happen.

You pull from me. Turn me around. I look at your eyes, dark and desperate and wild. The squeak of the bed an irritating distraction.

"Come here", I say.

I kneel on the floor, at the foot of the bed, you stand in front of me, you get the picture, jerking your cock aggressively jamming it between my lips and down my throat, I act as a canvas, a glass to fill, to cover, spill all over. I open my mouth, look up at you, green doe eyes, darkly lashed. Come for me.

You cover me, splatter all over my mouth, my chin, my chest and stomach, strings and ribbons of finale. A pretty come shot. I grip your thigh. Your muscles are tight and twisted, ragged breath, you feel so good underneath my palm, so strong, so in control.

Saturday evening

I go and sit on his knee. He's at his desk. I ask if we can go upstairs and have a little fun. He says we can. I am excited.

We go to bed. Undress. We kiss each other in that soft and tentative way we do. Ribbons of caged desire strung out between my lips and his. He is smiling, happy, relaxed, he strokes my body, from the curve of my bottom, up over my hip, dip to the waist, almost to the curve of my breast. He stops before the sweetest spot, repeats the process in a monotonous build up of pleasure.

I'm devouring him, heavy breath, please give me release, please give me more. He strokes his fingers over the creamy soft flesh of my chest, over my nipples, lifts his head to take one in his mouth, suck and pull, it's exquisite, a make those little mewling noises, gasps. I can feel the wetness begin to lubricate and over take and coat everything. The foreplay is timeless, he just goes on and on. It scares me when he's nice like this. It excites and gratifies me.

I ask if I can take him in my mouth he says I can. I start to suck him in effortless rhythm. We are in time, in tune, it sounds good, his hand reaches between my legs. I am dripping wet. Easy to arouse. I beg for him. I want to feel him fuck me so badly.

I ask him if it feels good as he slides between my legs.

"Of course".

I climax quickly and then we carry on, bucking, I come again. I'm breathless, as is he. Moisture dripping from our skin. I whisper.

"What can I do? Let me give to you. What do you want. Anything".

I curl into him. He to me. He tells me to enjoy the feeling, catch my breath. Our bodies are wet and happy. Sweat, sex and satisfaction.

The cyclist again

I still dont know if I find you that attractive. I don't really like your body, but I like your touch and the way you fuck me. You smile is wicked, you make me laugh. I love your enthusiasm and you are so sweet to me. I think thats probably enough?

You touch and stroke my body, by the time you slide my clothes off I'm dripping wet. You delicately play with me, take direction wisely and lick me and that feels so good.

You fuck me hard, my body relents with several orgasms, good hard climaxes, I gush all over the bed.

We break and I suck you, its hard to make you come but I don't resent it. Its alright. You stroke me while Im sucking you. Its distracting is a good way. You ask to fuck me again. I say of course. We finally come together. Me on my knees, you curled against my back like an animal, its very satisfying, its very nice.

You have to go, no problem, dude, I'll see you soon. Its probably enough?

Burn

Im on all fours by his desk. He's inserted the vibrating plug into my cunt. he's intermittently touching me, when the mood takes him. I am soaking wet. My knickers are around my ankles, my body vibrates, my chest heaves every time he stroke mes. Its getting hard to stay still.

I hear you get up, come back upstairs, I hear you light up as well and then I feel a scorching burn between the cheeks of my buttocks. I squeal. I assume you've burnt me with a cigarette. It feels that way. I cant work out what you've done. Oh, you've covered me in chilli sauce, some scotch bonnet potion, don't normal people start with tabasco? No normal people don't do this.

Hes laughing at my squeals, poking me, he makes me get up and go upstairs. Walking is agony. He makes me get on my knees, probes my arse with his finger tip. It makes me squeak again and cry. He removes the plug from my cunt, it's dripping, tries to slide it into my bottom. I find it hard to let him. Its a battle. He wins in the end.

He starts to fuck me. God it hurts, chilli has dripped down and my whole groin feels ablaze. A hot horrid heat. I come quickly. We carry on and break.

Then plug out, he's going to fuck my arse. I hate him. For gods sake, why? He slides in easily and begins to screw me long and slow. It burns badly. It fades out. The fuck is endless, we go on and on, I come for him again despite the pain and protestation. I don't know how long we're together for. I know I'm spotlessly clean, twitching, burning, alive for him. He comments later that watching my little hole twitch, flicks his sick and sordid switches.

I know it must feel good, the noises he makes, his gaze is completely vacant. I can feel him popping against the muscle. I know he's close. He releases inside me and its almost cooling. What a horrible thought.

We collapses together on the bed. I take him in my mouth, he tastes like chilli, how bizarre, how divine, he's sweating and spent. Im exhausted and I still burn. It takes hours to fade away, but theres no real damage.

The Good Dad

I've got my head tipped over the side of your bed, your repeatedly jamming your cock down my throat. I cant move, you're thick and I can barely breath. This just got interesting.

It took me a while to warm up, I don't like how you kiss or touch, but you're spoiling me with something phallic and its generous and thats good enough and its easy to come.

We sleep together. You make me a coffee in the morning and some toast. You cut it into small pieces like I'm a little girl. That doesn't bother me. It makes me feel safe.

The cyclist - head

I want to make you make some noises, I want it to feel good. I pull out all the tricks. You fuck my throat, twist my hair in your hands, I lick and jerk and suck hard, you like it hard, a tight grip. I make you come in a breathless tight gasp. Your body is tense and brittle. My intentions are rewarded. You seem happy. You pull me in close to you, wrap your arm around me. You seem happy. Good.

The guitar player

Drunken visceral sex, you fuck me and its sore, I can't remember your name, you've told it to me several times, but I can't remember it.

The things you do to me feel good, but you're a little much, too eager, to affectionate, it makes my skin crawl. It makes me want to leave an carry on drinking.

You do make me climax, big and bursting, wet. I don't particularly worry about making you come. I don't particularly care.