Better To Be BadbySexySoBeChick©
Being a very bad girl, I loved giving every man I encountered a hard-on. Young, old, short, tall, skinny, fat –- it didn't matter. As long as he had a cock, I loved to tease it.
More than anything, it thrilled me to dress as slutty as possible and bask in the ogling and drooling of every man I passed. However, just because I flaunted it that didn't mean I gave it away to every Tom, Dick, of Harry. Actually, I was very particular.
So it wasn't unusual that I wore one of my outrageous outfits flying home for Christmas break after my first semester of college. I called this particular outfit the Slutty Schoolgirl.
It consisted of a pleated red-plaid skirt so short it barely covered my rounded ass and a tight, white, knit, cropped top that displayed my flat stomach, narrow waist, pierced navel, and generous cleavage to perfection. The top did nothing to conceal the red-lace push-up bra accentuating my C-cup sized tits.
I also wore a matching red thong, lacey, red thigh-high stockings, and black Mary Janes with a chunky three-inch heel that enhanced my long, shapely legs. I even pulled my long dark-brown hair into a sassy pair of pigtails and painted my lips cherry red.
When I strutted through the airport crowded with holiday travelers, I wasn't disappointed by the sea of gaping mouths and bulging . . . eyes I left in my wake. As I sashayed down the terminal to my gate, "Santa Claus Is Coming To Town" streamed out of the airport's PA system, warning children to be good or Santa Claus would cross them off his list.
Guess I'll be getting a big old lump of coal this year, I thought with a wicked grin.
I couldn't imagine any Christmas gift worth being a good girl. Being bad was too much fun. What could be better than having my pick of any man I wanted and making him grovel for my attention. No, being bad was better. Although . . . sometimes it was tiresome how predictable men were.
Once I boarded my plane and took my aisle seat on the right side of the plane, there wasn't much to entertain me. Thirty minutes into the flight, I was bored to death. A grandmotherly type, who tsk-ed every time she looked at me, and a businesswoman with her head buried in her laptop occupied the two seats to my right. No fun there.
Looking around, I spotted a man in his mid to late thirties in the seat across the aisle reading a newspaper. In blue jeans and a green shirt that matched his eyes, he was the epitome of tall, dark, and handsome. Now, there was a man I'd fuck in a New York minute.
Seizing an opportunity to escape my boredom, I set to work attracting the attention of the handsome stranger. With deliberately seductive movements, I bent forward and retrieved a magazine from the seat in front of me. While pretending to read the latest fashion magazine, I crossed my long legs and angled my body in the most alluring pose. I peeked across the aisle, but the man was still reading his paper.
With an overly dramatic sigh I was sure would catch his attention, I put the magazine back and began straightening my clothing in a show I knew drove men insane. One leg at a time, I straightened my stockings, running my hands up my legs from ankle to thigh, making sure my skirt hiked up as I adjusted the stretchy-lace stocking cuff. Pretending to adjust my bra, I cupped my large tits through my shirt and then fiddled with the shoulder straps. Again, I surreptitiously looked at the object of my teasing and found the damn newspaper still held his interest.
Determined to get the man's attention and bring him to his knees with lust, I got up from my seat, stood in the aisle facing away from him, reached up, and opened the overhead compartment where I'd stowed my carry-on bag and purse. Making as big a production as possible, I tried to remove my purse from the overstuffed compartment, fully aware of my skirt and top inching dangerously high all the while I reached, tugged, twisted, and turned.
Blowing out a loud frustrated breath, I glanced over my shoulder and felt a thrill of satisfaction when I saw every man in the surrounding area staring at me –- including the man my show had been meant for. But unlike the rest of the men, who clearly had lust written all over their faces, this one had no expression at all. He simply stared at me with his piercing green eyes.
Undeterred in the least, I flashed him my most come-hither smile and asked, "My purse seems to be stuck. Could you get it for me?"
Without a word, he put his paper aside, stood, and joined me in the aisle. Even though my heels made me a statuesque 5'10'', he was so tall and powerfully broad, I felt small in comparison. When he got closer, the smell of pine and leather filled my lungs and I was so overcome by his shear virile, masculine presence, a burst of arousal erupted in my lower abdomen and warmed my blood.
"It's that one," I purred breathlessly, indicating to my purse.
He reached up and easily dislodged the purse. Taking advantage of a little bit of turbulence that rocked the plane, I stumbled into him, fondling his groin in the process.
My, my, he was a big boy all over.
"Sorry, I lost my balance," I said with a husky giggle.
The corner of his lips curved up slightly and amusement twinkled in his eyes. "Not a problem."
He handed me the purse and closed the overhead compartment.
"Thank you so much," I simpered.
"Don't mention it," he said and returned to his seat and his paper, not giving me a second glance.
Well, hell, this lack of interest called for desperate measures.
Sitting back down in my seat, I dug through my purse and retrieved one of the lollipops I always carried with me for such emergencies. I tore off the wrapper, threw it in my purse, and stuffed it under the seat.
Leaning back in my seat, I began suggestively enjoying the sweat treat, licking it with broad strokes of my tongue, sucking it in and out of my mouth, and tracing it over my parted lips. Occasionally, I'd look over at the man, but I could never catch him watching.
Increasingly frustrated, I noticed his indifference was actually turning me on even more. Still sucking on my lollipop, I squirmed in my seat, feeling my juices pool between my thighs and soaking my lacey thong.
In a sudden stroke of inspiration, I decided a trip to the restroom was in order. As I headed up the aisle to the restrooms at the front of the plane, I pretended to accidentally drop my lollipop and bent over to pick it up, knowing full well I was exposing my bare ass and sopping cunt to everyone behind me.
As I slowly straightened, I heard several gasps and appreciative male groans. I hoped at least one of them was from the man whose attention I'd been trying so hard to attract.
When I looked over my shoulder, I saw he was looking at me, but once again I couldn't read anything from the blank expression on his face. Was he as turned on as I? Did he like what he saw? Could he smell my juicy cunt?
"Whoops," I said with a coy giggle, "Guess I'll have to throw it out now."
He didn't say anything. He just kept staring at me. Unsure of myself for the first time in my life, I released another dramatic sigh and sashayed down the aisle to the restroom.
Once inside the small bathroom, I tossed the lollipop in the trash and took a long look at myself in the mirror. What the hell was that guy's problem? I was fucking hot. Then something occurred to me. Maybe he was gay? Of course, why hadn't I thought of that sooner. What a pity.
Shrugging off the whole thing, I go to leave the bathroom, but when I open the door, a wall of muscle and forceful male shoves me back inside, causing me to stumble backward and land on my butt on the toilet.
"Hey, what the hell—" I started to protest when I recognized the intruder as the man whose attention I'd been trying to get. A wicked smile slowly spread across my face. "Oh, it's you."
"That's right, bitch," he growled, yanking me up by my arm. He spun me around and twisted my arm behind my back, forcing me over the small sink.
"Owe, that hurts," I complained, even though I was more surprised than hurt.
"Shut up, slut," he said, leaning over to use more of his weight to stop my struggling. "You've been teasing the hell out of me the entire flight and now it's time to pay up."
His deep, commanding voice, autocratic words, and domineering attitude should have scared me, but my pulse pounded with excitement and anticipation. He demanded obedience, but I was used to being in control and it was a hard habit to break.
"Fuck you," I hissed, glaring at his reflection in the mirror above the sink.
His raspy chuckle was as ominous as the fire burning in his green eyes. "You might be able to lead other men around by their dicks, but you teased the wrong man, cunt. I take what I want and I want what you've been offering. Now, be a good little slut and admit you've been begging for my cock,"
"We'll see about that." My heart racing, I wondered what he was doing as he adjusted his position slightly. Then he flipped up the back of my skirt, exposing my ass for his inspection, and began fondling and squeezing my ass cheeks. "Do you know what happens to nasty little sluts who tease and then don't put out? They get their asses spanked."
"You wouldn't dare," I challenged quietly.
Even though I saw it coming, the stinging slap surprised me and I cried out. No one had ever spanked me before and it had never been something I thought I'd allow. But now, I had no choice in the matter, no control. With each punishing smack, he proved he was in charge and I could do as he commanded . . . or suffer the consequences.
I sobbed, struggled, and begged him to stop, but he held me down and continued to wail away at first one cheek and then the other. To my surprise, the throbbing in my backside was accompanied by an answering throb in my enflamed cunt. Every time his large, strong hand laid a sharp slap on my ass, the nerve endings there crackled and shot bolts of pleasure to cunt.
"Please, I'll do anything you say," I heard myself promise, tears streaming down my cheeks all the while my ass rose to meet each slap.
Finally stopping his assault on my ass, he asked, "Are you ready to be my good little slut?"
"Sir!" he growled, punctuating his command with another blow to my ass. "Whenever you address me, you'll call me Sir. Is that understood?"
"Yes, Sir!" I sniffled.
"Tell me what you've been doing since you boarded the plane?"
I knew what he wanted to hear and my ass and cunt were so on fire I didn't hesitate. "I've been begging for your cock, Sir."
"What do you want me to do with my cock, slut?"
"I want you to fuck my hot cunt with your big cock, Sir."
"Oh, I'm going to fuck your nasty cunt, all right. But first you're going to show me how much you want my cock."
With that, he straightened, pulled me off the sink, and pushed me back onto the toilet, making me wince when my sore ass touched the hard seat.
"Now, take off that shirt and bra," he ordered. "I want to see those big titties."
As I lifted off my shirt and tossed it aside, he slowly unbuttoned his shirt and tugged it from his jeans. In the small space, he was even more imposing and the look on his face was nothing short of predatory, his nostrils flaring as if he were picking up my scent. The scent of his prey.
He shrugged out of his shirt and hung it on the hook behind the door, revealing his fit body and sculpted muscles. I've never wanted a man more and I was willing to do anything to get him.
Under his intense gaze, my fat nipples tightened beneath the lacy bra. I reached back to unfasten my bra, let the straps slide down my shoulders, and tossed it in the same direction as my top.
"Cup those titties and show me how big and firm they are."
I lifted the fresh made even heavier by my arousal for his approval. Touching my aching titties felt so good I moaned as I manipulated them in my hands, pushing them together.
"Yeah, you like that, don't you, you dirty little whore?"
"Squeeze those fat, pink nipples and keep squeezing them until I tell you to stop."
"Yes, Sir," I said, more than happy to comply. I took my distended nipples between my thumbs and index fingers and lightly squeezed them, but they were so sensitive even that made me gasp.
"Harder, slut. Squeeze them harder."
I did, whimpering when another jolt of pleasure shot right down to my throbbing cunt. The combination of pleasure and pain was driving me crazy. My cunt was flooded with pussy juice and I needed to be fucked so bad.
I noticed that his hand had drifted to the front of his jeans and he was absently rubbing the very obvious erection straining the denim. Licking my lips with anticipation, I wanted to see, feel, and taste his cock more than I'd ever wanted anything in my life.
"Yeah, that's want you want, isn't it, slut?" he demanded, never missing a thing.
"Beg for it, whore."
"Please, Sir, please let me see your big cock," I pleaded, continuing to twist and pull my nipples.
I'd never had to beg a man before. They'd always begged me. Even if I did everything he wanted, I had no guarantee he'd give me the pleasure I craved. He'd made it clear I had no influence over him. I'd tried to manipulate and charm him and failed miserably. He had all the power. He was in control. This situation was a whole new experience. In my wildest fantasies, I couldn't have imagined how liberating and thrilling it would be to be dominated by a man.
"Are you going to lick it and suck it like the hungry little come-slut you are?"
"Yes, Sir," I said, my heart racing with desire and excitement. "Please, let me suck your cock, Sir."
Grunting his approval, he unfastened his fly and with one shift shove, he pushed his jeans and underwear over his hips and they fell down around his ankles. My mouth watered at the sight of the most magnificent cock, I'd ever seen.
It was long and so thick I didn't think I'd be able to encircle it with my hand. Heavily veined and fully engorge, it curved upward from a dense nest of dark pubic hair and its mushroom-shaped head was scarlet and already leaking semen. Beneath, hung a massive pair of hairy, come-filled balls.
"Lick it like you licked that lollipop, bitch," he rasped. "Show me how much you love my big cock."
Not needing to be told twice, I leaned forward and buried my nose in the thatch of hair at the base of his huge cock. Breathing in his manly, virile sent, I rubbed my cheek up and down his cock, luxuriating in the hot, hard, silky smooth organ. He took my head in his large hands as I turned my face and licked up the underside of his cock from base to tip.
"That's it, slut, give it a good tongue bath."
I continued licking up and down his twitching shaft while fondling his heavy balls with my hands. Paying special attention to the head, I circled it with my tongue and lapped up the drops of salty semen seeping out.
"You like the taste of my come, slut?"
"Mmmm, you taste so good, Sir," I said before taking the head into my mouth and sucking lightly.
"Yeah, you nasty little slut, sock my cock," he groaned and I delighted in his obvious appreciation.
Sucking him deeper into my mouth, I wrapped one of my hands round the base of his cock and began stroking up and down his length while my other hand continued messaging his balls. My lips stretched wide around his thick cock, I took more and more of him into my mouth until the bulbous head nudged the back of my throat.
I'd deep-throated guys before, but none with a cock as big as this man's cock. I wanted to please him more than any other man I'd been with, because he was special. He had a power over me I didn't quite understand, but it was there nonetheless.
So I worked my mouth back up and down, over and over again, caressing his cock with my lips and tongue, taking him deeper and deeper.
"Fuck, you're a hot little cock-sucker," he rumbled as I began to taking him into my tight throat. "That's it, whore, take it all."
Egged on by his lewd words and my own arousal, I overcame my gage reflect and took him further and further down my throat. Soon, I was bobbing my head up and down his cock, his pubic hair tickling my nose every time I swallowed his entire length.
"Goddamn, you're a fucking nasty slut," he growled, gripping my pigtails as he began aggressively fucking my face. "You're starving for my come, aren't you?"
"Mmmm-hmmm," I murmured around his cock, exhilarated I'd taken all of him down my throat and brought him so close to orgasm. Tasting his semen dribbling down my throat and feeling his balls tighten, I could tell he was going to come any second.
"Oh, fuck, yeah. You want me to come down your throat, don't you, you hungry little slut?"
"Not this time, whore," he grunted, yanking my mouth off his cock. Holding my face away from his cock, he fisted his shaft and began furiously jacking off. "I'm going to shoot my come all over your slutty face and those big titties. I'm going to mark you with my seed so every man on this plane will smell me on you and know you're mine."
Within seconds the first rope of thick, creamy, white come splashed across my cheek, lips, and chin. His hand was a blur as he continued to pump a flood of warm, sticky semen all over my face, neck, and tits.
I'd never imagined one man could produce so much semen. I was so drenched with it, it dripped off of my chin and nipples and streamed down my flat stomach. And I loved having his come all over me. I wanted to bathe in it, drink it, feel it in my cunt.
Breathing heavily, but showing no signs of exhaustion, he pulled me up from the toilet and made my look at myself in the mirror.
"Look at you," he hissed in my ear. "Only the nastiest, dirtiest little slut would suck a stranger off in a bathroom and let him cover her with his come."
Instead of feeling ashamed or disgusted with what I saw, I was thrilled by it. My lipstick was hopelessly smeared, my hair was disheveled, and I was soaked with his come. And I'd never been more turned on in my life.
"Put you hands on the sink and lean over," he commanded. Too horny to argue, I did as I was told. His hands spread my legs wide apart and then trailed up the inside of my thighs. "Damn, you have pussy juice dripping down your thighs. You're a horny little cunt, aren't you?"
"Yes, Sir," I moaned as his long fingers probed my slit through my wet thong. "Please, Sir, I need to be fucked so bad."
With a quick yank, he tore off my lacy thong and tossed it onto the floor. "Tell me what you want, slut?"
"I want your cock, Sir," I said as he pressed himself up against my back. I moaned when I felt his cock, once again fully erect, nudging my bruised ass. "Please, Sir, I need your cock."
Watching each other in the mirror, he reached around me and cupped my tits, spreading his own come around while he squeezed and fondled my tits. "Where do you need my cock?"
"In my cunt, Sir," I said, grinding my ass against his engorged member. "I need your big cock in my hot, wet cunt."
"Tell me who you are?" he whispered in my ear as he began pulling and twisting my nipples.
"I'm your cunt, Sir!" I cried desperately. "I'm your nasty slut, your dirty little whore, your hungry bitch in heat!"
"Damn right you are," he growled, thrusting his cock to the hilt into my aching cunt, filling and stretching me more than I ever have been before.
I cried out with the intense pleasure of it and would have collapsed onto the sink if he hadn't been holding me up by my tits.
"Fuck, you're a tight cunt," he groaned as he slowly withdraw his cock until only the head remained inside me and then slammed his thick man meat all the way back in.
Out and in, out and in, out and in, he fucked me so hard and thoroughly, I writhed against him wildly, slamming my ass back, meeting every one of his powerful thrusts. His cock pulsated inside me and its ridges seductively stroked the walls of my cunt, sparking intense sensations of pleasure zinging throughout my body.