by Curioser ©
How could I know where this path would lead? She seemed like most any other woman. Yes, there was a strange depth to her, a mysteriousness about her sensuality. And when I first made the move, I was confident, brash, and sure of my own prowess as I swept her off her feet. But I had no way of knowing...
Oh that first night, the stolen blissful moments of that sultry Summer's night. Swaggering with cocky assuredness, I'd shown up at Mrs. M's door, ostensibly to borrow something or other, chat her up awhile. I realize now I had no idea what I was doing. I had no idea what I was capable of doing.
It seemed so innocent. Our two bodies passing in that tight hallway by her pantry. A moment of high sexual tension and then my lips found hers. She whimpered, protested, I pressed my advantage. Sweet seduction, overcoming her resistance, enflaming her passions to where she couldn't help but give in to me, so reluctant yet so willing, drawing me in while pushing me way. I admit I was a bit brutal, lifting that white chemise dress, ripping her panties off, slamming her against the wall. I can still feel her cum dripping down my balls, a continuous stream of it.
Of course, I was the sailor and she the siren. Covered in sweat, panting, aglow in the aftermath of an explosive orgasm, I carried her to the bedroom and that damned black bed. Something about her brought out a predator's instinct in me. She played the victim so well, a woman swept away by the heat of the moment, giving herself completely to her cruel, demanding lover. And I...I played my part to the hilt.
At some point during that first night I went over, over to the other side, to the shadowy side of sexual compulsion. She lay face down, hips propped on a pillow, me driving my rod like a well-oiled piston into the everwet sleeve of her hot, gripping pussy, grunting like an animal as she gasped and cried out with each savage thrust. I began slapping her white fleshy buttocks as I pulled out, reveling in my power. She winced with each blow, but it was followed by a shudder of pleasure that shivered through her tiny frame. When I grabbed her hair to pull her head back and began pile-driving hard cock into soft cunt she seemed to rise to another level of passion altogether, cumming convulsively, her whole body spasming and rocking uncontrollably beneath me. My sense of power soared. I wanted to skewer her body on the spit of my cock, roast her in the flame of my passion, burn her on the altar of my desire. Cumming inside her churning, burning sluthole was the most intense experience of my life - up till then.
Afterwards she lay in a sort of aftershock with tremors rolling through her, my cock still hard and pulsating inside her spasmodically contracting vagina. There in the darkness, a sliver of moonlight casting a sheen on the black sheets, I felt myself slipping, slipping, reeling downward. I felt myself falling into her, pulled as though caught in a vortex.
Some time later she awoke and I was ready again. She gave me sexual powers I'd never tapped before. I tried this time making love to her, slow and gentle. But she dug fingernails into my ass. Then I was biting her nipples, pinning her arms to the bed and growling like a night beast. Watching her tits jiggle with the impact of my plunging pelvis crashing into hers I just let go and became the animal, unleashing a string of obscenities at her, at sex, at the night, at myself and the dark world I'd entered.
Fuck me you cum slut bitch, feel your greedy cunt suck the cum from the steel hard rod plundering your nasty slit. You were born to fuck, to be raped and violated by large blunt phalluses ripping you apart, steaming inside you like hot pokers, pouring gallons of sticky gobs of semen into that wicked little jism-sucking hole of yours.
She seemed to go catatonic in her ecstasy, her eyes rolled back in her head, mouth gasped open in a permanent O, her body trembling, and her cunt just gushing and pouring warm liquid from some endless fountain inside her. We were slipping around in a huge puddle of her wetness, and the gurgling, slurping, squishy noises that emanated from her crotch were the most erotic sounds I'd ever heard.
* * * * *
In the days and weeks that followed I descended into a world of compulsion and erotica so intense I could not have stopped myself if I'd wanted.
The day after our first tryst I was a mess, completely unable to concentrate, not two seconds would go by that my mind wouldn't conjure up some image of the night, of her body, of the feelings still coursing through me.
I wouldn't see her for another three days, and by the second day I was climbing the walls of my apartment. Finally she called. I felt like I could have battered down the door of her suite with my cock at that point. She said something about my coming over that night, but then she wasn't sure if we should continue, so would I come over so we could talk.
I did, of course, go over. She answered the door in a long black dress, a collar to her neck, long sleeved. We need to talk, she began. But not midway through her second sentence, sitting on the couch, I had a hand on her knee. She pulled it away, caught her breath, and fixed those big brown eyes on me. Her words said no, her body said take me.
You bitch, you fucking little whore bitch. Not exactly poetic, but I meant it. I meant it, as I slowly took off my tie. I tied one end to one ankle and the other to her other ankle, leaving about two feet of slack between them. Then I removed my belt. This I wrapped around her wrists, cutting into her flesh cruelly, then lashing it to the table behind the couch. I held the middle of the slack of the leg-tie in my hand and used it to pull her legs toward her head so she was almost doubled up. I forced the tie into her mouth then removed the sash from around her dress, using this to hold the tie/harness tight between her teeth.
There she was, arms trussed above her head, her ass and legs in black hose, exposed and lewdly vulnerable. I grabbed the material at the crotch and ripped it open, the scent of her wafting up to my nostrils.
Milady, I said softly, you are the beauty and I the beast and tonight we shall see just how deep two people can descend into the darkness of human sexuality. We are going to journey, you and I, to places neither one of us has ever dreamed of before.
I lifted her ass off the edge of the couch and brought her steamy cunt to my mouth as though it were a glass of wine. Touching her delicate lips with my own, I drank, slurping the heady brew she offered.
Yes. You, my sweet little cum-drenched whore goddess, are the only woman I've ever known who could take this journey with me. Before this night is over, you and I will have re-invented everything about ourselves. We will not be the same two people by morning that we are now.
One finger found her tiny puckered anus as my tongue venture up her slit to tickle the hardening nub of flesh just poking its head out of its hood. I wiggled just the tip of my finger into her rectum, and paused there.
I spoke to her cunt: there are such fine distinctions between pleasure and pain. Both are life experienced at it's most heightened, sensation at its most intense. Both cause the body to produce endorphins and evoke a mild state of shock. Both take you to the same place. You know that. And I...know you know that.
With that I lowered my lips to her distended clitoris and began sucking, simultaneously plunging my finger as deep as it would go into the recess of her bowels, twisting it inside her. She jerked spasmodically beneath me and groaned into her gag. Her vagina gushed warm liquid onto my face and her rectal muscles contracted around my invading finger. I drank deeply. It was an intoxicating liquor, an elixir that originates far far down in the unfathomable abyss of the unconscious mind. I was drunk on her cum. And I wanted more, much more.
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