No trouble

Your long thick fingers stroke my neck. You excite me. It's a direct line.

I feel so wet and so far away. So excited and juvenile. Fucking in your car, in the dark, on some country lane.

You touch me and caress me, pinch my nipples through the lace of my bra, hold my throat, run your fingers over the bones.

You hold me head down as I choke on your cock. You make me suck you hard. You twitch in my mouth and fill my parted lips with fluid.

The windows drip in condensation. My skin is damp. I can feel the heat of your mouth on my cunt. I hear your breath. You bite me. So hungry. You bite me again.

You touch my thigh, stretch me out, make me come. Once then twice and I'm so gone. It feels so good, I just shake and gulp for air. It feels so strong. It makes me ache. You drive me wild, you drive me home.

Sir - Smile

I look up into his blue eyes and my mouth oh's in a pleasured breath; and he pushes his body onto me, and his cock into me, and he smiles.

Shooting trouble again.

I love the way you kiss me, intense and flat and heady. You breath so heavy when you kiss my neck and cunt. 

Like I make you breathless. 

Like I make you hungry. 

You make me come so easy and so hard. Those perfect thick long fingers. I want to fuck you now. You give me everything but...

I am starving.

Gavin - fragile and emotional

Curled on the hotel bed together, drinking wine in a slow conversation. It turns out 'you're in love now, but it's not with me, so I'm not interested.

I curl into you and smell the cologne on your neck, touch your thigh through your jeans. There's a stammer in my voice and I'm making realistic statements, but I don't think you'll see me again now.


Sex with you is so cleansing. You make me feel so fragile and emotional. You choke me into a blind and spluttering panic. You fuck my throat until I gag back vomit. Take me, screw me, touch me up. I wish I could cry. I'd like to. You smack me repeatedly across my face, tip me upside down, rag me around. Violence, desire and confusion.

I apply my lipstick and we go for dinner, and you tell me I look chic and beautiful. I find it hard to keep it together in front of you, sometimes. I cant lie down with you at night.

I barely sleep.

You wake me up and give me coffee and you lick me and fuck me and drag me to the shower and piss all over my face, as I cower and scrunch up my eyes. You wash my hair like I'm your little girl. You touch my body. You rub your cock against me.

I walk you to the station. We smoke a cigarette and say goodbye.

You kiss me softly on the lips.

You tell me you'll talk to me soon, but I don't believe you. You tell me you're still the same person, but you're not.

Northern Rob

The back and forth, the pitterpatter, your face is not quite right but your chat is great. I laugh until my cheeks hurt.

When you pull your cock from your jeans it looks exquisite. Through my hazy eyes I can't quite judge how big it is. You kiss me in a fever. I don't like it because it itches.

I push your head down to my chest and you pull and suck my nipples now, that's much better, much, much.

Your head moves lower between my thighs and you stroke me and you lick me and I twist you up, by your hair, and tell you to fuck me. Impatient that I am.

I slide you cock Into my mouth and you briefly grab my hair and push me down until I  choke and wretch.

I'm on my knees and you hilt yourself into me. It feels like a punch.
Such delicious agony. It's deep. I space out wildly. I am grains of sand. No thinking, no feeling, just wide plains of hurt and happiness

Ache and clench and ache. I come against you and you inside me and then we breath and chat and then we do it all again.

The trouble shooter

You are tall and willowy with a manic cat grin. You have me in the back of your car, your thick long fingers hilted in my cunt and arse. Push and twist, until I come all over the seat. I suck you. A little soft, a little average. You harden when I choke on you. I swallow your come. You're a kind soul, I like you. You're good entertainment.

Bitter man

"What are you thankful for?"

"Thank you for fucking me. Thank you you for letting me suck your cock"

His hand wraps tightly around my throat and he pushes down hard. I choke and cough.

Such a ragged and selfish fuck. He lacks the skill he thinks he has, but he talks a damn good game.

"Your face looks so pretty when your mouth is full of cock".

I gag and wretch. My eyes stream. His effluvium tastes so fucking sweet. It's moorish and divine. His cock is perfect to fuck and suck and he rags my hair and smacks my face. He's not as good as he thinks he is... but he's good enough.

The ex-cop

You take me out with drive around, talking about politics and crime and the state of the nation and then you fuck me with your hands until I gush all over the leather seats in your car.

I don't remember your name.

Anal fixation

Weighted clamps hang from my small sore little nipples. He tells me to spread my legs and put my palms on the bed.

Crack as he opens the bottle. He runs his fingers between the cheeks of my arse. Smooth and slick he slides between the puckered flesh and starts to stretch me out. A slow hard push. No stretch. It makes me gag.

He fucks my arse. Clean and unceremonious. Deep and uncaring. He holds my hips tightly and pushes into me hard. It is a bliss and a trip out. I am happy. He is happy. He is happy. That's what matters.

Another time, another place. He pushes the inflatable plug into my arse and cranks it wider as he licks my cunt. Full and aching, desperate for a fuck. I do my best not to try and push his head into my aching cunt. Drop drip. Just fuck me. On my knees, so full, ragged constant thrusts, make me ache and cut me up.

Cut me up. Fuck me. fuck me.  I come several times.

Sir fresh brand new.

I need you to complete me. I am nothing without you. 

I need you to fill me and hurt me, and sometimes you do.

Sometime you do. 

Sometimes I need you more than anything.

Sometimes i just need anything.

Sometimes i just need you.

Gavin.... breath, doubt and trouble.

Your eyes are deep and blue. You say that they're full of expression. All I see is calm, with shark bites of emotion. Someone, somebody made. Sometimes you're so kind to me… but it really doesn't matter. 

Time spills out like sand, I block and pull around in my brain. Balance and equilibrium. I am alone on this island.  I am alone and you are here. 

So shake, smack, hold me down. Use my body and make me forget what day it is. The room is hot and seeping. The walls pulse and ooze. Throb like a heart beat. 

Its so warm in here. Its so warm. You force your cock down my throat. Deep and uncaring. Im wet in sweat and spit and I'm boiling hot and smothered.

I want you to take everything away. Breath, doubt and trouble. Take it all away and make me beautiful. Make me empty and alive. For some fleeting moment, make yourself everything to me. Make all my choices, carve out my fear. 

Desire beats through my body like a drum and I'm sore and punched up, and bruised and fucked up, but I don't think you'd enjoy me, if I was any other way. 

Over stretched, over used, needy desperate whore. Hedonistic harlot with those little perfect lips and such a cruel tongue. A pretty face to spit on and a mass of flesh to hurt and hold and damage. 

You make me feel like I don't have to be anyone else. You don't make me feel anything. You just make me want to fuck and touch and do what you want. You make me cry. A touch too much? I make me cry. I love to cry. You love it when I cry. 

You eat me and stroke me and screw me up and make me come. I do as you tell me. A honied trap. A sweet unreachable game.  

Endless crashing pleasure, peppered in pain and anticipation. The taste of salt on your neck, when I run my tongue against it. 

I don't want this to die. 

You hold my throat until I start to black out. You hold my throat. 

Before and after

There is always a before an after. Stories and suggestions. Dinner and wine and anticipation. Wash my hair and lets go for ice-cream. Hold my hand on the train. I run my fingers up your thigh. 

I don't play this part so well. 

Peaches

I lie on the crisp bed sheets. 

The sun shining softly against my white face. 

He buries his head between my thighs. 

Soft, wet, pleasure. Pink flesh.

I can taste sweet fresh peaches in my mouth. 

This is pretty much as good as it gets. 

Steve the Fitter

Those wet blue eyes, full of something. It looks like desire, be it could easily not be.  The warmth of your mouth as it heats my cunt and your flat, wet tongue laps at that soft skin. Exquisite oozing pleasure drips down my thighs and onto your sheets.

You yank off your jeans, I slide you between my lips and your cock is perfect, thick and big and easy to choke on. I make you come with my
mouth and you make me come with your fingers. Mewling, howling, moaning pleasure, like some great big animal. Some wild sound and then that fuck. How good it felt. How tight and overdue. My cunt clenched and stretched around that perfect big cock of yours.

No feeling. Just sensation. Nothing but pure aching, rough pleasure. I come and come again. So do you. This situation softens, heady and drunk on release. Quiet and glazed and breathing. Quiet and kind and warm. Soft and sweet. You take me home.

Mine all mine.

Engorged pink pumped flesh, on my knees in front of him as he flogs my bottom to the rosiest hue.

Sweet, tight tender holes, to hurt and invade, and fuck, and use. 

Always willing and ready. Always desperate.

Orgasms to steal and create and beg for and swell up with. Explode with and dissolve in.

Satisfaction to provide, to nurture and cherish. 

Kisses to make, hands to hold, breaths to capture and steal. Mine all mine. 

The pulpit

All in black lace, he bends me over and inserts the anal hook into me. He loops rope and nooses it to the collar fastened around my throat.

He wraps the rope over the spires of the pulpit and begins to tighten it. I raise onto my tip toes, my body pulled like a carcass. My weight resting on the hook in my arse, my throat and shaking legs.

Its difficult and uncomfortable and evokes panic. He leaves me and goes outside to smoke a cigarette. My face is covered in fearful tears and smeared make up.

He returns. He raises and lowers me as he sees fit, up and down like butchers meat. He whips my nipples and cunt, as I hang from the pulpit praying that it will end seen. He is the decider in that moment, it will not end soon.

He later fucks and chokes me on the bed my head is awash with subsiding panic and desperation. Soaking and sweating and desperate to come. Its over now, as good as over, thank God its over.

Sir / Sunday evening

We've done our duties. We're at home. I can barely string a sentence together, my cunt is so sore, my body hurts. It hurts to talk. 

We make up our bed and lie in it. I kiss his mouth, he tells me that I'm kissing about three foot too high and I hear him unbuckle his belt.

My lips happily find his cock and his fingers find my cunt and every time he touches me its like fucking ecstasy. It couldn't feel any better. It always feels so good.

I'm over used and marked and home. Abandoned on our doorstep. Like some misspent adventure.

He fucks me on my knees, strong, deep, this won't take long. It never does with him. It never does. I beg to come. I whisper. I release and I empty out. He holds me tightly. I needed it so badly. I need. I always need. I always want. Im greedy and revolting but at least I'm always his. 

Gavin / Sunday morning

He seems to like it when I suck him. I seem to like it when I do. I do so gratefully. Such a precious chore. Mine all mine. We do this. This is mine. 

We stand on the balcony and have a cigarette and he runs his hands over my hips and the curve of my arse and spanks me playfully. He pulls up my dress. it feels like the whole entire world can see my cunt as he exposes me on that balcony. I moan and tell him how much I liked the smack and he takes that opportunity to flop me over his lap on the couch and smack my arse until its rosy.

He decides to come. Leaning across my body. Expelling all over my chest and face. I scoop his effluvium in desperate greed, into my little pink mouth, while he showers. I touch myself in thebedroom. I want to come so badly. He packs up his belongings around me in a fleeting glance, touches me momentarily. Closes his bag and the weekend away.

I have my hand between my legs when he kissed me good bye. My eyes fade in and out in desperation. He takes one last look at my sorry, desperate face and he closes the door... and he leaves me. 

My cunt contracts, a wild and desperate lonely climax. Without his guidance or control. Without him. Something all of my own. All alone, its something. I let my body melt and moan and blend into the sensation. So ready, so wanting and sore. So poor an so over.

I get up eventually. Its difficult. I abandon the bed and I look in the mirror. 

My body is a sick and sorry canvas. Bruised tits and split capillaries, under my skin. My arse is covered in finger marks, my back in scratches, my neck in deep grey shapes. The skin on my face is raw and it itches.  Come drips from my cunt down my thighs. I look at myself and into myself. Lost and wild and alone. I look through myself and feel strong and good and nothing. I am nothing. I am everything. I am marked and I am perfect. 

Gavin / Saturday evening the end

Comfort and satisfaction is never enough. There’s never too much. My body twitches and he contorts my cunt with his fingers. I don't even want to come anymore, I just want to hurt. I tell him so. He throws me around the bed. Pinned on my side. He begins to pinch and grope my beasts. Squeezed and disfigured. Its agony. I wince and bleat he tells me to shut up, and I fight him back and he uses his heel to repeatedly kick me in the ribs. I want a tussle. I don't want it to be easy. He quickly over powers me. On top of my body, his knee between my thighs, hands pinned.

He comments on my predicament. I feel arousal wet my lips. I smirk and swallow hard.

He places my hands on his chest and tells me not to move them. He reigns smacks down on my face and breasts. Injury after injury. I am feeble and red faced. He moves me again and pushes my head down on his cock. I suck at him ravenously until he decides to change the location. On his back, in the lounge I continue to suck him while be blows white smoke from his mouth into the cool air of the room. Time stretches and twists out in front of us in a plume, and my memory now appears in flickers. He pushes my face into the glass french doors at one point, threatens to make me sleep outside in the cold, on the balcony. Bare and ashamed. I snivel and cry and beg him not to make me. Afraid of heights, afraid of him. I think he threatens to burn me with a cigarette then but I don't quite remember...

”Please don't make me sleep outside. Please don't make me sleep outside”.

I cry and snivel, a crumpled mess on the rug. 

He breaths in my face, his face uncomfortably close. I flinch and try to cover my ears. He tries to pull my hands away. Its driving me mad, its irritating beyond belief. It makes me twitch and feel sick. Still scared, still wanting and then it all stops. 

White silence.

My brain begins to drain like a plug hole. 

I’ve given in.

I have completely given up.

Hours, days, evenings, of sex, exquisite pleasure, humiliation and abuse, My body hurts, my head is numb and I just don't feel. 

I don't feel anything.

And its perfect.

Its beautiful.

Nothing he could do right now could change it.

He shakes me, tries to scare me, I hear him drop metal objects on the near by table. It doesn't matter what they are now. I don't flinch anymore. I don't care. He puts his hands on me softly. He doesn't know me well enough to know who I am, here. What girl I am, what a mess I am, what a perfect empty mess. 

I feel him gently start to stroke my skin. Soothing me and pulling me towards the heat of his body. He runs his hands through my hair and strokes my face. I have no one to be and nothing to say. I am no one and I feel nothing. I am his and everything and I am not at all. 

We go to bed together. 

I sleep deeply.

I wake up for more.

Gavin / Saturday evening the beginning

Saturday evening so sweet and nice, dinner together. I watch him in exquisite attention. He watches me, smoke. Red lips, pale skin and dark eyes. It’ll be over soon, it’ll be dead in the water. We go home.

We’re lying in bed together. Stroking, touching, feeling everything. 

His fingers tips are cold and smooth. 

This is white and calm and intimate. 

This is whole and beautiful.

The pleasure stretches between us in a ribbon of potential. I ask him if he’ll take me on my knees so that I can feel our bodies wrap together, like some sweet animal. It takes little persuasion. Rolling slowly entwined, that moment where our bodies interlock and he pushes into me. I cry out. My flesh is tight and hot. He grips my hips and we begin to move. Slowly and effortlessly, Little room for error. The heat in the room is intense and brooding. He leans into me and screws me harder. I ask him can I touch myself and he says I can touch wherever I want. We move,  he’s low over my back with that insistent push and my skin burns and I know i’ll come and I do and it spreads like fire. 

Muscles fork in a vice around his cock. 

I here him catch his breath. 

Such sweet release. 

He moans at me.

We carry on, and on and on. 

I ask him if he’ll come for me. If he’ll forgo any politeness and use my body to sate his flesh. I want to feel him come, so badly, it would be a gift. Its not my birthday, I hope that isn't going to matter. He begins to speed up, his finger tips dig into the soft flesh on my hips and he throws my body down onto his cock. Bang at me, hurt my cunt, use it how you want to. Tension builds in growls and hard breaths and he drives his flesh into me and I hold as still as I can and he hilts himself as deep as he will fit and then stop. 

Release.

Like an atomic bomb, energy zips though us. I can feel the heat of pooling come in latex. I can feel his cock pulse, I tighten my muscles and release in a rhythm, milking and begging out pleasure, seconds away from my own. 

His voice cracks. 

Some base fragility. 

It sounds almost too much. 

His limbs weaken up as he drops next to me. He picks up the condom and pours its contents into my open mouth. I slide my tongue between the rim of the latex sheath to eek out every last drop of deliciousness.

I am so high, completely lost. I take his cock, to softly mouth, the spent flesh and hunt for any last taste of fluid.

We lie close on the bed, he talks dulcetly, softly, in some half ecstasy. I am completely strung out, totally up and higher than birds who fly lower than us.  

Gavin / Saturday afternoon

Saturday afternoon. He tells me to suck him and he tells me he’s going to piss in my mouth. I take a deep breath. I know this one. I start to swallow the vile acidic yellow water as he forces into down my throat. It gets too much. I spit the last into my abandoned coffee cup.

We were talking, of course we were. Oh God, what happened to that? He throws me to the floor in the lounge. He pins me down by my head and he hits me. His hand around my neck. I cannot move, pathetic, green and cowardly fear. Wetness pooling in the lips of my cunt. He has me motionless. I whimper piteously. I am terrified and abused. He puts his finger to his lips, his eyes filled with excitement and menace and he whispers to me,

”Shush”.

I put my shaking finger to my mouth and I look at him, scared and compliant.

I wont tell, I wont tell anybody. Please don't hurt me. 

He tells me to get up and go the bathroom. He says he’s going to fuck me in the white tub, while I piss on our flesh. The task is impossible. I feel guilt in my inability. He fucks me aggressively, bagging my head into the tiles. I frustrate him. He tells me he’s going to make me drink until i cant hold it in. He pushes the faucet from the shower into my mouth. I fight him pathetically. I give in. 

I think, ‘God, please don't do this, please don’t turn the water on’.

He does of course, water floods my nose and throat and I can’t breath and I choke and splutter. Piss starts to flood from my body and his runs his fingers through the stream and smears it all over me. He turns off the tap. I am crying, shaking, fragile and brittle. I cower in the corner of the bathtub. He tries to touch me and it feels like it should hurt. I flinch away and sob. He gets up and turns off the light and leaves me crying alone. I don't know how long for. I see the door open out of the crack of my eye and he throws the contents of the mug at me. The one I left, filled with acrid urine and coffee. It itches my skin. Waste not, want not. 

I dont cry about that. It seems completely justified. 

Im left again. He comes back a short time later. He pulls me towards him and starts to grip at my stained flesh. My chest, my neck, it hurts. He runs a pinwheel over my body. 

I don't want to play anymore. 

Please don't make me. 

I wont tell anybody.

I promise.

He lets me go. The sobbing pathetic mess I am, and he starts to soothe me. Holding me. He runs a shower and starts to wash my hair. He cleans me and himself, taking away the danger. It ends in pleasure and climax. He gives me intense and exquisite head as I lie clean and wet on the apartment bed. His fingers find all those adult spots and it makes me release and cry out and it washes my head as clean as my hair.  

Gavin / Saturday Morning 15 small words

Coffee, chat, choke hold, fuck me, my breath, where did it go? I come.

Gavin / Friday

Friday night is tired and easy. He turns me up and on. The desire is almost palpable. We sit in a bar and he tells me some stories and jokes and I watch his lips move, and his eyes flicker, and I look at his hands, and I watch him smoke, and I think about kissing him and whether he wants to kiss me. 

Naive, sweet thoughts. 

What an error to think in such a way. 

We go back to the apartment. 

We fuck, its pretty effortless and sweet and visceral. I suck him, he tastes me, we share fluid and fleeting control. its pretty good. Its pretty great. It ignites desire. It begs for more.

The young couple - her fantasy

He kisses exquisitely. His lips feel soft and embracing. He has a girlfriend. She fantasises about him being used by a woman, in their bed, when she's at work. Today I am that woman.

I trace my tongue along his neck, he tells me he's enjoying it and I tell him that I know that. He kisses me back and plays with my breasts. I suck his cock. He won't let it end.

He turns me on and heats me up and we fuck and I need to come now, badly. I suck my effluent from his fingers and he pauses to tell me it's hot. Tricks well learned. I'm playing for an audience I'll never meet. That's strange and some how encouraging.

He makes me come by forcing one of their sex toys deep inside me. I squirt and soak the bed. He tells me he's going to use that again with her later and his cock twitches, as he says it, like a bug.

He is kind, enjoyable. He likes me. I can tell. I don't really care all that much, but it felt good when I came. Intense and heavy. I thought about the way he kissed. I wanted him to kiss me goodbye. He didn't. I could have pushed for it but I didn't. It's not his fantasy, it's hers, today I was that woman.

Just some boy

You keep calling me girl. You tell me you like my body, that I'm perfect. I'm not perfect but that doesn't matter now.

You make me come by fucking me with your fingers. It's good and hard and intense.

I don't bother to return the favour. I put my dress on and I leave.

Sir, quick - 15 small worlds

I don't know how it always feels so good with you, but it always does.

Mr Big

You are so tall and strong. We kiss and you grip my neck and pull me around like a rag doll. We go upstairs. I unbutton my shirt. Silk and pale white flesh. You pull down my jeans. You're on top of my body, grinding yourself into my cunt. I feel small. I reek of sex and I'm soaking wet. You push your fingers into me and rub me and I toss my head back and let my body writhe, and close my eyes up.

When you take off the last of your clothes, I see your cock, thick and hard. I slide it into my mouth and can barely fit around it. I drool and gag. I get on my knees and you thrust into my cunt. It feels good. Tight and stretched out and hot and wet. You make me come a few times with that exquisite thick cock, it's delicious.

You like to spank. You hit my bottom
hard as you screw me, you split the skin in a few places and cause me to bruise. I like how heavy and hard your hands are. You make me feel fragile and small and useable.

I make you come by taking you into my mouth. Your body shakes as you grip my skull and push your cock into my throat. So thick I can barely breath. It makes me feel sick and I like it a lot.

Chef Michael - Thursday night/Friday morning

I'm leaning against the kitchen counter. Kissing him. He me. He runs his hands over my body and gropes me like a piece of meat.

I taste his neck, run my tongue against the sinew, feel the pulse against my lips. He does the same in return. I close my eyes and roll my head back.

Lips again. He separates our kiss. He puts his hand on my shoulder and forcefully pushes me to my knees. I look up at him. He unbelts his jeans and pulls them down.

He pushes his cock towards my mouth, fleshy, hard and swollen. I suck and lick and kiss and draw him into the heat of my lips.

He pushes his cock down my throat and holds my head in his hands. One around my throat and the other twisted up in my hair. Fuck and fuck some more. He moves his flesh into my throat as I gasp for breath. My eyes start to stream. The assault continues. I gag and hold back vomit. Swallow it down. He rubs my dripping eye make up all over my face with the heel of his palm. I look at him in begging compliance. Covered in black muck. Head pinned sharply to the cupboard, kneeling weakly on the floor, arms sprawled and limp.

He chooses not to stop. Repeatedly he thrusts and fucks and suffocates. He yanks down the cups of my bra and reaches to pinch and twist at my nipples. I yelp.

He smacks me hard across the face. Once then twice. My ear rings. I'm crying and sucking and doing my best to please him. He fingers work my flesh. I want to satisfy him so badly. My brain is awash, short of blood and breath, I can feel my cunt soak through the silk of my knickers. I can feel my heart beating. I look at him. Everything in my body says please.

He pulls back and tells me that he's going to come and he does. All over my face, in my eyes, in my hair, everywhere. It drips down my neck.

I feel completely dazed.

Later that evening the fun continues. He uses his rough calloused fingers to bring me to climax while his other hand grips my neck tightly. Restricting my breath, enhancing my pleasure, making me gush and making me want more.

The next morning as he readies for work I take his cock in my mouth again. More restraint on his part this time. Less I suffer. I swallow his come and let it travel deep into the pit of my stomach. He gets redressed, finishes his coffee and kisses me. I moan into his mouth, aching and desperate for a fix I won't get. He runs his fingers over my soaking cunt, I whimper. He pulls back his hand and he leaves me.

I touch myself in his bed while I roll the taste of him around in my mouth, arching my spine, squirting and coming all over the sheets.

Something else to remember my by.

Get well soon

We kiss and his hand threads into my head and cradles my head and he pulls me into him like a baby. I'm his baby and he wants to sooth my needs.

He rolls me onto my back and pushes his weight against me. I am pinned and unmoving. The kiss continues, his lips reach for my neck and my breasts. I quietly beg for him to bite my nipples. He'll bite me but not as hard as he knows that I want.

I push my groin up into him, whimpering, insisting. I need it badly. It's not enough to not need it badly all the time right now, when he doesn't have much desire to give me what I need.

I run my hand between our bodies and hold onto his cock, thick with blood and intention. I rub it against my hard and liquid smeared clit, and gratify myself. Whimpers escalate to moans. He pulls away from me, won't let me keep control. He pushes into my cunt and my eye slam shat like trapped door. The battle is over.

Mm the pleasure and the memory and the sticky slapping wetness and we fuck and it's good and I beg to turn over and be fucked some more.

He obliges me and I could come in a second. He won't let me though. Of course not, Daddy.

"Not yet".

When I do get to come its delicious and I heat up, and cool down, and we carry on fucking and it's blissful. I start to loose my head.

He manipulates my body, digging his nails into my arse, pushing my back down, making it feel good for him. We carry on until he decides it's over and he's had enough. It's not enough for me right now. I need to fuck more. I need to scratch harder.

I itch and I tear at myself in my head, and I miss the pain and humiliation more than I miss the sex. I need more than he has the desire to give right now.

Who knows... When he gets well, I may well get what I'm after.

Head in under 30 - Chef Michael

I between his legs, on the floor, in front of him.  He raggedly fucks my throat. His hands reign endless slaps against my face. I'm choking, soaking and wet.

Spontaneous Sunday - Chef Michael

I open the door to him, he stands there calm and unabashed. I smile. I can't help it. I pull him into my room and lock the door.

I show him into my world, white washed walls strewn with art, the old varnished, wooden floor. A simple bed. Lit warm in a yellow glow.

We kiss, I'm desperately pulling at his lips. He follows me with his mouth. Entertains my appetite. He makes me feel like a teenager. Illicit and excited.

We sit on the bed and I curl into him
and we continue to kiss. The length and breadth of all our shared intentions are passed from mouth to mouth. He takes off my clothes and runs his hands along my body. His lips find my neck and the pulse in makes in my groin, is exquisite.

With my wrists pinned above my head he raises his body above me and pushes his thigh between my legs. He pushes against me, my pants are starting to soak, as I struggle against his grip trying to rub my desperate cunt into him. I bleat and moan, pleading and pitiful.

I kiss at him desperately. I twist, unlock his belt. Fingers working fevered against the buttons on his cotton jeans, I pull them down, release his cock and grab at it tactlessly. I hold him in my hand as he hardens and I rub him against the sodden lace than clings to the lips of my cunt. We rut and rub against each other, like some frustrated youth. Not quite sure how to move forward.

I pull his hair, kiss him, I beg at him to lick me and taste me and he does, in great sweeping mouthfuls of pleasure. Nose and lips and chin imbedded in a lake of white, sticky excitement. I gasp and moan and it feels so good. I implore him to bite me, which he does, sinking his teeth into my thighs and cunt and stomach and yanking them back like he's tearing at meat.

I think, take a piece away and make me bleed.

His mouth finds my cunt again. I ask him if he wants to fuck me. I take him briefly in my mouth before I bend my legs back and hook them against a cavity in the wall. Cunt pointed towards the ceiling light, white and brash and exposed. He pushes deep into me and the climax builds in an instant. Deeper, harder, fuck me harder, make me come. I tell him so, his self restraint cracks open like a fragile little skull and all the liquid comes out, and the moment happens, and our bodies fall into one another like dust.

Shake. A breath. Movement. Embrace. Clean up. Call the downtime what you want. It's sweet and not the story that the voyeur wants to see. Not what I need to remember, or need to forget.

We lie spooned into each other. My cunt beats like a drum. He says he likes it, it's arousing. It's something. I want more. He wraps his hand around my ribs and I stroke his finger tips fantasising about him touching me. I twist my body into his and we start to kiss again. I talk to him. Beg him to touch me, tell him to use me with his hand. Stretch me. Hurt me. I ask him if he'll pleasure me and then use my face to satisfy himself. He switches between stroking me and filling me with his fingers. I cover my hand in my fluids and bring it to our lips. I pass my fingers back and forth between our mouths. Sticky spit and come webs between us. I mutter how much I'm enjoying this and he doesn't disagree.

Back to my cunt.  It's electric and I need to come so badly. He works at me, uses me over and over, finally finds that space that instantly zips my body from closed to open and I tell him I'm going to climax and he rasps at me.

"Do it. Come for me".

The release is exquisite and white. My body feels scientific. A mass of flesh and liquid and combustion.

I shake and vibrate. I open my mouth like a doll. A formless, gaping hole, pink lips and small wild eyes. I whisper at him. Beg him please. He needs little persuasion. He kneels across me and pushes his cock deep into my throat. I choke and splutter. I stare up at him. He watches my face as it bleeds into a creeping fear. Spit oozes from my mouth and clogs my nostrils. I stroke and lick him and take him as he wants, speed, depth. I try my hardest. My eyes run. I gather breath when I can.

I watch him use my body. I feel him use my body. I feel him take away my air. Take everything away.

His eyes are dark, swirling pools. Fuck my throat, hurt me. Come for me. His hand reaches for his cock. His spare hand finds my mouth. He pinches my jaw tightly and wanks his flesh against my lips. I don't want it to be over but it will be. Soon enough. A hot stream of effluvium hits my face. Covers my mouth and my eyes. Cakes my neck. It's exquisite, bathing in such whoredom and humility.

My head is rung free and leaves my body. He lets me go. Gets off me and sits next to me on the bed. I wipe my face. I ask him to hold me. He does. He's warm and I'm thankful.

Sir - Choice

I'm lying next to my Sir. Breathless. An expanse of pale, flat property. He is stroking my pussy in exquisite repetition. I know I am wet and ready but is he? Is he ready. It's his choice. It's always his choice. I am his choice and I love him.

Michael 3#

We're lying in bed together,  it's dark, there's been talk about sleeping. He spoons into me and starts to stroke my back and shoulders. It's irresistible. I melt into him and he hardens against the cheeks of my bottom.

He hand slides around and begins to caress my breasts, run up to my throat and squeeze hard, cutting the air.

He pulls me into him. I twist my neck, kissing, desperate, he pushes his body on top of mine and pins my arms above my head. I struggle desperately against him. He holds me down. He pushes his thigh into my soaking groin. I writhe. Mewling, bleating, keeping the pressure on my cunt. I buck and strain and try to escape until the energy leaves my body and I give in.

He wants me to ask him. He wants me to admit defeat. He wants me to beg. I won't. I will. I do.

"Please touch me".

He smirks.

"Please".

He lets my hands go and sinks his teeth into my breasts. Biting and sucking my nipples, his teeth score down my body. Leaving marks and bruises as he gnaws my thighs and cunt. His tongue finds my clit. Sucks. Flicks. I cry out, it's exquisite.

His fingers find my hole and he begins to thrust them inside me. I sit up and kiss his mouth. Wet and salted and tasting of sex. It's intense and brain warping. The room is dark. He brings me to a heady, loud climax by rubbing his fingers into internal points of pleasure. Aching and coming on and on, I let go and soak his hands.

I make him come afterwards. He plunges his digits into my spent cunt as I suck on him. He spanks my arse. He fucks my throat and spurts his seed all over the roof of my mouth. We fall asleep together in a half embrace. A good night.  A good weekend.

Michael 2#

He is over my chest fucking my mouth. His cock jamming repeatedly down my throat. Every time he does this now he pushes me harder. I think it's a test. For him not me.

I can't escape. I'm crying this time. Genuine tears. I'm scared and I can barely breath. Makeup drips down my face, my cheeks are red. My eyes pop. He's given up on holding back. He hits me hard across the face. Several times. My ears ring. He doesn't stop gagging me. His hand finds my throat. He doesn't stop hurting me. He isn't going to stop. I don't want him to.

When he decides that he wants to come, he jams his fingers into my mouth and pulls down my jaw, he pushes down hard underneath my tongue and jerks his cock all over my open maw. He ejaculates and smears it into my eyes and hair. Breathing heavy and looking down at me. His body shakes and weakens. I am soaking and electric.

He's dazed. I'm in tears. It's sweet.

Michael 1#

I have my head in his lap and he's been petting my skin for a long while.

He pulls at the material of my top, to grope and feel my breasts.

He runs his hand down between my legs and starts to stroke the outer lips of my cunt. I take down my pants.

Silky, gentle slides of his finger tips up and down. I remember saying I enjoyed this, some time, somewhere. This is why I like him, he takes pleasure and runs with it.

He strokes me continuously, small pauses when my breathing gets too sharp and hard, he lets me settle,  then starts again. I'm not sure how long this goes on for. A long while. Im starting to get frustrated, aroused, writhing and furrowing my brow.

The veil of plump and engorged outer flesh holds back a damn of silken, liquid. I'm turned on and up to the max.

I can't stop the desperate breaths, the little moans, the frustration and then finally. Finally after an hour or what it was, of gentle petting, he parts my lips and plunges his fingers into my soaking cunt.

I cry out in relief. He thrusts and rubs his thumb against my clit, leans over and draws me into a kiss, I twist and writhe, my reactions causing him to get hard. He pulls his cock roughly from his slacks and pushes it towards my mouth. I lick and suck as best I can as he continues to rub at me, build me up and excite me.

I pull him in, breathless, hoarse and desperate.

"Fuck me. I need you to take me to bed and fuck me, I need it. I need your cock in my pussy. Please. God. Can we?"

"Get up".

I dart quickly to his room. He follows.  I pull off my top, he yanks down his pants and his cock bobs freely. I suck it eagerly. Take him into my throat for a few seconds. He pushes me back, rubbers up and plunges his cock into my cunt.

No thoughts. No choice. I need to come right now. He fucks me hard, harder, it can only have lasted a few minutes. It doesn't matter how long it lasted. I tell him I'm going to come and I do in a loud moan and deep contractions. His orgasm follows shortly after.

We blend into each other. A sweating hot mess on the bed, intensity pulsing and radiating from our skin. A heated climax after so much temptation. So desperate, so done, so over.

15 small words - the cyclist

You fill all three holes for the first time. I come hard... and thats good

Blow job? (Michael)

He has got me pinned to the bed, he's on top of me, kissing. He pins my wrists above my head. I fake some great escape, I don't fight too hard, but he's stronger than me anyway. He's slobbering on me, biting me, he pulls my top down and I hear some stitching snap. He pulls out my breasts and twists my nipples in his finger tips. I squeak piteously in pain. My cunt is getting wet.

He moves his body towards my face. Uses his knees to hold down my shoulders. I cannot move now. I hear the crack of his button and zip and he pulls out his cock. Hard and twitching. Silken with pre-cum. He unceremoniously pushes himself into my mouth. I begin to suck.

I love to suck but sucking isn't enough. He jams his cock down my throat. Again and again and again. I begin to choke and splutter. My face is starting to cover in my own spit and I can barely breath. He wraps his hand around my throat and pushes down hard. The feeling is intense. It's difficult staying in the room. I can hear that rushing ocean sound as blood pours out of my brain.

He trades his options, wraps his fingers around the back of my head and into my hair, yanks me upright towards his cock. My neck strains and hurts. I'm afraid right now. It feels amazing. Makeup is smeared down my face. My eyes cry and water as my pursed lips slide up and down the length of him.

He pulls his hand back. Drops my head onto the pillow with a light thud and starts to smack me against the cheek. Softer then hard. Good and hard. I love it. He's stopped caring about me now. I look at his face. Im
half in ecstasy, half begging it to be over.

He stares at me wild. He looks past me, through me, straight at me, clear and transparent, nothing and no one. Everything in that moment.

He mutters at me in a growl.

"Open your mouth".

I open my lips as wide as I can. He tightly pinches my jaw and rests the base of his palm against the centre of my throat. I choke and cough in discomfort. I watch him slide his free hand up and down his cock. The energy and tension is palpable. I snivel and my face itches, it's so difficult to breath. I want him to come so badly, I want to taste him so much, I want to pass out and wake up and for it never to stop.

And so he does. I close my eyes. He completely covers my face in effluence. Im a canvas and a slut and mess of degradation. He uses his cock to smear it into my eyes and his hand to scrunch it into my hair. I moan, confused, excited, fearful and gratified. Sad it's over.

I open my eyes. He's looking down at me, a gentle spent calm has filled him up. I fix my gaze with his, he smiles at me and hocks a hard gob of spit into my eyes.

I remember that moment for the rest of the evening, every time I touch him or he touches me or fucks me. I think about that and I come so hard.

Poem about/for Michael

We talk a lot. Endless messages, it's hot.
Sometimes I ask for pictures of your aching cock.

Hard and eager for my waiting mouth.
Easy on my words, and yours, my hand moves south.

And it's some constant electric fantasy.
Thinking about you and me.
And the things you do to me.
And the way you fuck me,
Hold my neck and squeeze,
And breath,
And I plead,

For an eager taste of flesh.
I ache and squirm under the duress.
Of the conversation.

I wait, you wait. A ticking day
It's hours, until I can come to play.

We talk about what you want and like,
The kinks that make my heart rate spike.

About us fucking, rutting. Stimulation.
Im here in my anticipation.
My breath is short in exhalations.
A quick climactic confiscation.
A self sub optimal recreation.

Thinking about you and me
And the things you do to me
The way you fuck me
Not long now

My sir, my owner, consent is never consensual

"Why are you raping me?".

"Because I can".

"It hurts".

"I know. I like hurting desperate little whores like you".

Finding your feet (Michael)

Toys spread holes wider and easier and make other holes tighter. This is a fun game. I come as you expand and finger me.

You're finding your feet now. You're gripping my face. It's hard to resist sliding your cock into my mouth when it's inches from my lips, and my head is in your lap. Yours touching me, groping me. You're starting to really get off on the force and direction. You feel so hard in my throat. You mutter expletives and breath heavy.

Later on, I'm on your bed, naked wet and wanting. You lean across my shoulders and repeatedly fuck me throat. You tell me after what ticks in your brain. You say you like the look of lust in my eyes and then that devolves into fear as I start to choke for breath. You say I smile sometimes, when you pull back and let me breath. I'm sure I do. It's all a wash of beauty and desire for me. The control and the fear are gladly received.

You call me a slut and a whore and desperate and it's true enough, I'm probably all of those women right now.

You come hilted deep in my cunt. Your body a crumbling, bent, sweat dripped, mess of pleasure. My eyes are wide and lost. You make me climax aggressively, by stretching me out again. The evening comes in full circle.

A little pain, a lot of longing

He repeatedly hits me with the leather flogger. It stings and burns my cunt and arse. Silence. Yelps. Snivels. All those noises. I miss the pain.

The fuck is overdue. Easy. I come a couple of times. It feels good as always. It always feels good. I could have carried on but he wouldn't let me.

Flops in a heap next to me on the bed. He won't let me make him come. I miss that too.

Piss poor performance

"Do you remember me pissing into your mouth at the party last night?"

"No..."

"You were pretty drunk"

"Tell me about it"

"Well I needed to go but you were taking too long so I thought, I've got a perfectly good toilet right here. There was a lot of it. I big long stream".

"Did I manage to swallow it all?"

"You struggled. There was piss all over your face and your chin. It was hot".

"I wish I could remember".

"Well don't worry, it'll probably happen again soon".