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.
Tuesday, 25 February 2014
Monday, 10 February 2014
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.
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.
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