5 comments/ 28918 views/ 8 favorites I Finally Got Him, Girls... Ch. 01 By: Anonanonymous I got him. Finally. Really got him. We'd danced around each other for months. Neither of us was a kid and we were a bit over-cautious, I suppose. I was 99% sure he liked me, and, well, he was that rare guy that makes you wet every time he's around. At least he did me. And I spent a lot of time wishing he would...do me. lol. Then I moved condos and, to my surprise and delight, he agreed to come for a drink and look it over. But still...well, it was as much my 'fault' as his. Every time I decided to make THE move, I don't know, something cropped up and the moment passed. So we talked and sipped wine, and talked, and sipped wine, and an hour went past and I noticed him stealing a glance at his watch. And believe me when I say my heart sank. Which I guess showed somehow, and he was more attuned than most guys, because he explained there was an important game on with a team he supported. Actually, he asked first if I enjoyed the sport in question -- and since I don't mind the sport in question, and it was him asking, I switched on the TV and freshened his glass and mine. "It should be a rout," he said, "over by the half." It wasn't. His team played badly and the game stayed tight. Ever noticed how much you can learn about a guy from watching him watch his favourite sport? Someone should teach us that, girls, when we're young. It would probably save us a great deal of pain. But that's a footnote, of course. The truth is, as the half neared an end, an idea came to me. Believe me when I say my mouth was dry, and my pussy anything but, when I switched off the TV. The silence was deafening, but I thought you've-done-it-now-girl in-for-a-penny and said, "You can buy more time if you like." He gave me the quizzical little smile I always really really liked. "Five minutes at a time." My mouth was ashes. So I sipped my wine. "But it'll cost you one thing you're wearing for each five minutes." I almost came on the spot when he said, "'Wearing?' So my shoes don't count?" It simply came out, on its own. "No, they don't. I find barefeet extremely erotic, don't you?" His eyes slid to my own barefeet, tucked up under me on the sofa -- and he chuckled, reaching down to slip off his socks. I tried for dignity as I slid off the sofa to retrieve the kitchen timer, but I had to have a quick check once I was in the kitchen to make sure I hadn't, well, I was wearing a light coloured skirt -- and I was THAT wet. Relieved to find it didn't actually show through, yet, I returned to the livingrrom. "That doesn't start til the game resumes, of course." "Of course," I replied, as I set it to 0 again. "And I can quit any time, of course." "Of course. At the end of a time segment, of course." We were like a comfortable established couple, playing a game to spice things up. Except, of course, we were still on the brink, so to speak...and to say 'electric' would be an understatement. I actually jumped when the timer pinged. Using the remote to switch off the TV, with the game still tight, I was reasonably, well, no, I won't lie. My hands were shaking. It was now all about would-he-backout -- and if-he-didn't- Welch-would-it-be-his-shirt-or-his-pants. But it really was a close game and he apparently didn't want to miss a minute. It was his pants. And I learned some more. Not least that the bulge in his shorts was very very very promising. So now I was praying the game would stay tight enough and I was ecstatic when the opposition scored a try (did I mention the game was rugby?...all those guys with great butts in tight shorts!) to actually take the lead. He shot me a theatrically pained glance, and we kibbitzed playfully, but his eyes rarely left the screen -- and when the timer was running down, with his team threatening, and him not wanting to miss anything, he started to unbutton his shirt. Sheer impulse. Just the thought 'why-not' and out came the words, "Oh-no, over confidence has a price. Shorts this time." And he glanced over at me...and my heart froze, then thumped away like mad because he smiled and shrugged and stood up and slipped them off. He was too quick for my liking, but if the glimpse I'd caught was anything to go by, well, I was buzzing now in anticipation -- but his team scored then...and they scored again about 3 minutes later, so I was wondering if they were far enough in the lead when the timer pinged. I needn't have worried. He was already unbuttoning his shirt! Girls, he was gorgeous. Everything I'd dreamt of when I was using up the batteries over the past few months -- thick, and curved, and, well, we don't have to tell the lie about size not mattering when the tip reachs beyond his navel, do we! "So how does this work now?" he asked, still staring at the game. I swallowed. "We go on, of course," I said, hopefully, and when he didn't react I added, "I'll just have to think up, uhm...?" "Forfeits," he suggested. "That's it. Forfeits." He turned a wry smile in my direction. "Make them your best ideas. I don't intend to switch off until the game is safely in the bag and we may as well explore the possibilities to see if we're truly compatible." When the timer pinged, I left him watching to retrieve the box I kept in the very back of my closet...the one I hadn't opened in much too long. I made sure it was dusted properly, carried it in and placed it on the coffeetable in front of us. Knowing he was watching from the corner of his eye as I opened it, I kept the lid blocking his view -- and took a deep breath, believe me, a very deep breath -- then removed my flogger and gently placed it on the table on his side. "Bit of a Domme, are we?" "With the right man. I haven't had the opportunity in quite some time." I don't know why I added the last bit. I just did. All I really wanted to do was to sit on that gorgeous cock and ride him til I melted. And I was risking that. But it was there, and he was there -- and he wanted to know, apparently -- and it wasn't that I didn't enjoy vanilla, I did, I do -- but it hadn't always worked well to start what I'd hoped would be a lasting relationship by pretending and then introducing the other side later. And I really really really wanted this to be a lasting relationship. So you can imagine my relief and exhileration when he re-focused on the TV and murmured something as the opposition scored again. The next time the timer pinged, there was 10 minutes left in the game -- with his team only up by 3 points. I removed the carefully coiled ropes from the box, laid them by the flogger and left the box lid off so he could see the other contents. I then re-set the timer and poured the last of the wine into our glasses. Ping. 5 minutes left and his team only up by 6. I switched off the TV. When he turned to me, I said, "This time the price is to deprive you of the TV -- but there's another bottle in the fridge and an opener in the drawer and if you open it, fill my glass and do everything I say, exactly as I say, I might, just might, let you catch whatever happens to be left of the game..." I love the way a hard-on wobbles about when a naked man hurries toward me. Don't you? Of course you do. And when the hurrying man with the wobbling cock brings wine...perfect. lol. When he'd poured the wine, I made him stand directly in front of me. His cock felt as good as it looked. Two fingertips gently steadying the quivering shaft, two others plucking casually at his scrotum. "You'll stay nude and serve me." For emphasis, I gave him another gentle pluck. "Yes." His voice was throaty. "That wasn't a question." "No. Sorry." "Good boy." I used the remote to turn on the TV. The crowd were going wild, cheering on the underdogs -- his team's opposition. I tapped the sofa right beside me, let him sit and moved his leg over both of mine, exposing his cock and balls. That way I could torment him, if I chose, which I did, while the last 2 minutes of the game ground slowly down...with his team defending desperately and only 3 points ahead. "Now don't you dare cum," I whispered in his ear, two fingers stroking his quivering cock shaft oh so slowly... His team hung on. We'll say he did as well. Although I do love the taste of that little pre-cum bubble taken from my own fingertip. Especially when it means I'd controlled him perfectly. Squeezed just the right amount from the tube as it were. lol. And I took him at his word...'we may as well explore the possibilities to see if we're truly compatible'. Remember? I did. No-more-hesitation, just-do-it. So I had him stand facing away, hands behind his head, and set about pinking him. Nothing heavy. I'm not comfortable with heavy. Just flicks of the flogger, building up, forehand for his right cheek and backhand in the same motion for the left. Silence in the room -- save for the clip sound of the flogger and the odd groan torn from his throat. It wasn't long before he was quivering all over, and glistening with sweat. That's something else I enjoy tasting. Male sweat produced under duress. More good stuff squeezed from the tube. lol. So I paused to sample it, from my fingertips, then resumed. Another half dozen flicks. Then I visually savoured the pink of his cheeks for a few moments, sipping wine, before, "Turn around." He was still hard! Not-put-off-then. Quite-the-reverse. A shiver ran through me but I suppressed it, covering with another sip of wine, reached out with my free hand to pluck gently at his scrotum. Feigning displeasure I put my thumb against the base of his shaft and spread my hand up, measuring against my little finger and said sharply, "You can give me more than that!" It's not good to let them rest, you see. Goes to their head if they think you're impressed. Taking up the flogger I went to work on the inner thighs. Same rythm but moving up, climbing slowly toward his rock hard balls. And still he stayed hard! Apprehensive, for sure, trembling and eyes locked on the flicking flogger -- but still hard! Still not put off. So I suddenly went for him directly. Two quick overhand strokes. Direct hits to his cock and balls. One sharp gasp and a full groan from him. THAT made him soften. Thank god! As I said, I don't do heavy. I'd once lost a guy who needed his cock whipped. But I wouldn't let this one know this. So long as he thought I would, and could, that was as good as doing it. Standing up, I moved the coffeetable away with my foot. "Never do that to me again. I want hard, understood. Now sit, right there, and get it up again. Go on. Do it." Quick!?. He was a scalded cat. Down on the floor, masturbating. While I stood over him, undressing slowly. Delighted by how fast he was hard again. "Enough. That's mine. Over there. There. Lie flat." And when I was ready. When I was finally undressed, I moved over and sank down over him. "Get it on. Go on." I pretended to attend to my hair, purposely stifling any sign of pleasure as he found his way inside me. Even as I settled slowly down onto him. "And don't you dare cum before I finish. Now lie still. Absolutely still." Believe me, girls, I RODE him. Hard. I peaked very quickly but kept on going, hit multiples, slowed, but only a bit, to grind down in that lovely circular motion, peaked again and felt him spurt, kept riding him until my legs stopped working... "So," I rolled over in the crook of his arm, and propped myself on an elbow to look down at him, "are we compatible, do you think?" His laugh told me we were. "Good. Because next time I'm going to put a mat inside that door and you will stand there and strip..." I Finally Got Him, Girls... Ch. 02 I'd got him. Finally. Really got him. But then you know that from chapter 1 so I'll just get on with our next session... **** (Excerpt from account written under Instruction) She's gorgeous. I'm not just saying that because she's reading this. It's the truth. Okay, neither of us is a kid, but she's blonde, shapely, extremely fit and I love the twinkle in her eyes. So when she finally took a firm step toward sex, I was delighted...and when it turned she was a light domme I honestly thought I'd died and gone to heaven. So I'd been anticipating our second 'session'. To put it mildly. "Come in," was all she said in response to my knock, I opened the door immediately then hesitated in the dark before closing the door. When I had, closed the door, I could see the only light was set on the mat about 6 feet in front of me. Still I hesitated, waiting for my eyes to adjust... **** (Me...lol) Never give them an even break, girls. Prepare. Set them up. Then exploit. After all, it's what they want. Already wet, I waited for a 3-count, then said, "Didn't I give you an instruction last time?" "Oh, yes, sorry." He moved with some alacrity then, getting on the mat and starting to shrug off the jacket. "Are you hard?" "Yes." "Just throw it aside." When he started to unbutton his shirt, quickly, I added, "No, drop the pants. And the shorts." CFNM was enough for me, as a rule. With this guy, for whatever reason, I didn't even really need that...but he'd suggested we explore the possibilities and I was more than willing, believe me. Especially as our first session had gone so well. "Show me," I instructed him. He lifted the shirt and that gorgeous cock and balls appeared, sending a shiver up my spine and giving me that wonderful little ripple in my pussy. "Did you masturbate between our last meeting and this one? Don't even think of telling me a lie." "Yes." "When?" **** (Excerpt from account written under Instruction) She was moving about, slowly, but at random, forcing me to follow the voice. Even if my eyes had adjusted enough, I would've been hard pressed to see her. Was she dressed? ...how?...in what? "That's two mistakes already," she said simply. How do you say every hour on the hour? I opened my mouth to try... "Bend forward, hands on knees." She slipped something over my head, adjusted it. A blindfold. She was moving again, behind me. "How often?" "Of-ten." My breath caught when she started what she called pinking. Surprise, really. No one stroke was that painful. Although it did build up. Within a few strokes I was starting to quiver. "Best time?" "When you confirmed today...with the pic..." **** (Me...lol) Always keep them guessing, girls. I stopped after this...after only a very strokes. "You can expect much worse for every mistake from now on. Now get those clothes off, all of them. Quickly." I stepped up beside him and whispered, "One-two-three..." Although I was counting slowly, he was moving fast believe me. Men feel awkward undressing, especially when under duress. It makes my pussy wet just remembering. One of those little things, you know. "Four-five...Don't keep me waiting, I'm not best pleased already...six...did I say you can sit down...?" Shoes are such a problem for men. Exploit. Make them hop about -- delight in the way their hard cocks bounce and roll,,,why not? "...seven-eight-nine..."He had the shoes off now, and socks, was getting there. "Did you orgasm when you masturbated?" "Yes." Naked now. Glistening with sweat and quivering. "Turn and face the other way. I don't recall you requesting permission to cum?" And now I set to work on a real pinking. Nothing hard. Just like before. Rythm. Forehand for the right cheek, backhand for the left -- and when he was pink on the rump, moving down, same stroke, forehand for the right leg, backhand for the left -- quads, behind the knees, calves..."Now give me your right foot. Do it." Both strokes, 3 times, to the sole of one foot, "Switch", and the other. Struggling for balance, he was gasping and grunting. "Foot down." And before he could even settle I was around the front, working the insteps, shin, knees, thighs...he was taut now, really stressed. As you know, I don't like flogging the cock and balls. Too heavy for me. But I'd given him two light flicks the first session, so he didn't know what you know -- he thought I might. And him thinking that was as good as actually doing it. So I spent a fair time on the thighs, made him spread his feet a bit...revelled in his discomfort, just the flick of the crop and his groans breaking the silence of the room. Then I jumped over his cock and balls, to his chest. What came out was a strangled scream and his cock went soft immediately. So I stayed there, focussed on his chest and nipples... **** (Excerpt from account written under Instruction) Did I actually say gone to heaven? Maybe hell is heaven. I was expecting...what?...direct to my cock, same motion?...upwards into the balls? Both. Now that she skipped both options, I didn't know where I was. I honestly didn't. And my tits were going raw. I'd never realized male nipples were that sensitive. **** (Me...lol) I kept it up long as I dared, then decided a return to semi-flaccid was the best I would get. This time. Never lower the bar, girls. Always ramp it up. When I stopped he was a sweating, writhing, groaning mass. Spectacular. "Are you listening?" I ran my fingertip, upwards, from near his navel to his chest, savoured the taste. "Yes." "Never cum again without my permission," a brief hesitation, "or you'll get that or worse. Understood?" "Yes." Nodding vehemently. "And don't you dare present soft again?" One stroke where his hard on should've been, slightly beyond his navel. "Understood?" "Yes." "Good. Now put that miserable excuse for a cock in my hand." And I lowered myself to my haunches, holding my hand out flat about knee-high. He couldn't find me, poor dear. He edged almost all the way around, sort of gyrating and bending his knees, a little -- but not nearly enough. Then he came back around. Obviously he thought I'd moved off, because he grew more and more agitated, and frantic. 'Lost' now, he finally stopped, almost in profile to me. Hard again..., breathing heavily and soaked with sweat. Delicious. Not least because it gave me the opportunity to punish him, again, and to torment him a little before that. Okay, I don't go in for cbt. But this was just one of those finger-flicks. Albeit to the ball farthest away from me. So that he half-screamed, jumped and turned away from me. And I was on him right away, reaching around with both hands to take hold of his throbbing cock...lol **** (Excerpt from account written under Instruction) She was naked. Had been all along? I could feel her taut nipples just below my shoulderblades and her thighs and bush against the lower part of my butt...and both hands wrapped softly around my hard-on. I mean, fuck. How do you know not cum? Where do you put the inside of your head? And it was as if she was inside my pounding brain, whispering, "Would you like to cum?" "Yes." I was gritting my teeth, on tiptoe now, barely hanging on. "Shouldn't you have used the magic word?" "Please! Yes, please!" "Too late. Permission denied." She actually chuckled, I think, as she released her grip and stepped back out of direct contact. I still thought I was going to cum, that it was inevitable no matter how hard how I tried -- until that gut-wrenching moment when the tide turned and IT backed off, burning inside me. Then she was back, turning me by the shoulders to face another direction. "Now take three steps forward. One, two," beside me, but not touching, "three. Good. Now down and give me 10. Go on, 10 pushups." Ridiculous. I hadn't done 3 pushups in years. "No-no, properly." Her foot tapped the inside of my ankles, forcing me to spread and go up on tiptoe. "Better. Now get that cock all the way to the floor..." **** (Me...lol) It took all my resistance, girls. That close I could smell him...wanting so badly to lick some of the sweat from his back. But resist I did. Leaving my hand flat on the carpet, turned palm up. He flinched when I spoke. "Start again. Get that cock down on the carpet." No way. He was done. Shaking all over, simply unable to get down that far. So I used my free hand, flush on his back and pushed him into full collapse...when, of course, his cock finally found my hand. "Would you like to cum now?" "Yes please," he gasped. "Then next time obey my instructions. Permission denied." I pulled out my hand, licking my fingers as I collected my riding crop and came around to stand by his head. "Kiss my feet." He had to wriggle forward a few inches, found my right foot. "Properly." I dropped to my hanches again, delivering a sharp crop blow to his butt cheek. "Each toe separately. Wrong." Another blow, to the other cheek. "Start at one end or the other. Big toe or baby. Come on, I'm losing patience." And I dished out a half dozen quick sharp strokes, forcing him to orient himself under stress. **** (Excerpt from account written under Instruction) I was right on the verge again!...had to resist the urge to wriggle on the carpet. Consciously resist. "Better. Now the other foot." I kept expecting the next blow...tingling. But it didn't come. "Good. Now work up my legs, go on." Stretching, arching upwards, apparently being a 'good boy' -- finally getting close enough to smell her pussy. At which point, she dropped away. "Now you can satisfy me. Quickly." Superb. Soaking wet pussy. Fragrant and tangy on the tongue. **** (Me...lol) It was quick now. He was talented, eager. I used my free hand in his hair to direct him and the crop on first one buttocks then the other to gee him up. When I had him roll-over, and squatted down on his talented tongue, I rode hard, using the crop on his thighs, feeling each grunt, loving the way he re-doubled his efforts to please after each stroke...and did I cum! Squeezing down. The full light show, maybe even a second or two of black...perfect, girls. Just perfect. I was settled on his upper chest, my breath slowly returning to normal. "Would you like to cum now?" I teased at his balls, prising at them gently with the flat end of the crop. They were hard, full, stretched to the max. "Yes, please." A pleading note in his tone. "So next time you'll use the mat properly right away?" "Yes." "And let me tie you up if I want to?" "Yes." "Good. Go for it. Oh, and you'd better spray my thighs or else..." He did. In fact, I could dip my finger in his spunk coating my lower belly!