The U Turn 02:29
hey
Hey.
it's been a while
Yeah.
interlude, needed to get some distance, from some challenges
I thought you were waiting for Summer.
mmm i did too
I didn't really want to wait
...me neither
Haha.
i understand you're going home?
I need space. To think.
...Space a vital breathing thing...
Yes.
i gather you'll be doing some heavy inking out there
Exactly.
Chapter Two
Beck could not believe what he was seeing. There was a woman, alone in the hotel hot tub with her back to him. She was on her knees, facing one of the jets, writhing rhythmically. How did she not hear the gate latch as I entered? He wondered as he stood in awe of the erotic spectacle before him.
Instantly he felt torn as to what to do. Should be make some kind of noise and let her know she was no longer alone? Be a gentleman and just leave quietly? The problem with those two options was that they both required he stop watching. He simply could not. A woman experiencing pleasure was a beautiful thing to behold. He was mesmerized. However, his guilt grew in tandem with his arousal and he knew it was wrong to watch without her knowledge.
From her body language, Beck could easily tell she was nearing orgasm. She was irresistibly gorgeous in this uninhibited state. He sighed. Almost regretfully he loudly cleared his throat to alert her to his presence. She startled in such a dramatic fashion, a laugh involuntarily erupted from him. However, she did not hear it because she was briefly underwater after falling from her “position”.
As she surfaced, her wet hair plastered against her face. She hurriedly tried to push her hair out of her eyes and simultaneously struggled to adjust her bikini. Beck thought she looked like a sexy, frustrated octopus. He also thought it was just about the cutest damned thing he’d ever seen. She refused to look at him and was blushing furiously. Beck wondered if she may say something to him, but she remained silent, suddenly still and looking pensively at the water.
Recognition suddenly clicked for Beck. Ava. Her name tag read ‘Ava’. She was at the conference mixer earlier. He did not get the chance to personally meet her, but he certainly did notice her. He was sure that every male there had noticed her.
“Ava, right?” Beck asked as he eased himself into the hot tub.
She froze and stared at him.
”I’m Beck. Nice to meet you.” He winked at her.
After a few awkward moments, Ava rose and made her way out of the hot tub. Beck did not look as she wrapped her towel around her and gathered her belongings nearby. He heard her quietly swearing as the gate swung shut behind her. Beck could not stop grinning as Ava left. Her flip-flops slapping as quickly as possible through the breezeway.
Chapter One:
https://www.theprose.com/post/814695/chapter-one
Shall We Play a Game?
‘Today, we’re going to play a little game.’ I could hear the laughter in his voice.
‘A game, Sir? What will we play and who else is playing?’ I ask knowing that it is only us two at the moment.
‘Ahhhh…a game of my own creation, but you do mistake me. I should have said that you are going to play a game, while I get to watch.If you please me, then I’ll reward you. If you don’t please me, then you won’t. Quite straightforward, really? Are you ready, slave?’
‘I’m not sure, Sir, what if I’m not up to it?’ He just keeps looking at me with that gentle smile on his lips. I know, I’m stalling. ‘Yes, Sir, I’m ready.’
’Shall we call it Noah’s Ark?’ I gape at him. What in the world have I agreed to? Are animals soon to be paraded around and if so, what in the world am I meant to do with them? My mind tries to scan through the possibilities but nothing seems to quite compute in my head. I look at him a bit panicky. He laughs, the deep, rich sound that always reassures me. ‘I apologise for my little joke. Maybe it would be better called 2 by 2.’ I still look at him as baffled as before, though I can imagine a lot of ways a game named 2 by 2 could play out. Speculating will only drive me crazy. I try my best to look calm, cool and collected, while hiding my twitching hands behind me.
‘You have been learning. I can see how hard it is for you to hold back, to wait, but you’ve come such a long way. I’m proud of you. This is how it’s going to work. First, you’re going to remove your, I have no doubt, already wet, pants. Just throw them to the side.’ I watch him following my every move with his eyes. I take my time, tease it out. I want to see how much his restraint costs him. Unfortunately, he is much better at this than I am. I finally throw my pants across the room for emphasis. And stand there in my dress with nothing on underneath. ‘Oh yes, you’re quite the dissident.’ Okay, so it’s hard to play the rebel when all you really want to do is submit.
’Now, please have a seat there on the chair. Perfect. I have set a timer for you on my phone to run for two minutes. During those two minutes, you must play with your clit, but you must not come. When the timer goes off, you must cease all contact For the next two minutes. Again, when the timer goes off, you will touch yourself again for two minutes, likewise, you are not to come during that time. Now, do you have any questions, pet?’
‘Will I be allowed to come at the end? Or during the game, Sir?’ I hate hearing the desire in my voice, the raw need.
‘We will have to wait and see just how well you do. Now, lean back in the chair, place your feet up on the footstool. Excellent. Now, please pull your dress up over your hips so I can see just what a hungry little cunt you have. Your time starts…now.’
i reach down and find my clit. I take it between my two fingers and slowly stroke it back and forth. I feel my juices start to flow and I feel my arousal peeping out from under the surface. I roll my head back on the cushions as I feel my hunger start to grow. I can feel that all too familiar desire to start snaking over me. It feels so good and my world narrows to a very small awareness. It’s just me, there, pleasing myself and hopefully him. Two minutes, I can do that. That’d be easy. Even as I think it, I can feel my fingers speed up of their own volition. I can feel my lips starting to undulate under the attention of my fingers. As I’m distracted, I almost don’t hear the timer go off. ‘Hands away, slave,’ he lightly reprimands. I hadn’t actually realised I’d not removed them. Looking like a kid who had their hand caught in the cookie jar, I quickly whipped my hand away with my most innocent look on my face. Though I’ve removed my fingers, I can feel that gentle tug of desire, the call for my hand to return and continue to raise my arousal. I try counting the seconds remaining, but fail horribly. How long can two minutes take for crying out loud? Just as I begin to wonder if he has reset the timer, the little alarm goes off. I don’t have to be told twice. My hand moves quick as a flash to return to its gentle thrumming of my clit. I take only a moment to try to catch his eye, gauge his mood, but it’s no use. All I really want to do is masturbate until I have a full release and fall asleep satiated.
My hand whips back and I warn myself to be careful. Go slow. Pace yourself. However, I ignore all of these helpful nuggets of advice and rapidly lose myself to the sensations running through me. I can hear my breathing speed up. My feet start to brace against the footstool and my hips rise just a little bit into the air. Oh yes, that is definitely how I like it. My fingers speed up and my desire starts to fill my mind. I push up harder. I can feel my body responding to my own hand. ‘Oh yes,’ I mutter under my breath ad my hips start lifting higher and my head falls back further. Just as I’m getting into the groove, I hear the tinkle of that damnable timer. I roll my eyes, make a concerted effort to pull my hand away from my clit. I try to press my legs together, thinking that might help, but it actually only makes it worse. I look around, trying to find a clock. Surely, it’s been two minutes. I can’t wait to dive back in. i count in my head, but when I get to the full two minutes, the timer still hasn’t beeped. Is he messing with me? Did he turn on the timer? Just then, I hear the tinny little sound of the alarm.
I slide my fingers immediately into my folds, seeking out the solid nugget in the core of it all. Just as I start strumming myself, I hear him clear his throat. ‘I find it difficult to see just exactly what you’re doing, slut. Spread your knees open please. All the way down now. There we go. That wasn’t so bad was it?’ he calmly states. It’s not like it’s his body being tormented. I pull my knees wide open feeling the air against my sensitive and aroused flesh. ‘Higher now,’ he commands and my hips push up even farther away from chair. I can feel myself pumping, wishing for anything to fill me up, to fill that hole. My hips are picking up a rhythm now, shoving upward, each thrust more abandoned than the one before. ‘Oh, now that’s looking much better, whore,’ he goads me on. Then, I hear it, but I don’t register it until the resounding smack lands across my most sensitive skin. I jerk towards the leather belt that has just left its own contribution to my arousal. I can’t help it as I moan in pleasure. Swish, the belt cuts through the air again as it lands again. I can feel a whimper about to emerge when the time goes off. I can’t pull my hand away. Somewhere in the back of my mind I know I need to but I’m not quite convinced that I can. I feel a warm hand wrap over mine and pull it away. ’Do you remember the rules? he asks, ‘if you please me, you will be rewarded. Now, do you really think that disobeying me is a way to earn my approval?’ I don’t need to look, I know he will be wearing that smirk across his face. I mutter under my breath and force my fingers away.
I try to lower my hips, but they have a mind of their own. Sitting in the chair like this, everything is bared. I thrust harder and harder upward, desperately wanting something to fuck me and fuck me hard. I can hear you approach the chair, you kneel down. Could it be? Will you take care of my hunger? I hold my breath in anticipatio, just as I try to get a reign on my desire, I feel the light breeze as you blow lightly, the wind caressing my burning heat. I can’t take it anymore. ‘Fuck me, please! Just fuck me! Anything at all! Just do It!’ I hear the order and command in my own voice and know instantly, I’ve doomed myself for longer. i squeeze my legs together, but soon pull them apart as it just causes more friction of which I very much wish.
The belt comes down on me three times in rapid succession each lick a reminder that I am not the Master. I close my eyes. Some might think I close them to hide my pain, but I’m actually trying to hide my arousal to not show just what a little pain slut I am. Blissfully, the timer dinags and I am allowed once again to touch myself. ‘You dirty, hungry, little whore. You like that, don’t you? Let me see just how bad you want it. Fuck the air! Let me see your cunt muscles clenching, trying so hard to wrap themselves around anything that might fill your hunger!’ I cry out and just start thrusting my hips in a frenzied desperate dance to be filled up. I lose myself momentarily and SMACK! The belt slaps against the tender flesh of my breasts, first one then the other. I cry out and I beg and plead. ‘Anything, anything, Sir, whatever you want, just please let me cum. May I cum now, please sir? Please?’ I whimper like a little puppy. I try to reach up higher, shoving my hips towards anything near, then I hear it. It seems a million miles away, but I can still hear it.
5 - 4 - 3 - 2 -1 Cum bitch!
I scream and lights explode behind my eyes. My ears are ringing and I feel like my inside is being riI tr
I try to pull away from my hand, unaware that it is my own hand that is tormenting me. I keep stroking, bringing myself to the edge time and again. I scream over and over. Each orgasm shaking me and make me aware that I am becoming overly sensitive and if I keep playing with myself, I might be out of commission for the next few days, but I can’t bring myself to stop. Stroke and scream, stroke and scream, over and over agin until I collapse against the cushions. Replete.
Robots Love
Two separate robots, both trying to scam people into dating them and getting money. Find each other, unbeknownst to either of them. And this continues into them typing and typing and forming a bond of robot love. It's weird and not understandable but within the robots computer systems you can see the circuit of love being formed.
Carpe diem penis
Way back when yours truly sought selfish succor courtesy extramarital liaisons (quite aghast and repentant at that mindset now), I dappled writing erotica an example of which follows, which aery mission constitutes insinuating erogenous pleasure within the mind ova female reader in general, and one lovely gal who experiences admiration reading missives of mine.
Intent here = finagling, landing and rounding
into hot blooded, miniature, two lipped port of Venus
mindfully, poetically, telepathically, and yearningly.
As pendulum swings within
infinite pit from the Alcatraz tower,
premature ejaculation occurs
signalling nocturnal emissions
man handled hand pumped power
I Noah goot an available pick cha right now
at this late er rather early sixth ninth hour
boot mebbe je ne sais quois
essence about me
can rise (from the following words)
like bread baked with yeast and flour
courtesy gently beseeching shy
Norwegian bachelor doth cower.
Time elapsed with silent tick tock
the following erotic fantasy
as tongue wagging whet dream
that found me little tower shock
absorbed within pubic hair
hard as the Prudential rock,
whereby no white cap
fast moving edifying stream
entering the port of clitoris
near twin labial lock
hoop fully provides a place
underneath prim and proper frock
of fictitious adulteress
named Hester Prynne
for my wienerschnitzel
to dock of flavor able toward
an average democratic cock.
Yours truly disinclined
to upset the status quo
anyway...for starters hello kitty,
and this hopefully
the start of a friendship
whereby seeds of life yield
White Lily Or relationship
that will blossom and grow
more valuable than
any amount of $ -- dough.
This pent up urge to fondle
one or both wonderful womanly teat
found a quixotic whim to meet
thru classifieds which offers
a common way to meet
imagining the outcome
of such of said delectable feat
but fearing the odds
twould be stacked way to high to beat.
Now let each of us
give reasonable rhyme to yell
billy me best not to stay idle
for exciting poetic talent doth well
up slumbering libidinal longings
this humble not so long fellow could tell
and just maybe coax ye
to bear thine chest for e'en just a spell
forsooth these to behold
an apt comparison to a flesh
born physiognomy portrayal
of mountains tipped with nipples
and that balm in the cleavage
of a wondrous pilsner
pheromone seasoned dell.
The erogenous clitoris awash
with for his -- mine --
oral meal to baste
the special elixirs -
ooh how this tongue
twould crave to nibble
upon the aureole and suckle
to drawn out milky paste
we can fondle, kiss and taste,
thence descending to the area
just a tad lower than thy waste.
I will try by hook or crook
to weasel my erectile prick
would strive to hook and exhaust itself
after getting a close up look
at each and every pubic covered cranny,
and moist warm and tasty nook
tasting the sweet nectar
my mouth already salivates
as my very late paternal grandfather
would markedly comment yum zuck.
This sexually celibate penile forced male
fancies feeling bodily heat
from you and maybe hold
his little flaccid
itty bitty teensy weensy cock
in one or t'other hand
(considered in my mind
somewhat insubstantial
in width, length, girth and breadth
and NOT so grand
at least compared and contrasted
with wish for larger male gonadal gland
yet nonetheless disease free, healthy,
copacetic, holistic, magnetic,
narcissistic, organic and caucasian
Trader Joe's whole foods brand)
which little circumsized penis
recently christened believe me
Uncle Seamus horny weiner,
whence gently caressed,
would magically transform
from a limp biscuit and begin
to expand with veins bulging
and popping and ready
to ready to spew forth
sought after seminal sticky contraband
thrust inside one or
t'other choice orifices cum will land.
Within carnal venal zone
thine trouser snake can speak
history spoken in soft whispery tone
across smartass telephone
hoping to hear ye pleasantly moan
orgasmic pangs of arousal
generating synchronized glottal groan
courtesy hardened bone.
No matter your religion, race or creed
gut wrenching flattery I promise to exceed,
I take a minor risk yes indeed
to communicate at greased lightning speed,
who -- contrary to any rumors --
does not smoke liquor nor drink weed.
In the silence
I close my eyes. I take a deep breath and exhale slowly. I open my eye and raise my arm. I shake my head, lower my arm and inhale sharply. I try to count as I breath out. ’This isn’t going to get any better,’ I tell myself. I decide just to keep my eyes closed. Maybe it will be easier that way. I raise my right arm, I reach out into the darkness, and let out the breath I was holding. I rap solidly on the door before me. I can hear footsteps approaching. I can’t face it. I should turn and go, but that would really defeat the purpose. As I hear the door unlock and the hinges start to creak, I lower my head ever so slightly but I open my eyes. As the door swings open, it’s almost as if motion is frozen in time. There’s a stillness, a shock, that neither of us has quite recovered from. I can hear the tremor in my voice as I quietly speak. Just one word. ‘Sir.’
He stands there with a tea towel in his hand, just looking at me. Was this a mistake after all? Should I not have come? I can feel the pleading in my eyes. He merely steps back and waves his arm to the side, ushering me in. Still, he hasn’t spoken. I try to find my voice. It comes out almost like a croak. ‘I thought you might have need of me.’ Still, no response. I approach, taking his hand in mine and gently pull him towards the sofa. He sits and just looks baffled. I take the tea towel from his hand and walk towards the kitchen.
I find a sink full of dishes, and boxes scattered all about the room. I roll up my sleeves and start washing up. Slowly, methodically, I make my way through the first mound of dishes, the only sound I hear is the clinking of the dishes as I wash each one. I pull the plug out of the drain and as I hear the water trickle out of the sink, I grab a clean saucepan, fill it with water and set it on the hob to boil. I look around, opening cupboards searching for what I need, realising that it may all still be packed. Eventually, my search proves fruitful as I find a mug. I reach into my backpack that I’d discarded earlier and pull out some proper tea. Once the water boils, I pour it gently over the tea leaves, waiting for it to brew perfectly. I strain Out the tea leaves and make my way back into the other room. He is still sitting where I’d directed him, looking thoroughly baffled. I give him the cup of tea and step back and kneel.
He shakes his head as if he can’t quite believe I’m there, in front of him. He reaches out and touches me, as if he’s afraid I might melt away into the realm of hallucinations. Okay, clearly it’s been a shock. A bit more of a surprise than I thought it would be. I still can’t tell what he’s thinking. cant predict what he will do next. He looks exhausted. No matter what he thinks, I believe I made the right move. He sips his tea and just keeps his eyes on me. I wait. It’s not my strength but it seems to be what he needs of me. As he finishes his tea, I gently take the mug from his hand and return it to the kitchen. I return to him. I do a quick assessment of the flat. I grab a pillow and toss it towards the arm of the sofa. I approach apprehensively. I place my hands on his shoulders and turn his body and gently push him down onto the sofa. I grab the blanket off the back and drape it over him. I brush the backs of my fingers across his cheek. ‘You do have need of me,’ I state boldly, wishing I was feeling more confident of myself. ‘Sleep? Please?’ With that, I turn and return to the kitchen.
As the sink refills for the next load of dishes to wash, I look around. It is a lot for any person. I reassure myself. It was good I came. I fall into a rhythm and between each load, I sneak a peek out into the lounge. He is sleeping peacefully. I move quietly.
From the kitchen, I move to the bedroom. I start unpacking clothes and folding them and putting them into drawers. Hopefully, he won’t mind my organisation of his things. I grab hangers and start hanging up the clothes that should go in the closet. I smile to myself as I remember his threats and his follow through of just what he could do with a hanger. I found it hard to sit down for the better part of a week after that encounter. I lose myself in my reminiscing.
I break down the now empty boxes and set them next to the front door in a neat pile. I make my way across to him. I sit on the floor and for a few minutes beside him. I listen to the reassuring sound of his breathing. Just seeing him there, resting, made the trip worthwhile. I lean forward and kiss his cheek. I look around. Right. Books.
I find his keys on a hook by the door. I let myself out and wander out to the street. I know what I’m looking for, I just have no idea where I am. I roam the local neighbourhood until I spot what I need. A few blocks away, behind a small shop, there is a stack of milk crates. Just what every book lover needs. I make several trips and bring them back to the flat, being painfully careful not to make a sound.
I go through the boxes, organising all the books in alphabetical and Dewey order, I am a librarian after all, I could hardly do less. I hum along to the songs in my head and as the light fades away and darkness begins to steal its way into the flat, I finish with the last of them. I add the most recent boxes to the existing pile. I look around, well pleased.
I sit on the floor by the sofa debating what to do next. He needs his sleep so badly. Do I wake him to feed him or do I let him sleep. In the end, he looks so peaceful that I can’t bring myself to wake him.
I curl up in a ball on the ground next to the sofa and I wait. Just wait. I drift off to sleep at some point and wake to the feeling of fingertips brushing lightly through my hair. I look up and smile. The early light is just breaking in through the windows. ‘I came to serve,’ I whisper softly. I move my face upward and kiss the palm of his hand. I still can’t quite read his face. Those doubts from when I jumped on the plane rose up in me again. Is he pleased? Annoyed? I scan his face, looking for any clue. Just as my fear that I may have displeased him by coming here with no word, no notice, starts to reach a feverish pitch, I see it. That slow smile spreading across his lips. He takes in all the progress I’ve made in the last day. He shakes his head, stands to his feet and takes my chin in his hand and raises my eyes to his.
‘I am a very lucky and very happy Master and I am well pleased.’
Stepping up
‘You look worried. Come to me ma cherie.’ I walk across the room and kneel in front of him. ‘There’s no shame in being nervous. You know that you’re safe with me, no?’ I nod my head but the apprehension still courses through me. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I hold it for a moment and slowly let it out again. ‘Better?’ I nod again, still not quite able to find my voice. ‘Shall we get you on footing that you’re more used to then? I think it will help. Stand up for me.’ I stand, but still feel shaky. ‘Now, I want you to reach under the hem of your shirt, and undo your trouser button.’ I do as he asks. ‘The zipper now, pet.’ I briefly raise my eyes to his, and quickly lower them again. I feel the slight tremor in my hands as I comply with his wishes. ‘Perfect. I want you to put your hands inside your waistband and slowly slide your trousers down over your hips, down your thighs, gliding over your calves and then let them puddle there at your feet for a moment. Now that is a sight. Well done. A step closer, pet.’ I do as asked I take one more small step towards him. ‘Stay very still for me now. You can do that for me?’
Finally, I find my voice. ’Yes, Sir. Very still. I can feel my tension beginning to recede. This is a familiar space. One I know well. I even feel a small smile tug at the corner of my mouth. I know what’s coming next, so I stay very still indeed. I feel the cold of the metal as the blade trails up my thigh and then slips under my panties. With one swift flick of his wrist, the knife cuts through one side of my underpants. The blade lightly glides across my stomach as he moves it to my other side. Another flick and the already loose material falls to the floor.
He picks the remains up from the floor and holds it to his nose. ‘My, my little slut. I can smell that sweet scent of desire.’ He lets the slip of clothing run through his fingers. ‘If I had any doubt whatsoever, I think these would give you away, wouldn’t you say? So very wet, my dear girl. I think you want this, don’t you?’
’Yes, Sir. Is this what you wish of me? Then I want nothing more than to please you. I glance over my shoulder, to the figure lingering there leaning against the door.
He laughs out loud at that. ‘My dear little slut, though I’ve no doubt that you wish to please me, I also know that you want this in and of itself. Don’t you, my dear?’ I nod again. ‘No, pet, that won’t suffice this time. I want to hear you say it.’ I shake my head just a quick shake, but I can hear his disapproval in the silence. He waits a moment. ‘Is that a no, slut?’
‘Yes, I mean no, I mean no, it’s not a no. It’s a yes. I do want this, Sir.’ Again, that silence, that waiting for more. My voice comes out just above a whisper, ‘Yes, Sir, I do want this. I have wanted this for quite awhile now, but I also want to do this because I know it will please you.’ I raise my eyes to his face, feel my face growing red and lower them again.
‘Stay still, now, pet. I think it’s time for you to bare all to our guest.’ I still instantly as I feel the cold of the blade again against my skin. He takes my shirt in one hand and splits it in two as he slides the knife effortlessly through the material. ‘I want you to turn around now and face our guest. Then, I want you to drop your shirt to the ground, pick it up in your mouth and crawl across to our guest so he can see those magnificent breasts in motion. Once you’ve reached our guest, I want you to offer him your shirt. I suspect he may need it later. Then, turn, slowly, and on all fours make your way back to me. I want our guest to see just what awaits him.’ I feel the heat rising in my face and I try my best to go slow, to not try to slow the swaying of my very generous breasts. When I reach the gentleman by the door, I raise my head and offer my shirt. He laughs and takes it from my mouth. As I turn to head back to my master, I feel a solid slap land across my ass. It was so unexpected that a moan of pleasure sneaks out of me unbidden. I can hear my master laugh as he knows just what that would have done to me. He has retreated to the chair as I make my way back to him.
‘Isaac, would you be so kind as to join us over here?’ I force my head to stay still and not try to glance back again. ‘Now, Isaac and I have been friends for a very long time. We have shared things from packed lunches to quite astounding misadventures. Tonight, it is you that I would like to share with him. I trust him entirely. I will be here before you the whole time. I know you’ve not been penetrated this way before, but I know you both want this and will enjoy it, but before we get started, I would like you to tell Isaac precisely what you would like him to do to you and how. Understood, slut?’
I am absolutely mortified, but I know unless I do, we will not move forward, and he’s right, I do very much want this. ‘Yes, Sir.’ I clear my throat. ‘Please, Isaac, I would like you to fuck my ass. I’d like you to shove your cock deep inside of me and take me until I can no longer stay on my knees.’ I stop there and this time it’s my Master who clears his throat. I raise my eyes to his. I can tell what he wants of me. He doesn’t have to say it. We’d discussed this beforehand. It’s just so much harder in the moment. My mouth feels unbearably dry. ‘Please, Isaac, it’s important that you know that I like it hard, and fast, slam into me as deeply as you like. Pump me hard and mercilessly. If I please you, please feel free to offer me encouragement in the form of spanking me as you fuck my ass, please.’ I can’t move. I’m so embarrassed. I can’t believe I’ve just revealed these things about myself, these deep, hidden things to a man I’ve never met before. My Master lends me strength.
‘Lubricant?’ He offers a pot to Isaac as easily as if he were offering him a Diet Coke. I feel frozen to the spot. I hear his zipper being undone. The rustle of material. The slight squelch of a hand being dipped into the lubricant and the sound of it being smeared wetly over flesh. I can’t help my mind whirring. How big is he? How much is this going to hurt? Will I enjoy it? Will it be everything I hope? My mind goes blank the minute I feel a hand smack solidly across my ass.
He speaks for the first time. ‘I wanted her to know she has already pleased me,’ he addresses my Master. I start to smile only to have it turn to a gasp as once again, his hand slams down against my flesh. I can’t help myself, I start pushing back against him, my hunger making itself very clear. Twice more in rapid succession, his hand comes down and now I’m grinding my hips back towards his cock. He puts a steadying hand on my back and I can feel him guiding his cock to the entrance of my virgin back hole. ‘Slow and steady to start with or hard and fast?’ He asks. I get the distinct impression it’s not me he asking. I raise my eyes again to my Master.
He smiles at me, kisses my forehead and graciously offers up, ‘as it’s her first time, maybe enter her slowly on the first pass, but once you’re in there, she likes it hard.’ Both men laugh. I can feel it then, just pushing at my hole. I try to shove back, to get it in faster. I want it and I want it now. None of this slow torment. Still, bit by painfully slow bit, I can feel my back passage filling up. I rotate my hips, wanting to feel him everywhere I can. My Master lifts my chin and meets my eyes with his. He holds me there. Deeper and deeper it goes in. I’m starting to buck and tremble. How much more of him is there? I feel myself being pulled apart, and the intrusion continues. After what seems like forever he stops. I swear it feels like he’s going to break through and come out of my mouth. Still, he stays there. He doesn’t move. I’m whimpering, desperate. Still, nothing. I try to push back but he’s holding my hips. I can’t move.
I look into my Master’s eyes. ‘Please, please, this is torture. Please.’ He smiles at me and tilts his head in Isaac’s direction. I swallow my pride. ‘Fuck me! Please! Fuck me now! I need to feel you ploughing into me.’ A sharp slap falls again on my ass and with that, he’s off. He pulls almost all the way out and slams back in deep. I scream at the unexpectedness of it. He starts pumping then hard. Slamming against my ass, shoving in deep, each stroke feeling like it’s ripping me apart, but I’m fooling no one. I’m shoving back hard against him. Riding him, my muscles pumping around his. Urging him on, begging him to go faster and harder. He picks up the tempo. Ramming as deep as he can go, causing me to scream again and again, but it’s the scream of pleasure shaking through me. All the while, my Master is there holding my chin. His eyes looking into mine. I rip my chin away and try to bury my face in his lap, but he firmly grasps my chin again and pulls it up until I have to look him in the eyes. He wants to see my hunger, my abandonment, my desire reflected in my eyes. I feel orgasm after orgasm torn from me and my arms and knees are starting to shake. I’ve lost all sense of time. It could have been a few minutes or hours, but I’m loving it all.
Now, with each dive deep inside of me, a solid smack lands across my ass cheeks. I lose myself. I know I’m moaning, thrashing, screaming, I’ve turned into nothing but sensation, I can feel the sweat dripping off of me, and still he keeps going. I lose myself, I no longer know anything, I just feel. Every movement reverberates through my entire body. My Master’s hand now keeps me upright. I just feel one shockwave after another. Each orgasm following quickly on the heels of the previous one. My ass cheeks are burning from where his hand has encouraged me on. Then I feel him, all the sudden, tensing, stilling and then with a mighty moan shoots his seed deep inside of me. I slam back against him and take it all in. I feel as if I’m barely conscious, but keep my eyes on my Master. He starts to draw out and I can feel my muscles tightening, trying to keep him there, but he pulls himself out. The minute he does, I collapse to the ground. I swim in a haze of nothingness. Every inch of me tingling but exhausted. I can feel his cum seeping out of me, but I can’t move. I lay there, huddled on the ground. I feel hands touch me, stroking my face, soothing words reaching my ears. I feel the heat of a body as it tucks in around me. A few minutes later, I feel the warmth of a body I know so well as my Master tucks in in front of me. The three of us all spooned together. ’Thank you, Sir,’ I try whisper but I’m never quite sure if the sound comes out.
The Robo-Ghost
The best thing about the internet dating sites is what they’ve done for her confidence. She used to think she was attractive, now she knows she is hot. Now she dresses hot, more revealing, while tight-roping on taller heels. She acts differently too, now, but that is the worst thing about the internet dating sites… what they have done to her confidence.
She only swipes on the best, and they always swipe back. Always. She is hot. Super hot. She must be. She is a princess. Doesn’t a princess deserve the best?
But dating is different these days. Men don’t buy dinner anymore. Movies are a thing of the past. Dating is drinks now, always drinks. After two she’s tipsy, having not eaten. Tipsy enough to be silly… and friendly. But guys like silly… and friendly. She is proof. They like her. They always like her. After her third drink she wants to dance. They accommodate her. Why not? Dancing is cheap enough.
There are more drinks at the club, and the pounding-rhythmic music she craves, and sensual, hypnotic gyrations. She finds herself all in, every time. After all he is tall, nicely dressed, and he smells fantastic. They all smell fantastic. Don’t they? Those most desirable guys on the dating apps? She could smell them all night, and she usually does.
There are mirrors at the club. She looks hot in the mirrors. So does he. She knows this because she sees other women looking. They’ll even pass him a napkin when her head is turned, forgetting the mirrors. This is ok though. She doesn’t mind it. She wants them to want him. Why not? She is super-hot. His eyes are only for her, and she knows it. She likes it. He knows where this night is heading. Where she is leading it. Besides. Would she even want him if no other women did? No, of course not. In fact, their interest fuels her. It excites her, so that she dances closer, backing herself against him, arching her back, watching herself in the mirror, moving to the music, fueling his excitement. And he is excited. She can feel his excitement. And she is hot. She can feel this, too. And knowing she is fuels her.
And the sex is always fantastic. Always… what she can remember of it. And there is always sex. And always at his place. Always. But somehow on the Uber ride home, she never feels hot. She never looks hot. Not ever. What she looks in the morning light, and what she feels, is washed out and ran through. But no worries. The feeling never lasts.
He won’t call her again.
That is dating today, for those like her, stuck in the robotic grind.
But next weekend she’ll swipe on another. As always, it will be another match. She is hot. So she puts the dress back on, the really tiny one. And the shoes, the really big ones. And she tells herself how hot she looks as she goes to meet this new guy for drinks.