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Imagined

By: Blue_Dahlia



When you come home from the long, humid day in the city I will be waiting for you. Taking your hand, watching the anticipation on your face, I lead you to bed. 

"I am the only sustenance you need, darling. Forget everything but me."

I can plainly see your hunger. But only answer it with a silent smile. I am wickedly taunting you. Wearing a tight T-shirt with my nipples just barely visible through the lace and white cotton. A pale mauve skirt cut just above the knee, you know under it I have the most delicate slip of silk thong panties. The smell of my perfume is dabbed in discreet points so that I exude the smell of sex. Your pulse begins to canter.

I slowly undo each button of your shirt, the tips of my fingers brushing your chest. Sliding my palms into the crisp cotton, sweeping out, the shirt folds back to reveal your chest to my gaze. Standing so near, you can smell the heat rising off my skin. Leaning into you, pressed close, I kiss your neck, drawing my tongue up to your ear. The warmth of my breath spreading from the back of your neck to your legs. With a languid stroke, I trace the point of my tongue around the outer shell of your ear. Then move down to kiss your jaw then your chin the collarbone and its indentation (but not your mouth, later darling, later). 

My hands smooth the bristle of your chest, to rest on your nipples; forming each to a gentle triangular point, licking an orbital pattern I work my way to taking them into my mouth, one by one. My nose grazing you, my hands on your rib cage. 

Unhurriedly, I drop to my knees. My humid mouth feathering your belly. I can see that you are hard already, straining against the confines of your clothing. I undo your belt, the button, and fly. Watching your face, my blue eyes steady, I ease your pants off your hips to slide to the ground. Your underwear follows, freeing you so that your cock nearly tangles in my hair. Grasping the base of you, I coax you to my lips, my tongue darting out to moisten them. Rubbing your head I circle my mouth, following the path of tongue, then lick to taste you. Using the roughness to rub that tender, sweet spot at the cleft where your head meets your cock. 

Do you moan now? Swaying with the flood of need, do you close your eyes? Do you expect me to take you in my mouth and swallow you? Tsk tsk, not yet, Darling. 

Rising, I stand in front of you, mocking you with my detachment. My lips glistening, I am taunting you. Seeing if you will take me. 

With an inaudible growl, you step towards me. Grasping the hair at the base of my neck, you jerk me towards you. Your mouth covers mine. Your kiss is persuasive and probing. One hand scrapes at my clothing, lifting my T-shirt, breaking the kiss only to pull it over my head, revealing the lace of my bra. With a flick of your hand, you cup a breast and bite my nipple from pink too red, hungering to expose the other. I love this rage, Darling, the touch of pain with the pleasure you bring. I no longer am able to be detached. But now meet your fierce passion with an equal fervor.

Raising the hem of my skirt, you pull aside my panties to stroke the shocking damp of me. 

"You are so wet. Do you want me baby?"

Whimpering for you to touch me more, you kiss me to silence. Falling into the sheets, your hands free me from the last remnants of clothing. Leave a glistening trail along the line of my panties only to tear them away. Now, skin to skin, and I can feel the hardness of you against my thigh. Throbbing, you grind my leg to appease the pain. Your violent mouth tattooing my throat and breasts, I clutch your head to me. 

Can you feel me there with you? The pervading intoxicating scent of my perfume. My skin is so soft and fluid under you. Each breast is yearning for you to seize it, nipples pleading for your mouth. Pressing me down, you devour each curve of my body. Wanton and writhing, I arc into you, to fit the bow of your body. I want you. I want the thrill of you entering me. But you refuse to let me twist to do so. Placing one knee between my legs to bar entry, you experience all my surfaces. Moving your hand from breast, to belly, to my pussy, you sense the currents under my skin. I enjoy you watching me, watching the effect you have on me, the pleasure I take in you. With your fingers stroking me you can feel how swollen and aroused I have become. I love to be touched like this. To have the nub of my clit rubbed gently, pinched, rolled between thumb and index finger, and long strokes of exquisite sensation. I could cum for you now, with the slightest provocation, but you scatter your rhythm and make me endure more. 

Entering me with one long finger, then two, you slide into my depths and feel me clench into this violation. Breath broken, my nipples erect, I pant for more. Plead and whisper for more of you, your name a chant leaving my starving lips.

"Please." "Please."

"What is it you want, say it. I need to hear you ask me."

"Please taste me. Please. I want to feel your mouth on my pussy."

Easing down to feel the smooth cleft, the craving I have burning there that only your mouth will quench. As your sweet tongue takes it's first taste what is it you feel? Does some part of you snap or do you stay in control, precise in extricating this sweet cruelty? I am almost lost to the feelings traveling my body. I delight the sensations of you biting and suckling, the serpentine flick of your tongue, melting me into your mouth to be swallowed greedily. I am undone with this assault and oblivion beckons. Cupping my cheeks, you raise my hips to dip your tongue into the deep of me. 

"Oh god."

I moan and buck my hips in offering, feeling this moment of pure bliss. I am so wet now, raging. Sliding your fingers into me, a promise of more to come, you ask me: "What do you want, Gabrielle, tell me." 

"Show me how you want to fuck me."

Circling me, your fingers wet and slick, you repeat the question, wanting me to surrender.

"I want to feel you, I want to feel you."

With a slow slide you push into me, my moan of easement driving you on, coaxing the truth from my body. Two fingers now, so tight, you need to stretch me, your tongue again torturing my clit. I begin the build to climax, repeating your name, murmuring then spoken with more urgency. 

When I cum for you, it is in quick shudders, my body arching away from you. Grasping my thighs to steady me, you bruise my tender white skin. Ferociously pinning your mouth to my equally bruised pussy you keep me under the limpet of your mouth. Throbbing, pulses of such finite pleasure, I tremble with the spasms and already you push me further. 

Flipping me over you pull me to the edge of the bed, now standing you enter me. Hard. Hard. I can feel every sinew of your cock as it slides in my complete wet, slick and hot. 

"You don't know what you do to me baby."

Your hands on my ass, you burry your cock deeper in my pussy. Reaching forward you cup my breast, causing me to rise up, pressing my back into your chest. Turning my face to kiss you, I can taste myself on your lips. Eyes glazed, you are abandoned inside of me.

What do you say into my hair? What words do you use to describe this lust, your demands and your promises? 

I twist away from you, wanting to feel you as you fuck me. Pushing you down, I throw my knee over you so that I may ride you. Raised above you, hair wild, lips parted, I am your succubus. I guide you, slowly at first, stroking the head of your cock against myself, then more quickly. Your breath becomes threaded, eyes drinking me in. I dip just your head, never going in too far, teasing you. If you try and deepen the stroke, I hold back again. Punishment for your actions, Darling. I smile and then go deep, deeper still, just to remind you of the rewards for good behavior. Moaning you push back into the bed, eyes closed.

"Yes."

No. I want you to want me with an all-consuming passion. I want you to be starved. And so I play some more. Asking you: "Do you want me, darling?"

My hair brushing your forehead, I kiss you, biting your lips. I sink onto you, enveloping you. Your hands on my hips pacing me. I take pleasure in this position, to feel everything while watching you fuck me. Palm to palm, you support my hands so that I may stroke you longer, deeper. My hands and mouth visit your skin to taste and arouse you more. 

Angry at my games, you flip me onto my back. Pining my wrists above me, you spread my hips open, wide, so that you may see me in full excitement. Breasts so tender, my mouth inflamed from your constant attacks. I wait for you, like a good girl. Piercing me with your hardness, my eyes flash, drinking in the man who consumes me. Wrapping my legs around your hips, I push you into me further.

"Do you like how THIS feels, baby?"

"Shut up, shut up and just fuck me."

Wild now, you rattle me. Shake loose any shards of the ice queen left un-melted, lap them and sweat them out onto me. Will I cum now? I do not know, are you man enough to make me?

I love to feel this possession. The complete surrender to you, to the fact that you are plundering and remnants of the woman left untouched. I feel the tension coil in your thighs, the coming orgasm. The grip you take on my body, fingers digging into my softness, hips thrusting. Is your climax intense? Will you call my name? Will you cum inside of me or will you smear it across my belly? Or will you suddenly jerk out of me and push my head down to suck your cock so that you feel the soft of my lips, the warmth of my mouth as I taste myself on you? When you cum, moaning in pleasure, demand that I swallow you. Licking my lips will I ask you for more?

I want you.

I want you.

I want you.

I want you.

Imagined Horrors



Full of breasts and hips and wide of thigh, the women in the artwork of Georges Pichard (1920-2003) somewhat resemble those of the expatriate underground comics illustrator Robert Crumb. Like Crumb, Pichard also puts his damsels in distress through their paces, and his treatment of them is often cruel, punitive, and degrading. In Pichard's world, there is no doubt but that men are in charge; they take their dominant social and political status so much for granted that they never bat an eye when they subject women to their brutal and pitiless, usually humiliating and vicious, behavior.

In one picture, a maid brings a tray bearing a bottle of wine and a full goblet to a man who is dressed in a suit, a tie, and wingtip shoes. The maid wears nothing but a flower in her hair and an apron that is too small to conceal either her breasts or her hairless labia. Feathers from the duster inserted through her anus make her appear even more ridiculous than her immodest dress alone would be apt to do. However, the man, smiling as he reaches for the glass of wine on the tray, reveals no sense of consciousness regarding anything improper in the woman's attire. Moreover, he takes no notice of the woman, dressed in the manner of a child, who kneels before him, wearing a hat, a dress, socks, and shoes, servicing the erection that juts from the open fly of his trousers, while, her hands clasped before her, the very picture--but for the presence of the penis and her act of fellatio--of innocence and modesty.

It is a rare occasion, indeed, when the vagina and the anus of a woman in a Pichard illustration is not occupied by a penis or a penis substitute, and the French artist is nothing if not innovative and imaginative in his use of phalli for this purpose: metal pins, tongues, funnels, dildos, pumps, pipes, cucumbers, nozzles, broom handles, fingers, phallic hydrant arms, spindles, flowers, feather dusters, posts, stringed beads, jacks, a tube to a bellows, wooden stakes, scepters, metal rods, and even the horn of a gramophone are some of the instruments that he substitutes for the penis. Frequently, their diameters are uncomfortably, even painfully or dangerously, large. 

For the victims, punishment and torture are always the ends, not sexual pleasure, and many of the unfortunate women in Pichard's drawings are pierced through the nasal septum, the tongue, the nipples, the labia, the navel, and such other body parts as the breasts and the upper arms, so that they might be fitted with straight pins, safety pins, rings, bells, and padlocks.

In one picture, a woman's labia are sewn shut, and, in several others, one or more women sport lacerations from having been whipped or exhibit the scars of their owners' branding irons. They wear fetters, manacles, and chains, or are kept in narrow cages or in wooden stocks. They may also be punished by having wooden stakes or a metal pins hammered up their anuses; by being forced to sit upon sharp metal projections; by being suspended by the wrists or ankles from ropes or chains; by having their feet draped over the trapezes to which they are bound by their wrists; by being bound in a back-bending, doubled-over position; by being penned inside a close, narrow cage; by being hoisted by their ankles on a pulley while their wrists are bound behind their backs; by having their wrists bound to their ankles while they are lying prone; by being bound back to back with another woman; by being spread eagled upside down; by being bound in a fetal position; by being shackled atop an anus-penetrating device; by being chained with hooks or rings through the tongue, nipples, or labia; by being burned with irons heated in live coals; by having floods of water poured through funnels inserted into their mouths or rectums; or by being subjected to a variety of other torments and tortures.

In one scene, a well-whipped naked woman performs fellatio upon a portly gentleman in a bowler hat, suit, and tie, while, seated in a chair, he watches a woman in a short, skin-tight dress, her nipples erect, torture another, younger nude woman. The hapless victim lies upon her shoulders, her arms secured behind her back, a triangular bar gouging into the small of her back, with her right leg, doubled under her, its foot nailed to the wooden platform upon which she lies and out of which arises a wooden post.

Her left leg, extended alongside the pillar, is held in place against it by thick metal bands around her thigh, calf, and ankle which are attached to her by metal pins that run through both the bands and her leg. The victim cannot lower her head to the floor, because a rope around her neck extends to her labia, where its end is attached to a sharp metal hook that curves into the top of her vagina; if she lowers her head, the resulting tension will tighten the little slack in the rope, causing the hook to sink into the tender tissues of her sex.

Nor is this the extent of the victim's suffering, for her female tormentor turns a lever that causes a sharp cone to drill slowly into the muscle in the back of the victim's calf, while, at the same time, drawing the metal band around her lower leg closer and closer to the post so that her leg must break in at least two places--calf and ankle. A third woman looks on, her lips sewn shut around a length of wood.

Claustrophobic closeness is a feature of many of these drawings. In one, a nude woman, arms bound behind her back, kneels inside a vertical cage that, fitted with short legs, is less than three feet high. Its width and depth are only a little larger than those of her body. The top of the cage is equipped with a space through which her head fits. She watches another naked woman, chained to the ceiling by fetters on her wrists, her arms bent painfully behind her back, hop and skip as she is thrashed by a man wielding a heavy cane.

In another drawing, a naked woman, a metal pipe inserted through her anus and well into her rectum; her labia pierced and closed by a padlock; the ring at the lower end of a chain inserted through her clitoris and the hook at the upper end of the same chain piercing her tongue;, the backs of her thighs branded, the left with a "P," the right with an "M," has her left leg bent over her shoulders. The other leg extends to her front, bending at the knee, and is held aloft by its being joined to her raised right arm by a manacle that bridges the space between both extremities. Her other arm is also raised, and joined by a horizontal bar to its elevated twin.

The effect of these chains, manacles, and bars is to keep her rolled into a ball. She is unable to lift her head (without tearing both her tongue and her clitoris); she is unable to lower her arms or legs; she is unable to straighten her spine or reduce the pressure on her creased and folded belly; and she is unable to adjust her weight or shift her position. When the front of the box she occupies is closed, she is in utter silence and visible, if at all, only through the small, round window cut into the front of the door. To look at this and similar pictures is to gaze into the claustrophobic hell of extreme discomfort from cramped paralysis inside close and stifling spaces and to know, once and for all time, what being not only imprisoned but also trapped truly means.

Sexually, these damsels in distress are compelled to service men (and less often, other women) by submitting to anal, oral, or vaginal intercourse. Sometimes, they must participate in all these acts simultaneously, with groups of men and women. One woman will sometimes assist a man, holding his cock to the other, younger woman's mouth and placing a hand atop the fellatrice's head as she services her lord and master or thrusting a broom handle or other object back and forth through her anus or vagina while she performs fellatio.

Women also defecate and urinate to provide food and drink for other women's consumption. Urine is not only a beverage in Pichard's pictures, but it is also a body wash of sorts, for many women urinate copiously upon younger, helpless female victims. Semen, too, is a common nectar.

The masturbation of women, by themselves and one another, is a common amusement, performed, again, for the benefit of voyeuristic men more than for the satisfaction of the masturbators themselves. In a few drawings, Pichard has experimented with sex between women and such animals as a donkey, a pig, a ram, a chimpanzee, an ape, and a dog.

Pichard drew many pictures if women being tortured, and the imagination behind his grueling scenes is not only fascinating, but it is also both monstrous and horrific. What would make a man so relentlessly picture such tormenting punishments? A Freudian view of his art would suggest, certainly, a hatred for the opposite sex, for such loathing is evident in the specificity and the complexity of the torture devices and their effects that his work delights to show. The engines of torture, and the torture itself, as horrible as they are, are not what horrifies the viewer most. That claim goes to the mind that envisioned such abuse--that of the artist Georges Pichard himself--and to those of the individuals who view and are amused by such abuse--those of mine and, perhaps, of yours. 



Imagining



As you read this, I expect you to be in position for the final part of one of our "conversations." Face down on your bed, bare bottom over the pillows, pajama bottoms down around you knees, legs spread as far as the bottoms will allow, waiting. Waiting to hear my footsteps, knowing what that sound means, dreading and anticipating at the same time. The sudden clenching of your cheeks, feeling the thick smearing of vaseline between them. Recalling how I made you watch in the mirror as I lubricated you back there, my gloved finger approaching, the thick blob of vaseline on the end, and then the forcible penetration of your most intimate tightness. "Your face to the mirror as I prepare you. Imagine how much a man enjoys preparing you there." My words still echo through your imagination don't they? Your imagination ... And your sex.

As you lie there, reading what I'm writing, you are hearing me behind you, looking down at your bare bottom, your tight round buttocks red and sore from the strapping I administered, the horizontal marks of the strap still emblazoned across your rump. You and I are both recalling your pleas, your protestations .. And then the sound of the strap meeting your upturned posterior. How many times did it take? More than 20 -- and you were so sure that it would only be 20 weren't you? -- more than 50, for I *require* that your behind is on fire when I take your pants down. Was it 100, so many that you thought you couldn't bear it anymore, but of course I knew that you could. That you HAD to, because your pleasure of release would be all the greater for the pain and severity of my control. Your release, more extreme when I am deep inside your resisting behind, when the touch of my hips against your chastised backside is unbearable, but you are made to bear it anyway. Is the belt laying on the table at the side of your bed? Does it hang in your closet, so that you see it ever night as you undress, thinking about how it is used?

Your mind slips back to the events of the day, remembering my call in the early morning, my flight arriving at 6 ... And the shudder of anticipation and fear in your tummy when I told you that it would be a "difficult" session that evening. Dressing for work, stockings and garters, skirt, the panties to come off as soon as the day was done. Cleanshaven, front and back, between your cheeks. Knowing that I would slip my hand down between your legs and slide a finger up between your cheeks to check.

Did you moisten thinking about what would happen when we met? Our trip to the drugstore, for you to purchase the instruments of your correction. Did I make you bend down to get the enema bag? Were you painfully aware of your vulnerability as you did so? Your skirt rising up in back, showing me the backs of your stockings, then the soft white flesh with the garters attached, then rising higher still to expose the lower cheeks, still white, soon to be crimson?

Lying face down, are you thinking about the enema? Having to go over my lap, face down, to feel the nozzle sliding into your behind? A washout, did I make you repeat the word? Lying there, waiting, completely under my control, knowing that only the clamp on the tube stood between you and the warm soapy water swelling the bag above your head. Hearing me tell you that a complete cleaning out was a necessary prerequisite to sodomy, and that I expected your best behavior.

Do your cheeks involuntarily tense when you hear the CLICK of the clamp opening? The rush of water invading your bowels. Do you imagine the sight you present to me, bare bottom red, the large plastic nozzle impaling your behind, the hose rising at a lewd angle to the rapidly emptying bag above you. Are your eyes on the bathroom door already? Wondering whether I will allow you privacy for the expulsion, or whether I will have you do it in front of me while I refill the bag, convinced that you are not yet clean enough for my purposes. My soft kind voice, the knowledge of my control and the incredible excitement and fear it causes.

And now you feel me coming towards you, preparing to sodomize you, long and hard and deep. I intend it to last a long time, and I expect your orgasm to be fierce. I want to feel your behind spasming on my stiffness, arousing me to even greater tumescence, feeling the swelling back there as you writhe from peak to peak, the intensity of your eruptions growing with each mountain you climb. Coming, coming, coming, a pattern that continues without end until MY eruption, deep into the condom in your violated bottom.

You are thinking about it. Face down on the bed, with your pajama bottoms at your knees ...



Imagining



I'm lying on my bed naked. My body heat is rising because I'm thinking of you.

Imagining that my hands are your hands, I run my hands over my breasts and tweak my nipples. I close my eyes, as I run my hands down my body. I feel myself getting wet as I trace my outer lips with my fingers.

I take one hand and I spread open my outer lips. Then, I take the index finger on my other hand, and I dip it into my pussy. Once the finger is covered with juices, I bring it up to my clit and begin to rub it nice and slow.

Mmmm, thoughts of you swirl around in my head, as I rub and pinch on my little clit....I can feel my juices dripping down onto the bed. 

All of a sudden, I can feel my orgasm starting to rise in the pit of my stomach....I start to twitch and convulse and thrash around on my bed...as I cum over and over again.

Exhausted from my multiple orgasms, I lay back and close my eyes for a few seconds.

When I open my eyes, I see you standing there in the doorway of my room. You look at me and you smile. You peel off your clothes, and walk over to the bed and sit down next to where I am laying. You stroke my hair and my face, and tell me how beautiful I am. Then you plant the longest, most passionate kiss on my lips.

You take your hands,and you start to stroke and play with my breasts. You position yourself on top of me, and you kiss my face, my lips, my neck,all the way down to between my breasts. You then, push my breasts together and begin sucking and lick on them at the same time. I run my hands through your hair, and beg you to go lower.

You lick and kiss your way down to my stomach. I'm doing everything I can to contain my excitement. You nibble and play with my tummy for a while, until I beg and plead with you to go lower.

You take your time licking and kissing my outer lips. You open them up and gently run your tongue over my still erect clit

I gasp with pleasure and I thrust my hips up to meet your amazing tongue my juices are dripping out and you're lapping them up like a good boy.

I grab the back of your head, and I shove your face into my pussy as I start to cum over and over You're darting your tongue in and out of my sopping wet pussy as I shake and convulse under you 

I beg you to fuck me I tell you that I need you so bad and that I wanna feel your hot, massive cock inside of me.

You lift yourself up and put my feet on your shoulders, you don't enter my pussy right away. You know you've made me crazy and you wanna keep it going for a few seconds You take the head of your cock, and rub it over my clit and I start to thrust a little for you.

Then, you gently ease your magnificent cock, into might tight wet pussy I grab your ass trying to get all of you in, but you manage to slow me down, and ease your cock in inch by inch.

You moan as you feel how tight and wet and warm I am, and adjust to the feeling of your cock being wrapped so tightly in my little pussy. 

I can feel you in me so deep, the head of your cock pushing against my cervix. 

I hold onto your ass we ease into a perfect steady pace. 

You look down and you watch my body as I'm moving with you, and I flex my pussy muscles around your cock.

The pace increases and our breath becomes heavy and uneven we're starting to fuck really good and hard by now I'm screaming your name and you're begging me to come on your cock.

My pussy starts to twitch around you and milk you of your cum. 

You're thrusting so deep and hard I'm beginning to become delirious from the pleasure of it all.....I moan and writhe underneath you and you kiss me so good and hard. 

You can feel my pussy juices as they drip out over your cock I start to cum really hard and beg you to cum with me as I can feel your cum rising from the stem of your cock.

AND THEN..... ALL OF A SUDDEN....

I feel you shoot your hot load into me I feel it drip out of my pussy...onto the bed, mixing with my juices.

We both lay there completely mesmerized, with you still inside of me. You have your head on my shoulder...and as your fall asleep I stroke your hair and tell you how amazing you are.



Imagining



It promised to be at least almost like every other night. The heavy bass would lift up his spirits enough to drag him through the rest of the tedious work week and into the weekend, which would lead, of course, into another equally tedious work week. 

He walked into the low lit club and began pushing his way through the crowd toward the bar, allowing his eyes to adjust to the darkness slowly. "One beer please", he shouted to the man behind the bar. 

He paid with exact change and took a big swig as he turned around to survey the crowd. Although it was relatively early, the crowd had already moved into that frenzied state of the evening that indicated that it was going to get very hot and sweaty very soon. This wasn't very surprising, considering they were in a city contradicted by its party culture and pre midnight curfew. 

He began to weave through the crowd, trying to get as close to the booming speakers as he could. He was drinking his beer quickly, eager to put the empty bottle down so he could begin to move his feet to the pounding bass-line.

And that was when he saw her. 

She was swinging her arms and hips in wide circles in time to the music and her somewhat short somewhat curly hair hung around her, so he could not tell what her face looked like. The way she moved was like an expression of a deeper, heavier, more animal sentiment and he stood there watching her, not quite sure why he was staring the way he was. And then there was a break in the music and she slowed down and lifted her hair up, her face raised to the strobe lights flashing onto the floor. Her eyes were closed and her face glistened with sweat. Her mouth, slightly open, was thick and round and immediately he wanted her lips wrapped around his cock. The music changed and he realised with partial amusement that he had a raging hard-on. He knew he had to have her. 

Later on that night, he lay in bed, stroking his drunken horniness, thinking of her body -- the way her breasts bounced when she danced, the way her easy hip movements said she would know how to fuck him if she straddled him, the way she rubbed her hands along her body as she danced, unselfconscious of how she reeked of sex. 

He imagined her there in his room with him, taking off her clothes and standing over him. He imagined taking her heavy breasts in his hands, squeezing her nipples and licking them, running his hands along the curve of her back and butt, caressing and pinching her round flesh. He closed his eyes and began to move his hands faster. In his head he could almost see what she would look like, down on her knees, her tongue lapping at the head of his penis, her hands pumping the shaft. Her mouth would be soft and warm, her breath coming out in hot gasps as she got turned on by the pleasure he felt from her teasing licks. Then, as she took him into her mouth he would reach down with one hand and start to massage her tits, running his thumb over her hard nipples, while with his other hand he'd grab the back of her hair and push her head down deeper onto his cock, feeling her moaning onto it as she tried to take all of him in. 

He spat on his hand and returned it to stroking his cock, the wetness meant to imitate her wet mouth. He knew she would love sucking his cock; she would look up at him with her big eyes heavy with lust as her gag reflex kicked in and she would have to pull away, strings of saliva still connecting her lower lip to his head. Then she would tell him to fuck her hard as she lay down and spread her thighs wide, baring her pussy to him. He imagined what her pussy would look like -- whether she would be completely hair free or if she would have a wild full bush. He pictured her lying there, looking up at him with her mouth slightly open, her tongue slipping out and running along her lips. 

He would run his hands over her breasts and down her belly and onto her inner thighs. Then he would run one finger down her slit, feeling the wetness brimming inside. He would slip in his fingers slowly, making her squirm and thrust her hips up for more. But he would tease her, spreading her pussy lips far apart and exposing her throbbing sex to the cool air. Her clitoris would be swollen and he would flick his tongue over it quickly and then slowly, driving her crazy with the need to be penetrated in one more orifice by his manhood. Then when her eyes were closed and her head thrown back in ecstasy he would quickly enter her, shocking her eyes wide open, taking her over the brink and into an orgasm, thrusting hard and fast as she came in waves, her body bucking as her pussy clenched tighter and tighter around his cock. 

He came then, an involuntary grunt escaping from his throat as his hot cum shot out and spilled over his hand and wrist. He wished she was there to lick him clean.



Imagining Him



I opened my e-mail and saw the instructions you sent and wiggled in my chair with anticipation. I was excited and hurried to my room to prepare. In front of the bathroom mirror, I changed out of my clothes and into the mauve-pink camisole and panty set you sent me. I brushed my red hair and pulled it into a high ponytail that left the ends lightly brushing against my bare shoulders. I sprayed on the sensuous perfume you love on me and put on my choker, all as your email had directed me. 

The cold metal against my throat, the smell of the perfume and the feel of the satin made me feel sexy and erotic. I ran my hands down over my body and felt my nipples harden. I liked the look of my hard nipples poking against the satin of the camisole. Smiling, I clicked off the light and went into my bedroom. 

I went to my bedside table and got out my bullet vibrator. Then, as you directed, I got on the bed facing the mirrored closet doors. I got in the position: on my knees, legs slightly parted, back arched and palms on my thighs facing upwards. The position that says I am ready for you, my Sir, and that I accept. I breathed deeply and slowly and began reciting my mantra as I looked into the mirror. 

I imagined hearing the door open and you quietly entering the room. I continue saying my mantra and looking in the mirror, but my heart is beating faster as you walk behind me and remove your clothes. I feel you in the shadows moving toward me. I feel your weight upon the bed. Your fingertips just barely touch my shoulders and glide down my arms, then back up again to caress the side of my neck. I watch your fingers toy with a strand of my copper red hair as you lean in to whisper in my ear.

"You're such a good girl."

"Thank you Sir," I whisper back, my stomach suddenly doing flip-flops at the words I love to hear so much. 

You slide down the straps of my camisole, and my full, heavy breasts come into view. Our eyes meet in the mirror as you reach around, cupping their weight in your hands, giving them a gentle but firm squeeze. I love watching your big hands touching me, squeezing and kneading the creamy white flesh. You take my hardening nipples between your fingers and thumb, pinching them just hard enough that pressure melts into pleasure. They get rock hard and tingles go from my pinched nipples down to my pussy. You lean in and whisper in my ear. 

"Tell me that you're My slut, tell your Dom what you want." 

I close my eyes as I feel a shiver of lust run through my body.

"Yes Sir, I'm Your slut. I want you Sir...I want you to make me cum."

"We'll see. You need to be a good girl first before I decide if My slut should come."

With that, you pinch my nipples harder, twisting them until I cry out with the quick pain. Then you let go and run your hands down my stomach to the tops of my thighs. Your fingers play with the lace edging of my boy cut panties. You slowly move your fingers over the satin towards my pussy. I arch my back more, letting my thighs open a little wider. I want you to touch me so bad. 

You know this of course, so you don't touch the ache that is building, but instead slide your hands around to cup my ass in your palms. You give the cheeks a squeeze and bring your lips to kiss my neck. I tilt my head, watching in the mirror, as I feel your hot breath against my skin and my ass being fondled in your hands. I love feeling your touch, the way you just take what you want from me leave me trembling. 

Your lips kiss my neck and move down to my shoulders, as your hands move back to the front of my panties. My breath catches as you take my ear lobe between your teeth and nibble just enough to make me feel weak with need. Your hand slides between my legs, and you cup my sex in your warm palm. A finger finds my slit and pushes the satin fabric into it. I moan as you bump against my clit and I press my body down wanting to feel the pressure of your fingers. 

"My little girl is very wet. Tell me what you want." 

"I want you Sir. I want to cum." I can barely talk as your finger circles slowly around my clit.

You laugh softly behind me and take your hand off my pussy, moving back up to my nipples where you tweak them and then I feel you grab my ponytail. Your other hand comes up and caresses my cheek. Your lips kiss my ear then you proceed to drive me mad with lust by whispering what you plan to do to me, how you plan to have me writhing and begging you to allow me to cum. 

You tug my ponytail down, tilting my head back. Your other hand lifts my face up, and your mouth comes down hard on my lips. The suddenness of the kiss as you force my mouth open with your tongue is like a bolt of lightning. My lust is driven higher. I must remain still. Your tongue plunges over and over into my mouth, taking my breath away as you hold me tight against you and kiss me with a passion that is filled with the promise of what is to come. I can feel my wetness on the satin panties as you explore my mouth, nibbling and licking my lips. I hear myself moan into you. 

You break the kiss and push me forward so that I am on my hands and knees. Your hand goes beneath me, raising my ass higher as you pull the panties down over my hips. I feel your hand possessing my ass with caresses and lowering to own my cunt with soft strokes. You draw out my wetness, rubbing it up my ass and back down again to my clit. I moan and push against your hand. I try to reach under me, needing to rub my clit. It is so aching for attention that I know it is swollen. 

"No!" Your single command is like a slap and I jerk my hand immediately back to where I had it. 

Then I feel the sting of your hand as you bring it down hard on my ass. First, one cheek, then the other, over and over again, until I am lost to only the delicious feel of sting and need. I hear you breathing faster. I know the sight of my red ass covered in your handprints usually makes you wild with lust.

I feel your soothing touch and feel my mind barely return to normal when your fingers plunge into me. In and out, you pump your fingers into me, the sound and aroma of my juices as my cunt sucks on your fingers almost as loud as my moans and soft cries. 

"Say your mantra, say it as my fingers fuck your hot, little cunt." 

I try to say it, the words that I know like my own name suddenly lost to me. You help me say it as your fingers push in deeper fucking me faster and harder. 

"Tell me you want to cum my Slut. Beg Me to make you cum."

"Oh please Sir, please make me cum!"

"Does your cunt want my cock, Slut."

"Oh yes Sir, please...please fuck Your slut now!"

I beg, looking over my shoulder, my glazed eyes locking onto yours. I try to wiggle back to touch you and open my legs to entice you more. But you see through my attempts to get my way and smack me hard on the ass and tell me to say my mantra and behave. I moan almost in protest but stop and obey, gasping out my mantra as your fingers find my G-spot and rub it hard. 

"Ohhhh God, yes Sir!" 

"Yes My slut, you are ready for me now." 

Your voice is so strong and powerful when you're like this, in Dom mode. It never fails to make my heart pound with desire and create a need to submit fully to you. Love for you floods through me mixing with my lust and I feel my body relax with the knowledge that whatever you do to me is right and what I want.

You pull your fingers from my cunt and replace them swiftly with your cock. I look up into the mirror in front of me, watching the face that I love so much as you thrust your cock deep into my warm, wet pussy. Your eyes close with your pleasure, then open to meet mine in the mirror. You run your hands over my back to my hanging breasts. You squeeze them tight, pinching the nipples so hard that I cry out and rock back harder trying to fuck you. 

I hear the buzzing of my bullet and literally almost jump off your cock as you press it against my clit. You are leaning over my back, thrusting hard into me, holding the bullet at full blast against my clit, and I know I am seconds from exploding. 

"Oh, please Sir, let me cum!" I cry out. 

"Yes My slut, cum now! Cum hard for your Sir NOW!"

Every cell in my body reacts to your commands. I feel my pussy swell and grip your cock. My clit against the bullet is almost too much and then the feeling spreads and melts like a thousand fireworks going off at once. I cry out, shutting my eyes tight as you let the bullet buzz hard on my clitoris and your cock fucks me so deep. My orgasm subsides and you pull out of me taking the bullet away too.

You flip me over unto my back, and I open my eyes just as you bring your cock up to my lips. 

"Suck it slut! Taste your cum on my cock." 

I greedily suck you into my open mouth. My tongue swirls around your shaft and up over the head. I taste my juices that coat your cock and suck harder, taking you in as deep as I can. I can tell you're so ready to cum by the way your hand grasps my hair, and you begin fucking my mouth.

"Oh, you're good at sucking cock My little slut."

Your words fuel me, and I lick and suck your cock, wanting to show you all the love that I have for you right now with my mouth. I move a hand to cup your balls and use my fingers to gently squeeze them. I feel you tighten up as your cock thrusts deeper into my mouth. With a loud groan, you begin to cum. I suck and lick until you're spent and pull your cock from my mouth. 

I smile up dreamily at you as you look down with such a tender look of love. Your hand strokes my cheek as your eyes travel over the body you have just made so happy. 

"Thank you my Slut, you please me so well." 

"Thank you my Sir. Pleasing you is what I live for."

I lie there on my bed looking at the ceiling, my body spent from its orgasm. I lie there thinking of you and how what I am is all Yours. I am Your body ... Your thighs ... Your breasts ... Your ass ...Your cunt. I watch your hands, the hands I love so much when they are touching me, exploring me. I think of your breath on my hot flesh and the feel of your lips following where your hands have touched. I know we will look into each other's eyes and see pure lust and complete love reflecting, each in the other.

I smile but there is a hint of sadness; right now I have my imagination. Soon there will be no need for sadness because you, my Love, my Sir, will walk quietly into our room and real bliss will follow. 

I love you, my Sir!



Imagining My Surprise



Cindy aroused me, that first day, when Nancy brought her new friend by the house. There is something seductive in that woman's eyes, a sultriness that tempted me the moment I saw her. I remember, I was sitting at my desk, pouring over some equations when my wife knocked on the study door and asked me if I knew where the spade was. I didn't even know we had one, and mumbled incoherently, lost in quadratic remainders.

"Ted," Nancy said, a note of complaint in her voice, "was that a 'yes' or a 'no'?" I looked up from my page of symbols and saw the dark woman standing just beyond my fair wife. As quickly, I forgot Nancy's question.

"No," I said, shaking my distraction. 

"Well," said Nancy, "I'm home. We'll be in the garden."

She had probably mentioned Cindy before, but I didn't pay much attention to names of people I hadn't met, so I had no idea who she was. I tried to re-immerse myself in the trap-door formula, but found my thoughts lingering on Cindy, a brief impression which had fixed itself firmly in my mind's eye. She had been standing in the shadows, and there is nothing really exceptional about her beauty, except that she struck me as simply lovely. I closed my book and headed into the kitchen to fix a drink, and then, noticing the sunshine, decided to take a look in the garden. 

The two women knelt in the dirt, laughing, digging a shallow trough in the soil.

"Flowers?" I asked.

"I gave Nancy some strawberry plants," said Cindy. "Mine are overtaking the space I have, and when she mentioned how much she loves strawberries, well, we went out and dug some up."

"Mmm," I said, admiringly, "I love them, too. How long before I can step out back and pluck a fresh berry?"

"Not until next year," said Nancy, placing the first plant into the hole. "I want to put some raspberry bushes over against that," she said to Cindy, pointing toward the cedar fence.

"I love your garden," said Cindy, looking up to smile at me. My heart fluttered, suddenly excited by that look in her eyes. She leaned back on a her arms, pulling her t-shirt tight around her right breast, a perfect fruit in its own right. Her long, lean legs stretched out over the dirt, unafraid to feel the earth on her bare skin. Her shorts fell loose around her tanned thighs, and I found myself trying to spy panties in the slight gap. 

After that sunny day, Cindy dropped by the house regularly, and with each encounter, I found myself more occupied with thoughts of her, in part because she was just an attractive woman, but also because of that seductive look in her eyes, accompanied by a constant leering smile which seemed to invite me to make some move. Nancy never paid the slightest bit of attention to her friend's forwardness, a blindness which slowly eroded any caution in my developing fantasies. By the time the summer began to fade into fall, I thought about Cindy, almost constantly. 

The three of us had dinner together on a Wednesday night, nothing special, Cindy just happened to drop by the house and Nancy asked her to stay. As we ate our garden salad, I caught Cindy's eye, and all at once, I knew I had to have her, and that she wanted me to have her, and that nothing on earth was going to stop us. The dinner passed almost in silence. Tension gripped us all.

I went to the office the next day and sat at my desk all morning in a dreamy state somewhere between fantasy, indecision and madness. After lunch, I called home, hoping a few words from Nancy would dispel my uneasy heart. After three rings, I hung up the phone. I couldn't talk to her. I called Cindy's number. Madness had infected me completely.

I almost sighed with relief when no one answered. As I hung up the phone, I realized I had no idea what to say to Cindy. If she was thinking what I thought she was, I could do a dance of love between her thighs, and probably ruin the marriage I had no reason to destroy. If she wasn't, she would probably tell Nancy, and I'd ruin the marriage, just the same. 

My gun had jammed, and I'd been spared the crime I had so poorly planned.

When I returned home that night, I wanted to make it all up to Nancy. She would never know what I hadn't done, but I was going to give her all the love she deserved, including the love I had almost wasted on another. I found her in the kitchen. As I embraced her, she seemed to shy away.

"I've been thinking about you," I said. "I called, but . . ."

"I was at Cindy's," she blurted out, her voice trembling. 

"This afternoon?"

"Yes," Nancy said, and as quickly started cutting vegetables.

My blood burned through my veins. I tried to tell myself there were a thousand logical explanations, but I could only think of one. I had never known Nancy to lie to me, and never imagined she could ever be unfaithful, but now I faced a colder reality.

I knew I should have just said something, but I couldn't. Nancy seemed so upset that to begin accusing seemed too cruel. Besides, how could I explain the fact that I had called her best friend's house?

There was more to it, I think, than just wanting to catch my wife red-handed in an affair. I loved her deeply, but I was still caught in a state of infatuation for Cindy. I think part of me wanted to justify my own feeling of guilt, so I could indulge myself in a revenge that suited the crime better than just yelling and divorce. If Nancy were cheating on me, fine, I thought, then I can sleep with Cindy.

I'm ashamed to admit it, but I set a trap for my wife. I invented a business dinner for the next Thursday night. I talked about it all week, telling Nancy how much I was dreading it, anticipating the possible promotions that might result, diving into my papers every night to plan every contingency I might encounter.

Late Thursday afternoon, I called home. By this time, I believed Nancy would lie to me. 

"So, how are you going to spend your evening alone?"

"Cindy's coming over. We'll probably go to a movie, or maybe do some shopping. What time will you be back?" 

"Not before nine," I lied. "Maybe later."

"Well," she said. "Good luck."

"Yeah," I replied coolly. "Thanks, sweetheart."

I drove home at once and parked in the church lot a few blocks from our house. I wanted to be there to see whatever was going to happen. My whole body trembled as I walked toward our house. I hid in the thick hedges that flanked the end, and settled uncomfortably to lean against the wall, crouching.

After half an hour, I felt like a complete idiot. I realized my trap was ill conceived, that while I might catch some Casanova who dropped by for an evening rendezvous, there were a thousand other scenes that would leave me sitting underneath an azalea in the dirt, oblivious to my wife's guilt or innocence. I finally pulled myself out of the bushes and jumped over the fence with a clatter.

I walked bent over, to keep my body below the deck railing, hoping the neighbors wouldn't see me sneaking up on my own house. I peeked into the family room. Nancy wasn't in sight. I crept over to the dining room window, and again, found no one. I slipped into the back door as quietly as I could. I never realized how much noise is unavoidable in opening and closing a door, but no one called out, no one screamed. My heart pounded and I headed toward the stairs. The noisy whir of a hair dryer let me know I was safe for the moment. I opened the door to the hall closet and slipped inside to huddle under our long winter coats. I tried to slow my anxious breath, comforting myself that I was safe for the time being. I felt insane.

If Nancy was drying her hair, that meant she had showered and that meant she was grooming herself, all of which served to increase my suspicion. I sat in the dark, burning in the heat as I imagined Nancy with some other guy, fuming at the humiliation of her betrayal, despairing at the years of delight that were torn crashing against the shoals of this cruel shore. The wool of Nancy's long overcoat stifled me until I could hardly breathe. I distracted myself with lusty fantasies of Cindy, feeling righteous in my imagined debauchery with my new mistress, taken by right in the midst of Nancy's cruel betrayal. The doorbell rang. I sat up, feeling the ache of my trapped posture.

Footsteps knocked a light rhythm down the stairs. "Hey, Cindy," Nancy said as the door swung open. "Come on inside."

"Wow, Nancy," said Cindy after the light smack of a friendly kiss. "You look fantastic."

"C'mon," said Nancy, her voice bubbling with delight, "I'm dying to show you what I did this afternoon." Their voices trailed down the hallway. I sat trapped, huddling in my stifling cave of coats and boots.

Time passed at a dull pace which made it impossible to even estimate the duration. I felt slightly ashamed of myself. Nancy said Cindy was coming over and she had. Hopefully they'd go to a movie so I could escape without any risk of causing a scene. I waited.

"Show me, then," said Cindy's voice, approaching. I felt a quick pulse of panic, afraid fate would conspire against me and the closet door would suddenly lurch open. I held my breath, freezing stiff. The girls bounded upstairs.

"This is so stupid," I muttered after another fifteen minutes or so went by. I finally resolved to take a chance, take the three steps out of the closet and out the front door, and get myself out of this uncomfortable, undignified position. Maybe Nancy had cheated on me, but with each passing moment, it seemed less likely. I was taking too many chances, without even one good reason.

I listened at the door, cautiously, anxious to avoid a fatal mistake in the last few seconds of my stupidity. Silence. I opened the door slowly, peering out, my eyes burned by the hundred watts of our living room light. I stepped out onto the marble foyer. I peeked upstairs. I heard a low moan.

I knew the sound intimately. It was Nancy's. I had heard it a thousand times, but never at such a distance. I started up the stairs, too curious for caution. The sound grew heavier, louder. Our bedroom door stood slightly ajar. I approached, unbelieving and drawn. Pale hands wove into Cindy's dark brown hair, pulling her down between Nancy's thighs. Throaty, low moans echoed through the room.

My cock nearly tore through my trousers, such was my amazement at the scene before me. My jaw dropped open, amazed. Nancy arched her back, lifting herself to meet Cindy's kiss with her cunt. Nancy yanked at her blouse, tearing a button in her anxious desire to knead her own breasts. Mesmerized, I opened my fly and pulled out my stick and started jacking myself furiously. Cindy stood up and stripped. Nancy's pussy dripped, spread wide and waiting.

Cindy's ass was divine. Her cunt was delectable. Her tits were magnificent. Nancy caressed and teased and patted and fondled and squeezed and licked every bit of her friend with an ecstatic admiration, while enduring the same devotions to her own beautiful flesh. My prick screamed at the constant invitations of swollen slippery labia, of tongues and hard nipples, hungrily begging me to indulge myself in this feminine feast. But I stood wide-eyed and watched, stroking myself in a fit of passion, wondering at the vision before me, unwilling to risk the dream by pinching reality awake.

A moment of love paused.

"What is it?" asked Cindy, quietly.

"I can't help but feel guilty," said Nancy. "I think Ted has become suspicious."

"You think he knows?"

"No," said Nancy. "But it might be better if he did. I'm afraid he thinks I'm doing something worse than I am. Except this is, well, I'm not sure this is better."

"C'mon," said Cindy with a playful giggle. "You know this is better."

"Yeah, but I wish I didn't have to lie."

"Well, what time is he coming back?"

"Cindy! Could you do that?"

"Yeah, but more importantly, could you?"

"Yeah, I mean, I guess so, it would be hot, wouldn't it?"

"Yeah," said Cindy, leaning back, teasing her pussy while she thought. "That would be hot."

"Nine."

"Hmm?"

"He'll be back after nine."

"Cool," said Cindy. "Let's think up some way to surprise him."

With that, I slowly backed away, dashed down the stairs and silently slipped out the door. Walking back to my car, I imagined my surprise.

~~~

Malinov



Imagining Our First Meeting



As I sit here I am thinking of you. Thinking of the day we will meet for the first time. How I tremble with anticipation. We know each other so well, but have never seen each other. I am so excited...

I park the car and enter the Hotel and go straight to your room. Starting out fast at first and then slowing as I get closer to you. My mouth is feeling dry and my hands are shaking. I stop, tell myself to calm down, we have both been waiting for this for a long time.

Then I am there, in front of the door and I am knocking. The door opens and there you are as handsome as I have ever imagined. You step back just enough for me to enter and the next thing I know I am in your arms and you kiss me. I can feel you tremble against me. Feel your heat through our clothes. You move your mouth to my ear and whisper "I have dreamed of this baby" and my body just melts into you. My hands have a life of their own and are all over you. Now they are in your hair pulling your mouth closer to mine...

You feel my tongue push through your lips exploring your mouth. Loving the way you feel and taste. I moan into your mouth as I am exploring with my tongue and my hands. Moving them over your ass and then around to your cock, feeling how hard you are for me. How much you want me. Hearing your low moan as I stroke you making you harder.

Your hands find my breasts, kneading them, making me ignite....

While I am still kissing you I start to take your clothes off. To unbutton your shirt and remove it. You press me back against the door and start to remove my clothes also.

Next thing we know we are naked, clothes flung everywhere. Kissing each other. I kiss your face. Your eyelids, cheeks, nose, ears, down to your neck. I suck on your neck right at the base of your throat. You press me harder against the door. You lift my head to kiss my lips and move down to kiss my breasts. You kiss around each one wanting to tease me. But we are both too impatient and you move to my nipples. Sucking on each one making them grow bigger then I have ever seen them. They are so sensitive to your touch.

You move up and take my hand leading me to the bed. Pushing me down gently and moving on top of me. There are so many things that we want to do, but we have been waiting so long. We both cannot wait any longer. I need to feel you inside of me. You open my legs wide and slowly enter me. I am so wet and ready for you. You slide in easily, filling me more then I have ever been before. I arch my back up to you and you start to slowly lick my nipples as your cock moves in and out of me. You increase your rhythm as my moans increase and I get louder calling out your name. My hands running down your back and my nails lightly scraping your back. You move up and replace your lips with your hands. Getting on your knees so you can thrust deeper. Pulling my legs around you and locking my feet together. I watch you watching us...watching you enter me.

You feel me tremble and you know I am close. I feel you stiffen knowing you are going to cum. But you want us to cum together so you reach down and touch my clit and I explode. And as soon as my muscles clench around you, you explode also. Pumping into me faster and faster as I thrust up into you. Riding the waves out as I climax around you again. You move down on top of me again to kiss me tenderly. We snuggle against each other both knowing that this is only the start. We have so much more sharing to do. Right now we rest for a little a little while. Both smiling at each other. Knowing what is to come...

While we are embracing I must have fallen asleep. I am awakened to feeling you spreading my legs and licking me. I feel the tip of your tongue on my clit moving around in circles. And then moving down and entering me. My hips move up to you pressing into your face. You put your arms under me and lift me closer. I start to cum slowly on your tongue and you move it faster and press harder until I am squirting into your mouth. You have me trembling so hard. I ask you to let me move over you and you say "no" you are not finished yet. But you do move around so that we can 69. Knowing that what I really wanted was your hard cock in my mouth. I tease you at first by licking you slowly around your balls. Licking all around. When you cannot take it anymore you stick a finger in me. And then I suck in one ball and fondle the other one. Running and twirling my tongue around it and then I switch and suck the other one. Now you are sucking my clit into your mouth and I moan into you. I kiss up the underside of your cock and take the tip into my mouth. Running my tongue around under your head, then running it over your slit. You continue to finger and suck me. Putting a second finger in as I tense around them. Then I plunge my mouth over you and take you all the way in as I cum again all over you. I feel you hit my throat and I move my head back and forth faster and faster. Flattening my tongue on your vein and making a vacuum out of my mouth.

You know that you are about to explode and you tense up. You start to pump your fingers into me faster and harder and you cum in my mouth, shooting down my throat. I suck you harder and harder trying to get every drop that I can. As I climax again in your mouth.

You pull out of my mouth and position me on my hands and knees. My head rests on the pillow and I feel you massage my shoulders and reach around to my breasts. Then they move back to my ass and caress me and pull me up.

Then you are entering me. Nice and slow at first. Then I thrust back into you wanting to feel you deep inside of my cunt. You push harder and faster. Reaching around to fondle my breasts. I thrust back to meet each thrust of yours. You then fondle my clit as you pound into me. And then I feel you slap my ass and I explode all over. Wave after wave cuming over me. My muscles clenching you so hard that you explode into me. Filling me... We are both trembling. I feel you move and lay down next to me. I come into your arms and we kiss and fall asleep. Wrapped in each others arms.



Imagining You



I imagined that we were both lay asleep in each others arms, I wake and see you there and feel your presence. I gently reach across while you are still sleeping and softly touch the hair on your arm as you lay on your side, stroking the soft down. My touch is almost imperceptible like a whisper of an angel’s wing. I move closer so I can feel your breath on my face, your even breathing is somewhat soothing to me as I feel the proximity almost too much to bear. I can feel the fine hair on our bodies touching I am acutely aware of the sensation that each hair is causing me, like small electric currents passing through me. I want to look at you for a while before you awake watch how your eyes flicker as some image passes through your mind. I want to ponder all the thoughts that might be stored there inside your head, wonder what is making you tick, how you feel.

I watch your lips move silently speaking to a ghost in your head and I feel an incredible urge to touch your lips with mine. Taste those words, see if by putting them onto my lips I will know what you said. I move closer, I wet my lips with my tongue, then I gently let my tongue pass over your lips tasting the smooth surface that is dry. Ever so softly my tongue traces the curve of your lips, I memorise the taste and sensation but do not feel my curiosity sated. I linger here swallowing your breath feeling like I exist because only on what you exhale, feeling a part of you. I let my fingers stroke your hair; luxuriate in the caress on my fingertips. My every sense feels heightened and my heart beat seems to be drumming a tattoo in my chest. I wonder why you can’t hear it. I can feel the blood pumping through my body causing almost a pain as it forces my awareness to the ache in me, the need to feel even closer to you.

I think you sense my intensity, for slowly your eyes open, quickly becoming re accustomed with your surroundings. I see the look in your eyes change as the memories come flooding back, we look deeply into each other and you smile, I see all that you feel there in the depths of your eyes, some confusion, some fear and something more. I feel your hand stroke my cheek; your thumb glides over my brow tracing the curve of my face. I nestle into your hand feeling feline and purring as the touch is soothing me, your thumb traces my lips and as it slides across the surface my tongue gently slips out and tastes it. A fire seems to have ignited in the back of your eyes; you gently place your lips where your thumb had been. 

You kiss me, tentatively at first as if you’re reminding your lips of who I am and then.………Our tongues touch, I shudder at the sensation that ripples through my body, as yours explores the inside of my mouth. All the time your fingers are stroking my face and neck, learning me as if I am a book written in Braille. The kiss intensifies causing an almost primal reaction in us; my arms are wrapped around your back, stroking the smooth surface. One hand moves up around the back of your neck, holding your head against mine. Your two hands hold my face in yours as you move above me, conscious of your weight on my arm.

Our breathing is ragged, but you are slow, taking such exquisite pain in your exploration of me. I gasp as your kisses move to my neck and shoulders, I am extremely sensitive there and you smile knowingly like you have just been told a secret. You stay there licking and tasting my neck, I feel I am losing consciousness as the pleasure becomes more intense almost unbearable.

You lift my arms above my head and gently slide your fingers down the inside of my arms, while your mouth moves again to mine plundering the inside with your tongue. I feel dizzy, breathless; I can not focus on a single thought. All my awareness is concentrated on the pain that is such pleasure, on a need to have more but my consciousness cannot solidify an objective. I just want more of what it is I am feeling, of the sensations coursing through my body forcing me to jerk uncontrollably. To arch and writhe as if dancing to some mysterious beat.

Your mouth leaves mine and again begins a journey of kisses, that feel like multiple electric shocks, jarring every nerve into my consciousness.I am lying beneath you, and you are gently kissing a fiery path from my neck and shoulders down to my breasts. My arms are stretched above my head where you placed them my breathing is ragged and I can not hold a coherent thought in my head. I am only acutely aware of the sensations, your mouth upon my skin causes. 

As your mouth reaches my breast you slide one arm down my body tentatively tracing the path your lips made, I can feel your warm breath whispering against my flesh. Goosebumps emerge as if called to attention and somewhere in the periphery of my mind there is knowledge, of each one. I feel your hand cup my breast and lift it tenderly to your mouth like you are about to taste a delicate peach, which you are afraid to bruise. You taste with your tongue and my own mouth salivates as I experience the pleasure you are experiencing combined with my own. I want to rush you, push you into feasting hungrily and satisfying my craving with your gluttony of me, but I cannot move I have become paralysed with all that I am experiencing. 

There is a place, I was not aware that it was there, it is right in the centre of me. I can see it clearly now, pulsing and throbbing while a million butterflies dance all around it. That’s where I want you to be; somehow I know that all my hunger will be satisfied when you reach that part of me. Your mouth is hungrier now; both of your hands stroke and knead my body as your mouth explores every inch. I can feel you against my leg, hot and hard and I try to will you inside of me, I want to scream for you to stop, but I can only whimper and moan. Nothing seems to work in co-ordination, I know that if I can somehow manoeuvre you inside of me all will be well and the pain will desist. 

Of their own volition muscles jerk and spasm, it’s like my body of its own accord jumps to meet your touch, I have no control my body is traitorous, acting out of its own desire becoming a separate entity. Yet it knows what I need and seems to be luring you into colluding with it and satisfying those primal urges. Someone is moaning almost wailing, I glimpse consciousness and realise it was me as I am thrown into some vortex. Your mouth is drinking hungrily from me lapping at the nectar that oozes copiously, my hands are in your hair, pulling and pushing at you. My body want’s to escape but can’t get close enough to you. It’s like there is no more room in my body for all these feelings and emotions, I can feel myself ascend, climb from within and now I am stood on a precipice. Then I feel it, oh my god, I feel you enter me and that one thrust pushes me over the edge. I fall descend or ascend I am not sure of anything except all the emotions clamouring for release, all at the same time like an explosion of pure sensation. It feels like I will never find my way back from this place into which I have just fallen. Yet slowly my senses return and I find you looking at me. I am laughing, giggling and my face is wet with tears, you are still, within me waiting and watching and smiling………………………….

We lay still, my head rests on your shoulder our breathing is even now and there is an air of satisfied tiredness about us. Your eyes are closed. I wonder what you are thinking but I do not want to speak to ask, I feel too lazy, too content. My own thoughts relive every moment of the love we just made, questions pop up unbidden, irrational fears. Does the intense high of an orgasm mean that reality brings an unnatural low??? I want to know how you feel now; a part of me needs reassuring that it was as intense an experience for you. I push the doubts out of my mind, they were fears of yesterday, of a time when I was not so confident in whom I was. I remind myself that I am a beautiful sensual woman, that I am living in this moment and what comes, will be dealt with when it does.

I smile to myself, if he could hear my thoughts he would think I was strange, the question and answer sessions that happen in my head. I look at you again and find you watching me, a question mark in your eyes; I laugh and say that I was just reliving the passion. The question mark changes quickly and a spark alights your eyes, ah yes, I need have no fear, it definitely meant as much to you as it did me, for I can see it all in your eyes.

Oh what beautiful eyes.

My hand is resting on your stomach; I begin drawing lazy circles in the fine, dark, hair. I hear your intake of breath and I smile to myself. I wonder if you felt this powerful while drawing similar responses from me. I lean into you and allow my tongue to flick at the small nipple on this side of your chest, while continuing to stoke your stomach with my left hand. Your left arm is under me and your hand rests against the small of my back, urging me closer. My fingers continue drawing imperceptible swirls, moving now to your thighs, I know that if I touch you there you will be hard, I can sense the jerking arousal, so I am careful not to touch it yet.

I lean up on my right arm, the arm resting against my back, falls, to the bed. I begin kissing your neck, gentle pecks around your ear, I open my mouth and let my breath heat your neck then flick my tongue over the same area. You shudder. I nudge my leg between yours so that I am straddling your left leg. So I am able to manoeuvre myself above you to continue my journey, also the friction of your leg against me eases my own need a little, or heightens it, I am not sure, but I am concentrating on you.

I love the reactions my tongue is causing in you, I like the taste of you, I let my nails scratch gently down your sides as my tongue continues to taste your chest now. Your hips jerk, but I am determined to take my time and eke out every moment, as much as I would love to climb on top of you and have you buried deep within me. No, mustn’t let my thoughts wander down that path or I will be reminded of my own incessant throb that craves to be satisfied. 

I slide a little down your leg, mmmm that felt good, my fingers are still stroking your torso and playing with the hair on your body, while my lips and mouth taste every inch. I let my tongue wetly flicker around your belly button, drawing lines from there to your pubic hair and back. I feel your hardness rub against my breast and I lean up a little to avoid the contact. Every now and then I let my nipples stroke you, while I carry on licking, sucking, kissing and touching you. I feel your hands on my shoulders; hear you groan as you try to push me lower. I move your arms so that they fall back onto the bed. 

I position myself between your legs and push them apart, I kneel and look at you, while stroking your thighs. You open your eyes briefly and look at me, yours are glazed and pleading with me to continue. I stroke the inner part of your thighs still careful not to make contact, and then place my lips where my fingers were. You moan loudly now, saying my name, pleading with me to touch it. Not yet baby, I think, soon though. I gently stroke the sack that is swollen and hard and let my fingers gently travel the length of you, it is so beautiful, I use the fingers of both hands now, gently stroking all of you. I tentatively place my tongue at the tip and flick, you catch your breath as if somehow drawing breath might distract me. I am now licking you all over using saliva as a lubricant, holding you with both hands massaging your need.

It is an incredible feeling to watch you as I hold you in my hands, to know that I am responsible for the reactions in you that I am witness too. I am seeing you vulnerable, exposed to me and I have created this need in you. I am aware that I have never felt more feminine, more powerful, more beautiful, than I do right at this moment and a feeling of such tremendous emotion consumes me. I slide my mouth over you swallowing your length letting my tongue circle as I taste your essence. My mouth continues the movements that my hands started, moving faster to match the need in you, faster and faster my lips glide up and down holding you firmly in their grasp. 

I can sense every muscle in you tighten, I can hear your moans and my name being called and I know that you are ascending to that place, that you are conscious of nothing but that aching need for release. I am still stroking you with my fingers as my mouth gorges to match the rhythm of your urgent plunges. At the same time as I hear your cry and become aware of your whole body quivering, my mouth is filled with all that is you and I drink greedily until I feel your body slowly relax. 

I become aware of your hands knotted in my damp hair and feel the pressure of them lifting my face, pulling me back up your body so that you can kiss me. Slowly, tenderly you kiss me now all the time looking into my eyes, if I had doubted before the way you were feeling, then those doubts are now banished from my mind.

I close my eyes and imagine that I am lay in your arms and we fall into a light sleep. Contented smiles on our faces from the passion just experienced. I don’t know how much time has elapsed, in my mind it feels like time has stopped, there is nothing that I feel any urgency to move for. I am somewhere drifting from slumber to consciousness, I feel calm and relaxed and at peace, my head rests on your shoulder and your arm is around me. For the first time in a long time I have a sense of feeling protected, safe, I had not been aware of feeling a need for this, yet I like it and want to wrap it around me. Perhaps I have allowed myself no room for vulnerability; maybe in my independence and the striving for that, I have refused to acknowledge a need for it.

I slowly open my eyes and find myself looking into yours, as I gaze at you a surge of almost overwhelming feeling washes over me, it starts in my stomach and moves up into my chest, throat until I feel tears spring into my eyes. I look into myself for a moment to try and diagnose the cause, so many different feelings all clamour at once, the strongest being such an incredible feeling of tenderness. I want to hold your face in my hands, touch your mouth with mine breathe into you all these feelings as words cannot portray them with enough clarity. Somehow that won’t be enough, a realisation occurs as the tears fall onto your shoulder and no words are yet uttered, I know what this is. As your finger reaches out to catch a tear and you place that tear on your tongue, while all the time looking deep within me, I am cognisant of the fact that you do too. We have not yet spoken, nor indeed moved yet in the last few minutes so much has happened between us, the world just shifted and from this moment on nothing will be the same again.



Imagining You



She grasped the warm cup again and raised it to her lips, slowly drank in the last of the day's first cup of coffee. Sucked in the bitter edge of it and sighed. She always wanted more.

She was reluctant to start working, and drifted about the apartment, looking for distraction. Out beyond her bedroom window the builders were working, their green hi-glo vests beavering in the morning heat. It was not yet 8am.

She wandered into the shower, turned it on to its fullest and let the water almost scorch her. She wanted to be entirely clean, ready as if for a lover. She shaved her legs with her lover's shaving foam. 

After the shower she toweled herself down; it was summer; she was half-hearted about getting dry; she liked the wetness against her skin in the cool air. Wandered back, naked, to the bedroom. For an instant, she thought, she caught the eye of one of the builders. They were four storeys up, maybe eighty metres away through the air. Enough to see she was naked, maybe, she wasn't sure. But the possibility brought some life to the day. She liked it. 

She threw herself under the sheets and drew the soft cotton up around her. She leaned over on the pillow and could see the builder working away - maybe he could see in, maybe it depended on the light, she wasn't sure, she nuzzled into the pillow, angled herself to get a better look. She peeled back the sheets and started to touch herself, rubbing the last of the moisturizer into her breasts. It was soft, supple, it flowed around her like sex. 

She imagined him doing that to her, the builder, doing it still dressed in his dirty overalls. She remembered her lover then, remembered looking down on him while he took her nipples in his teeth like a baby. The way her thighs trembled, the way he looked so peaceful, so beautiful, so dedicated to being there. The way she begged him to enter her, asked him to put his fingers inside her; how suddenly and roughly he did it, how full and content it made her feel. Complete, suddenly, no longer adrift at all. She loved his hands, their forcefulness inside her, their hunger, their possessiveness. 

She thought about displaying herself to the builders. She wanted them to be watching. She thought about them wanting to enter her, arguing, fighting over her. And then she imagined one, coming up to her from behind, teasing her, refusing to give her what she wanted. What did she want? Everything, probably, but slowly. Yes, everything. But she wanted someone else to be in charge.

She showered briefly again, threw on some jeans and went downstairs through the old building; needed to get to the bank before it closed, lodge a cheque, buy some milk, maybe stop for another coffee, look at the passing men. Imagine being in bed with one of them, maybe. She walked past the building site, smiling.

'Hey' she thought she heard 'hey, you' the voice was quiet, slightly shy, but strong too. She glanced behind her. He peered from around the hoarding, hat and everything 'hey' he said again. 'C'm here...,' she found herself walking back to him, knowing she shouldn't. 'I need to show you something' he said 'you're the woman from that flat, aren't you?' she blushed, didn't know what to say...There was nothing.

He surprised her, when she reached him, reaching toward her with his thick builder's hand, gruffly running a finger across her lip without warning. Huh? he couldn't just do that, could he? But he had. He took his hand roughly away, and she felt her lip curling away from him. She still felt his finger there. The floury, blank taste of it – plaster - or something? She loved that – how did he know that? 

'C'mon' he said. He grabbed her hand and led her across the empty site. 'I liked doing that to you' he said. 'I think you liked it too, though you won't say.' There was no one else around; perhaps they were at coffee. He brought her into the shell of the building she'd seen so often from her flat, thought about being fucked in. This was crazy. It scared her, yet she trusted it too. Something about him made her feel safe. They climbed the stairs, he was half dragging really. 'I want to touch you again,' he said' I swear...' and then he let her hand go and she ached for him. 

'So...'he said, they were four stories up now, and panting. He opened the door into a shell of a room – just breeze blocks mostly, an empty space where the windows would be, some hunk of navy carpet on the floor, a stool, tea cups, a kettle, 'this is where I've watched you from'. She blushed again, and was silent. 'And this,' he said, 'is what I've wanted to do to you.' He unbuttoned her jeans - slowly, methodically, as if he had done it a hundred times, as if he was her lover and had the right, peeled them away from her, half way down her legs, left her standing there like a child about to be punished. She wondered if she was, half wanted it. But he kissed her belly slowly – to make up - looked up at her, and stood away from her body for an instant.

'Now' he said. He burrowed his face into the fabric just above her hair and breathed hot air, into her, through them. He was so calm and intimate about it all, it was terrifying. Then he let her go again, stood back again, wandered around her body, looking at and touching it as if it were his property. As if he was wondering whether to buy it, whether he really wanted it enough. He ran his fingers lightly over her ass, back and forward, nothing else touching – just his fingers, like a sculptor, caressing something he had just made, wondering if the lines were right.

God she wanted him. She was hovering between excitement and some kind of lost outrage she thought she should be feeling but knew she wasn't. Louder than that was her hunger, though, she felt herself warm and flooded with him. Pulsing invisibly, dying to be touched, entered, owned, even for a moment.

He leaned into her and kissed the back of her neck, his two hands slowly tracing their way down her chest till he reached her nipples. He rubbed, lightly, the whole breast, back and forth, and then he brought his hands down to her waist, snuck them under her top and through to her skin and found his way back to her nipples. As soon as she felt his skin against her, all her resistance melted. It seemed like he knew her, and her nipples ached for him, she wanted him to be rough, but he wouldn't; he just lightly caressed her, teased her, casually brushed against her nipples until they were taught and aching. 

She felt him now, hard against her, felt his wanting of her, his lust, his tight control. Most of all his power.... Then he brought out the boy. He cupped his hands over her eyes from behind. 'I have a friend' he whispered, and then she felt his teeth tight on her ear for an instant. 'Don't worry, we won't hurt you. I'm only trying to train him.' 

He said something in another language then, and gripped her hands tight behind her. 'We wouldn't,' he said 'do anything to hurt you, and afterward, you can tell me if I know how to teach.' She heard noises in front of her then, another body in the room, noises below and in front of her, another man breathing, and then the boy's breath, suddenly, on her. The builder still held her hands behind her, forced them back and told her the boy was only eighteen, and innocent, but that there was more he'd like to do to her. 'What I will want to do to you is...' he said, and described things she'd imagined but would never have asked for. Rough dangerous things she'd always wanted, never found words for. And then he said 'Promise me you'll ask for all the things you want some day, and I'll do them all, but first I'll do almost the opposite, violently if you like.' 

And then said something sharply in the other language. 'He'll do whatever I tell him,' he said. What he had told him was to lick her. The boy – the invisible, delicate boy, leaned his tongue forward tentatively and began to taste her... It seemed he wasn't allowed to touch her except with his tongue. The builder held her open, forcing her legs apart, gripping the inside of her thighs and opening her for the boy. And with his knee somehow he teased her ass; almost as if his knee could enter her. She would have wanted it to. Ached for him there, also, he traced the top of her thighs with his hands, inching closer to her but never touching. 'I want to be in there' he said, 'and I will be, whenever I want - but you'll have to beg.'

She was flooded with him now, entirely open. She wondered if he knew how wet she was. If the boy told him, or found a way to show him, if he couldn't see. But the boy hadn't said a word. Her body hummed. It was like a tone or a song in her, growing ever louder, stronger, never nearing a climax, just building. She'd never tell him he made her feel this special, never tell him she nearly came just listening to him, felt she could come with his teeth gripping just her ear lobe – with his words whispered in her ear, with those alone. 

She was crazy, almost, with wetness, moisture, longing. She ached for him, yet said nothing. She wouldn't beg, or even ask. Wanted to see where he could bring her to all by himself. He seemed to know what to say to her, how to tease her, how to get beneath her mind and promise her things she barely knew she wanted. She felt known by him and it thrilled her.

'I want,' he said again, 'to be inside you, but not yet, not until you beg me.' The boy was finding his way to the heart of her now, beginning to know how to move her, how to send her somewhere perfect. He reached something in her, a rhythm, and she gasped with pleasure. The builder pulled her away then, barked something at the boy. The boy withdrew his tongue and used it to tease her, licking delicately around her with his tongue, rolling it slowly up the inside of her thigh, glancing his lips on hers. Kissing her cunt as if it were the lips of a baby. He withdrew and breathed beneath her and she felt herself open. Every time she ushered a noise of pleasure, the builder pulled her gruffly away, tightening his grip, denying her fulfillment.

He wanted, he said, to be inside her ass, to humiliate her in front of the boy. But only if she wanted him to. The boy was Polish, he said, he spoke no English, had no idea what passed between them. She didn't want him to do it just then, but she loved the thought of it. The decadence.

'I want you to go home now' he said 'and think of me - I'll be watching. These are the things I will imagine doing to you. I will lick you myself, but slowly, and I'll tease you. I'll caress your ass with my hand until you beg me to enter you there. And then I will break my way inside you and fuck you however hard I want, however much you protest, I won't care if I cut you open, I'll fuck you until you scream and cry in my arms. And then I'll hold you. And then I'll turn you over and fuck your cunt,' he said, 'soft and slowly at first, slower than you've ever felt it, just at the opening, slower than you have ever known, and then when you can't bear it, if you're lucky and you ask me right... I'll...' His words trailed off.

'...I'll leave your body for a moment.' He said 'I'll leave you hanging. And I'll just look at you. And tell you what I want to do to you. And turn you over and rub my cock against your skin, as if it wants to get in everywhere. It will feel like this,' he said, and he stood away from her and ran his hand roughly, then soft against her. Jesus. 'If you want me' he said 'I'll come to you. Trace the code to on the window; I'll see it and read the numbers and come to you in the night – some night soon. I'll find my way to your bedroom in the dark,' he said 'and I'll wake you with with this' he said, rubbing his cock against her ass again, 'and with my tongue on you, licking you open and awake. We can start from the beginning, and you can teach me everything I need to know...'

'Afterward...,' he said...'afterward I'd hold you....and if you'd been good, in the morning, I'd let you suck me.' Her lips were suddenly hungry for him, fiercely so, this tingling she knew in them, this ravenous desire to suck a man, to wrap her mouth around him, it came out of nowhere, and she loved it, but he wouldn't let her touch him. Still held her hands behind her back 'I'd surrender to you then like a baby,' he said, 'and moan as I came in your mouth and felt my juices flood you. And then I would beg you to drink me, to be tender, to cup my balls in your hands and your heart as well. And hold me late into the night.' 

'In the morning,' he said, 'we could do everything we hadn't done, and drink coffee and trace each other's bodies, slowly with the backs of our hands.'



Imagining You



I woke up and stretched lazily under the fluffy down comforter as my alarm softly buzzed next to my head. My dark brown eyes peek out from behind shuttered eyelids and gaze out the window. The day was just starting, and the suns first rays cascaded into my room warmly. I reluctantly slide out of bed and pad down the hall to the bathroom. I stand in front of the full-body mirror and remove my night clothes. My eyes travel up and down my curvy body. I'm of average height, but my body is chubby and endowed nicely. My hands rise to cup my 48ddd tits lightly and thumb the hardening nipples quickly. Breathing heavily as I move one of my hands down to cradle my plump pussy in its palm. Using the heel of my hand, I rub against my throbbing clit. My smooth pussy becomes wet quickly, so I slip two fingers deep into my pussy. Because of what my hands were doing to my body, my release rapidly approached.

I picture you in my mind, your fat cock dripping precum. I imagine me on my knees in front of you as you take my hair and wrap it around your hands. I feel your wet cock slide against my mouth, and across my cheeks as you tease me relentlessly. My fingers begin to push into me harder and faster, my other hand squeezing my tit almost painfully. Mercifully, you finally shove your cock into my wanton mouth. Your hips pumping strongly as your hands guide my mouth on your cock. I can only grunt and groan around your fat dick as you fuck my mouth and throat. I feel your cock swell and begin to quiver as you shove it deep and keep my head still. As your first jet of hot cum sprays on my throat, I open my eyes and stare at my reflection in the mirror as my body convulses in orgasm. My creamy cum gushes out from around my pounding fingers to drip and run down my thick, trembling thighs. Gasping and nearly collapsing, I quickly jump into an invigorating shower and clean up. Refreshed and pleasantly throbbing, I walk back to my room, droplets of water running down my pale skin slowly. As I passed the linen closet, I get a large, fluffy towel and begin to dry my long, burgundy hair. I can not help but fantasize about the way your deep, sexy voice sends chills down my spine; the way your cock makes my pussy quiver in delight.

I head towards my closet, smiling. I had a lot of chores that had to be done today so getting an early start had seemed the sensible thing to do. I pulled a pale purple cotton tank top and white shorts out and placed them on the bed, and after toweling off the remaining water, I dressed. I forgo my panties and bra for now because I know I am nowhere near finished cumming for you. I grab the clothes strewn along the floor and put them in the basket. Turning back to double-check, I see my secret toy collection. I smile wickedly and grab the box and head to the bed. Opening it, I pull out the toys.

I had a vibrating bullet, a standard sized dildo, anal beads, sex lotions, and a huge dildo that I rarely was turned on enough to use, the big boy. It was 9 inches and exceptionally thick. It was firm and rubbery, including a set of impressive balls. Just seeing it made my pussy clench and moisten.

I placed the big dildo and my bullet on the table next to my bed and put the rest of the toys back into the box. I slip off my shorts and lie back on my bed. Utilizing the bullet, I turn the vibration on medium. I use one hand to spread open my shaved pussy lips and set the bullet directly on my clit. My back arches up off the bed, and I moan loudly as the vibrations move through my body swiftly. I bend my legs and spread them wide, circling my clit slowly with the toy. My pussy gets so hot and wet when I think of you. Wishing you were here to eat my sweet, wet pussy until I came all over your face. The idea of your lips on my cunt drives me to move the bullet faster. I dip a finger into my leaking pussy and bring it to my mouth. I gently suck on my finger, the taste of my sweet juice making me moan with delight. 

My hips begin to buck up to push the toy into my clit harder, my hand moves to my clothed tit and begins to pull on my nipple hard. My orgasm rushes through me quickly; I imagine your mouth clasped around my cunt hole, sucking all of my juice out hungrily. Not giving my body time to come down, I jump up and get the dildo. My dripping wet cunt incredibly ready for the toy to stretch and plunge into its depths. To lube it up, I suck and lick it all over, even the balls. Thinking I was sucking your cock, I thrust as much of the 9 inches down my throat as I can. When I can't take it anymore, I place the dripping wet rubber cock on the bed and hold it upright. I straddle the huge toy and rub my soaked pussy with the rubbery head. Placing my cunt hole right over it I begin to drop down. I feel the thick head push against my slick pussy and push down harder. I use one hand to stretch my lips and the other to reach around to slide a finger inside my pussy to help it fit. I groan loudly as the fat toy pops into my tight cunt almost reluctantly.

I hold just the head inside me and remove my top roughly. I tease my nipples hard and slide down on the toy further. Soon, my velvety insides were convulsing around the fat toy. As my pussy adjusts to the massive size, I imagine your body beneath me. Your hands gripping my fleshy hips roughly and urging me to bounce. I begin to slide up and down feeling my pussy stretch wide. Reaching down, I use my bullet on my clit again and begin to bounce harder. My pussy leaks juice with each bounce and I grunt as it hits the bottom of my hole. I spread open my ass and use two fingers on my asshole. Gathering juice from the toy, I slip them deep into my ass as I fuck the toy. The feeling of pleasure in both holes drives me over the edge. I scream and slam down on the toy and bury my fingers knuckle deep in my ass. Hot, sticky cum squirting out forcefully around the toy to soak the bed and my thighs. Gasping hard, out of breath, I collapse on the bed and remove my fingers from my ass. The toy stays buried inside me as I lie on my back, gasping, and beaming. I glance over at my desk and see my cell phone is blinking. I get it quickly and check my texts.

It is a message from you. My pussy tightens around the toy hard as I read your words. It seems you had stroked your cock for me in the shower this morning and had come hard thinking of me sucking your cock. Had imagined me drinking all of your cum hungrily, like a dirtly little cum slut. You had decided to take a few pictures the last time you had jacked off and had sent them to me this morning. I opened them up and licked my lips as your cock appeared on my screen, a thick rope of cum dripping down your fat cock head. As I stare at your picture, I reach down and grab the toy by the balls. I begin to pump it in and out slowly as I switch to the next picture. Your beautiful cock was glistening with precum that you had used to lube your cock for pumping. I moan passionately and begin to drive the toy harder into me. The picture of your wet cock mesmerizes me as I think of you fucking me hard and fast. My legs hooked over your broad shoulders, your cock jack hammering into me. I dig the toy into me at the same speed as my vision is showing me. Screaming and grunting like an animal, I cum again. This time I pull the toy out and rub my clit hard and fast. I squirt cum hard and fast all over the bed. My back arches off the bed, my toes curl, and my eyes squeeze shut tight as the orgasm shuts down all thinking. 

With the last squirt, I slowly open my eyes and struggle to breath right. After a few moments to calm my self, I grab the phone and smile. You were calling. It seemed my pleasure was not over yet.



Imagining You



Imagining you over me, holding my wrists above my head.

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