Certain things are most suited for the night. Not the things that probably come to mind, but the things that shake the very core of your being, like grand epiphanies and discoveries... undecipherable in that moment, but undoubtedly undisputed. The beginnings of these events, be it day, night or otherwise are decidedly lovely and enchanting on most occasions, however this never serves as an indicator for what is to come. The cloak of the night serves to enhance, electrify and enchant, clouding judgement and swaying the morals of an otherwise strong individual. In some instances... most instances, that is a positive facet of the occurrence Yet...not this morning. This morning, a short-lived but eye-opening and invigorating part of my life meets it's demise. I can't help but want to cry, scream and hurt, not because of the carnality of what has transpired and what I'm relinquishing (though that is a relevant factor), but because of what I believe could have been.The pleasure that could have been derived from the company of each other, physically, mentally and in all other capacities.The relief. The answer. I don't know whether or not my excitement bested me tonight, or if my perception or analysis of my reactions to certain actions and individuals was real, but I don't quite think I'm ready for what I believe I did manage to grasp hold of. I can't fathom a world in which I would be at this point in time. For such a powerful emotion to come from not one, but two amazing and intellectual forces at once would likely overwhelm me, because although I believe I am capable and suited for any task, emotions cannot be categorized and dealt with like tasks can. Perhaps in a couple of years, I'll look back and laugh at my naivety. Perhaps, I'll look back with jaded negativity and wish I had not done what I have. But that is not this moment. Now I mourn, for the cruelty which I have imparted (unlike any I've ever thought myself capable of), the dreams which I have broken, and the person I'll never know in every capacity.
I wish I could be held.
Sunday, December 4, 2011
Friday, October 21, 2011
The Submission/Domination Mambo Part 1
I sat at the computer, typing up my lab report, whilst listening to Einaudi's Dietro Casa. Such is the banality of my life but, I don't mind so much, because my mind gets to wander, and I finally get time to think, peacefully, quietly and uninterrupted.
My mind automatically turns to Jake. As if he's the lone thought inhabiting it. Like there's nothing else. Firstly, I think about Wednesday. We were just confirming our usual 1:30 meeting. Saturday. I suppose before I go any further, I should explain our relationship.
Jake is my sexual partner, and best friend. He's also Allison's sexual partner. It was a nice little agreement we'd all worked out sophomore year, and two years later, we've yet to find fault with it. We indulge him, play with him, and control him. He indulges us, teases us and controls us. It's never been spoken who will hold the power in any of our meetings. A silent agreement, of sorts.
Anyway, Wednesday night, around 12:50 am, I had texted him to confirm our Saturday. I was itching for it. Longing to be filled with the cock of a man I knew could satisfy me. Could control me. Could make me scream.
Me: Are we still on for Saturday? I'd try to have it here, but my Uncle's going to be home.
Him: Don't sweat it darling. The house is all mine Saturday.
Me; Good, I was a little scared, but now I can't stop thinking about that lovely cock of yours. Not that I stopped..
Then, he sends me a picture. Not just any picture. A picture of him. In bed. The bed he's fucked me in so many times. He's fully covered, but there's a clear outline of his thick, hard cock.
Him: Well, it's time for me to go to sleep. I've to wake in 4 hours. Sleep well, sweetheart.
Me: I fucking hate you. You terrible, beautiful man.
Him: :). I know. I fucking hate you, too. Sleep well, gorgeous.
So, I sit there, reasonably pathetically...and I couldn't help but periodically look at the picture, even though I know the exactly the curvature..the hardness and the length of his cock . The growing wetness between my legs only served to distract me, and as I tried in vain to continue typing, I found myself inevitably mind fucked. Firstly, the fabric of my shirt brushing against my bare nipples with my every breath, was driving me insane. It's cold in New York in October, and they had been hard before...him...but they suddenly became a distraction.
As I strip my shirt over my head, I can sense Allison's eyes on me. Watching from the bed... I had almost forgotten about her presence, entrapped in my work. I throw it at her, and she giggles. Soft and girly. Adorable.
"What, I can't look?" She questions, a smirk playing at her lips. I sigh loudly and close the laptop. I never get any work done. I stand and walk towards her, slowly. I smile, bite my lip and straddle her on the bed. Pressing my damp cunt against her leg.
"What are you looking at?" I ask, innocently. I know what my girl likes. She doesn't answer me. She simply stares at my breasts, traces a chilled finger over my nipple, and down my abdomen, stopping at my belly button. I place one hand on her cheek, knot it in her hair and tug softly. It makes her moan. Softly..but audibly. It always does."I expect you to answer me, love. Didn't we establish that?" I say. Then, she blushes. The apples of her cheeks flooding with blood. "Yes, Rachel." she answers. I lean forward, brush my lips across the top of her ear and murmur my question again. My hips, with a mind of their own start to grind into her leg. I kiss my way to her neck, biting her earlobe gently, leaving kisses along her jawline.
"You. Your breasts and their perfection. Your nipples, specifically. It's as if they're begging for my mouth." She nearly moans the sentence as she lifts my head from her neck, and I groan in frustration. She looks up at me, her eyes bright, mischievous and beautiful..and she runs her tongue over my nipple, raising her hand to the other, refusing to neglect it. I can't help but let out a breathy moan. Her mouth provides a delightful contrast to the frigid air, warm , wet and spectacular. I let her force me back onto the bed, her between my legs, tracing circles on my inner thighs with her delicate fingers.
I smile and wiggle my way out from underneath her, every single nerve ending in my body screaming "Yes. Oh, fuck, yes." The confusion that shows on her face is absolutely adorable. I stand and step out of my shorts, making sure to pull down my underwear slightly, but not all the way. Allison starts crawling toward me, but I stop her with a single word.
"Stay."
I slip my hand inside my damp panties, and stroke my clit. Right in front of her. It feels so damn good touching myself. It's better knowing it's turning someone on. Allison moans. Loudly.
"Shut up." I say. Now she's visibly frustrated. I slip one finger inside myself and stroke my g-spot slowly. My groans, moans, gasps and sighs increasing in volume...my knees quivering. I never stop looking at her. I'm so close to coming all over my hand.
"Touch yourself for me, slut." I say. The word she responds to most.
"Yes, Rachel." she gasps as she kicks off her own shorts and slides two fingers into her drenched cunt. She gasps and writhes on the bed, fucking herself in front of me with such fervent desire, and a sexy as fuck sense of abandon. I watch her fingers slide in and out, matching her pace. She moans my name and I feel myself clench around my fingers, sending a powerful orgasm right through me. I come, moaning softly, despite the intensity of the sudden orgasm.
"Rachel, can I please come for you?" She asks. She's panting, groaning and bucking wildly against her hand. I smile and whisper "No, not yet. Tell me how you love touching yourself for me."
She whimpers in response and slows the motion of hers hips. I climb onto the bed and slide another finger into her, forcing a long moan out of her.
"Did I say you could slow down, my little fucktoy?" She shakes her head and mouths the word no. "I can't hear you," I say as I pump my finger in and out of her furiously. "What did you say?" I ask. My cunt is pulsing.
" Fuck no, Rachel." Her words are surrounded by whimpers, and I fucking love it. "I love fucking myself for you, Rachel. It's so fucking sexy watching you come to me fucking myself for you. Watching you plunge your fingers into your wet pussy because of me." I pulled my finger out of her and drove it straight into my cunt. Fuck.
"Please, can I come for you, Rachel? Don't you want to watch your little slut come for you?" She begged.
"Only because you asked so nicely. Come for me, slut." I commanded.
"Thank you, Rachel." she practically screamed those words at me, her entire body spasming in apparent ecstasy as she arched off the bed, her frame fragile, beautiful and delicate. I couldn't quite make out what she was saying, but it didn't matter. I needed to hold her. I crawled over her jerking body, writhing in pleasure and wrapped my arms around her. She convulsed hard. Violently almost. When she stopped she was shaking. I pressed my lips against her beautiful brown head.
"I love you." I whispered. She gripped me tightly and buried her head in my chest, her tiny body still trembling. I laughed softly and held her until she stopped shaking. Finally, she lifted her head, met my blue eyes with her own, a piercing gray, and smiled, biting her lip in a fashion I knew all too well. Little fucking nympho.
My mind automatically turns to Jake. As if he's the lone thought inhabiting it. Like there's nothing else. Firstly, I think about Wednesday. We were just confirming our usual 1:30 meeting. Saturday. I suppose before I go any further, I should explain our relationship.
Jake is my sexual partner, and best friend. He's also Allison's sexual partner. It was a nice little agreement we'd all worked out sophomore year, and two years later, we've yet to find fault with it. We indulge him, play with him, and control him. He indulges us, teases us and controls us. It's never been spoken who will hold the power in any of our meetings. A silent agreement, of sorts.
Anyway, Wednesday night, around 12:50 am, I had texted him to confirm our Saturday. I was itching for it. Longing to be filled with the cock of a man I knew could satisfy me. Could control me. Could make me scream.
Me: Are we still on for Saturday? I'd try to have it here, but my Uncle's going to be home.
Him: Don't sweat it darling. The house is all mine Saturday.
Me; Good, I was a little scared, but now I can't stop thinking about that lovely cock of yours. Not that I stopped..
Then, he sends me a picture. Not just any picture. A picture of him. In bed. The bed he's fucked me in so many times. He's fully covered, but there's a clear outline of his thick, hard cock.
Him: Well, it's time for me to go to sleep. I've to wake in 4 hours. Sleep well, sweetheart.
Me: I fucking hate you. You terrible, beautiful man.
Him: :). I know. I fucking hate you, too. Sleep well, gorgeous.
So, I sit there, reasonably pathetically...and I couldn't help but periodically look at the picture, even though I know the exactly the curvature..the hardness and the length of his cock . The growing wetness between my legs only served to distract me, and as I tried in vain to continue typing, I found myself inevitably mind fucked. Firstly, the fabric of my shirt brushing against my bare nipples with my every breath, was driving me insane. It's cold in New York in October, and they had been hard before...him...but they suddenly became a distraction.
As I strip my shirt over my head, I can sense Allison's eyes on me. Watching from the bed... I had almost forgotten about her presence, entrapped in my work. I throw it at her, and she giggles. Soft and girly. Adorable.
"What, I can't look?" She questions, a smirk playing at her lips. I sigh loudly and close the laptop. I never get any work done. I stand and walk towards her, slowly. I smile, bite my lip and straddle her on the bed. Pressing my damp cunt against her leg.
"What are you looking at?" I ask, innocently. I know what my girl likes. She doesn't answer me. She simply stares at my breasts, traces a chilled finger over my nipple, and down my abdomen, stopping at my belly button. I place one hand on her cheek, knot it in her hair and tug softly. It makes her moan. Softly..but audibly. It always does."I expect you to answer me, love. Didn't we establish that?" I say. Then, she blushes. The apples of her cheeks flooding with blood. "Yes, Rachel." she answers. I lean forward, brush my lips across the top of her ear and murmur my question again. My hips, with a mind of their own start to grind into her leg. I kiss my way to her neck, biting her earlobe gently, leaving kisses along her jawline.
"You. Your breasts and their perfection. Your nipples, specifically. It's as if they're begging for my mouth." She nearly moans the sentence as she lifts my head from her neck, and I groan in frustration. She looks up at me, her eyes bright, mischievous and beautiful..and she runs her tongue over my nipple, raising her hand to the other, refusing to neglect it. I can't help but let out a breathy moan. Her mouth provides a delightful contrast to the frigid air, warm , wet and spectacular. I let her force me back onto the bed, her between my legs, tracing circles on my inner thighs with her delicate fingers.
I smile and wiggle my way out from underneath her, every single nerve ending in my body screaming "Yes. Oh, fuck, yes." The confusion that shows on her face is absolutely adorable. I stand and step out of my shorts, making sure to pull down my underwear slightly, but not all the way. Allison starts crawling toward me, but I stop her with a single word.
"Stay."
I slip my hand inside my damp panties, and stroke my clit. Right in front of her. It feels so damn good touching myself. It's better knowing it's turning someone on. Allison moans. Loudly.
"Shut up." I say. Now she's visibly frustrated. I slip one finger inside myself and stroke my g-spot slowly. My groans, moans, gasps and sighs increasing in volume...my knees quivering. I never stop looking at her. I'm so close to coming all over my hand.
"Touch yourself for me, slut." I say. The word she responds to most.
"Yes, Rachel." she gasps as she kicks off her own shorts and slides two fingers into her drenched cunt. She gasps and writhes on the bed, fucking herself in front of me with such fervent desire, and a sexy as fuck sense of abandon. I watch her fingers slide in and out, matching her pace. She moans my name and I feel myself clench around my fingers, sending a powerful orgasm right through me. I come, moaning softly, despite the intensity of the sudden orgasm.
"Rachel, can I please come for you?" She asks. She's panting, groaning and bucking wildly against her hand. I smile and whisper "No, not yet. Tell me how you love touching yourself for me."
She whimpers in response and slows the motion of hers hips. I climb onto the bed and slide another finger into her, forcing a long moan out of her.
"Did I say you could slow down, my little fucktoy?" She shakes her head and mouths the word no. "I can't hear you," I say as I pump my finger in and out of her furiously. "What did you say?" I ask. My cunt is pulsing.
" Fuck no, Rachel." Her words are surrounded by whimpers, and I fucking love it. "I love fucking myself for you, Rachel. It's so fucking sexy watching you come to me fucking myself for you. Watching you plunge your fingers into your wet pussy because of me." I pulled my finger out of her and drove it straight into my cunt. Fuck.
"Please, can I come for you, Rachel? Don't you want to watch your little slut come for you?" She begged.
"Only because you asked so nicely. Come for me, slut." I commanded.
"Thank you, Rachel." she practically screamed those words at me, her entire body spasming in apparent ecstasy as she arched off the bed, her frame fragile, beautiful and delicate. I couldn't quite make out what she was saying, but it didn't matter. I needed to hold her. I crawled over her jerking body, writhing in pleasure and wrapped my arms around her. She convulsed hard. Violently almost. When she stopped she was shaking. I pressed my lips against her beautiful brown head.
"I love you." I whispered. She gripped me tightly and buried her head in my chest, her tiny body still trembling. I laughed softly and held her until she stopped shaking. Finally, she lifted her head, met my blue eyes with her own, a piercing gray, and smiled, biting her lip in a fashion I knew all too well. Little fucking nympho.
Water.
I stood in the shower today at 7:42 am. My classes start at 8:03 and I don't even give a fuck. I've been over worked, sleep deprived and so fucking horny I can't sit still. So, as I stood in the shower I let my hand delve in between my legs, gently teasing myself, running a finger along my clit, pressing lightly, causing a slight tremble in my legs. I thought about last night. The night I had sex with my girlfriend for the first time all week. How it was so damn good...and exactly what I needed. I brought my and to my lips and traced the wetness I found there across them. I wished it was her wetness on my lips my tongue danced behind my lips for her..and her only. I turned the water temperature down...so it was colder, bringing my dark nipples to their peak. I longed to push my fingers up inside myself and give in to my desires...but I also wanted to pretend my fingers were her fingers...her mouth. Teasing me lightly, and taking advantage of my arousal. I slid one finger into myself, and I gasped. It was so cold and on the inside I was so warm. A violent, but wanted invasion. I ground my hips into my hand and tried so very hard not to scream my pleasure. Then I inserted two. I was so wet it was barely an addition.
I curled my fingers inside myself..grazing that special spot...one of many things that makes me whimper. I was moving my hand to meet my hips, then. Slamming down onto my fingers with such force, the sound could be heard over the water of the shower.
"Fuck." I gasped. I'm too good for myself. I came. With absolutely no warning. No slow build up. Just an onslaught of pleasure.. I let the waves hit me and I sank to the floor of the tub.
With my still wet hands, a combination of water and my morning passion, I reached out for my phone. I opened my texts from her. Started to type, the mechanical vibrations traveling through my fingers, up my arm and into my still spinning head..
Me: I need to fuck you tonight.
Her: Oh? And what makes you think you deserve that?
Me: You drove me mad in the shower. It wasn't a question. I was telling you. I'm going to fuck you tonight...make you scream my name and beg me with that filthy fucking mouth of yours to come.
Her: That's what I like to hear.
I curled my fingers inside myself..grazing that special spot...one of many things that makes me whimper. I was moving my hand to meet my hips, then. Slamming down onto my fingers with such force, the sound could be heard over the water of the shower.
"Fuck." I gasped. I'm too good for myself. I came. With absolutely no warning. No slow build up. Just an onslaught of pleasure.. I let the waves hit me and I sank to the floor of the tub.
With my still wet hands, a combination of water and my morning passion, I reached out for my phone. I opened my texts from her. Started to type, the mechanical vibrations traveling through my fingers, up my arm and into my still spinning head..
Me: I need to fuck you tonight.
Her: Oh? And what makes you think you deserve that?
Me: You drove me mad in the shower. It wasn't a question. I was telling you. I'm going to fuck you tonight...make you scream my name and beg me with that filthy fucking mouth of yours to come.
Her: That's what I like to hear.
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