Busted

He sort of sits back and gives a happy little sigh. "Those are so pretty, baby." He moves closer, runs his fingers gently over the exposed skin of my breasts, still not touching the nipples. "What do you want me to do to them?"

The specificity of this question startles me - and my brain isn't functioning at its best anyway - so the best I can manage is "Whatever you want to."

He laughs a little. "Rachel, honey, before I am done here today, I WILL get you to tell me what you want." He moves closer. "We can settle for telling me what you like. Here, I'll make it multiple choice." He pushes me back a little, rubs his face across my breasts. The stubble scratches. In a good way. "Do you like them licked?" He laps his tongue delicately across one, like a pampered cat. "Pinched?" He takes the other between his thumb and forefinger, rolling it tight between, then letting go. "Sucked?" He goes back to the first one, sucking it into his mouth, between his teeth, suddenly so hard that it almost hurts, and then he somehow knows exactly when to stop. He runs his hand down my torso, squeezing my hip once, then runs his hand back up. "Never mind, I think I'll pick for you." He bends to the other nipple and sucks that one too, grazing his teeth over it just hard enough to make me gasp, then does it again, and again. My head is tossed back onto the bed, my fingernails are scrabbling at the duvet cover, my thighs are clenching rhythmically. I can't help it, I let out a little cry - it hardly even sounds like me. He does something like a little growl at the sound, grabs my hips, jerks me downward, and rasps into my ear, "How wet are you right now?"

"Very," I breathe. "Do you want to check?"

"Not yet." He tips me fully back onto the bed, pulls my arms over my head. He gives me a questioning look to make sure I'm onboard, then pins my wrists lightly to the duvet with one hand, and strokes my body with his other hand, lightly, up and down, giving me goosebumps, and making my hips twist up involuntarily. "Do you want to tell me what you want?"

"Take off your shirt. Or let me do it."

"That's a good start. Come here." He pulls me up, and I finally fully shrug off my shirt, before impatiently tackling the buttons of his. I know, everyone likes to rip them open, but someone will then have to sew those things back on; so I do unbutton them, albeit hastily, throwing in a few frustrated swear words that make him laugh. I pull that off, pull off his T-shirt, and finally, I have access to the swaths and planes of his skin, the scratchy crinkly down on his chest that feels so good under my fingers, his shoulders and arms and collarbone, and the soft skin on the base of his neck that I can lightly drag my fingernails across to make his breath hitch. I run my nails over his nipples, and pinch them a little, maybe a little too hard, maybe a little as revenge, and he gasps and pulls my hands behind my back for a moment. He unsnaps my bra and I shrug it off, dropping it somewhere, straddling him on the bed. We are both still wearing pants, and there is something so hot about this - the way my pussy is absolutely throbbing, the way I can feel his cock pushing against his pants, I can almost feel the exact shape of it, I could almost take it inside me if it wasn't for all the layers of fabric. So hot, the way we can feel so much of each other's skin, our mouths landing everywhere, anywhere, our fingers convulsively grasping anything they brush against, but unable to do the thing we both want to do, the thing our bodies are dying to do.

I've got him on his back, and I am rocking on top of his cock, grinding myself into him. I seem to have found a particularly friendly seam in the crotch of my jeans, and my panties may well have disintegrated, because my clit is bumping up against it in the most serendipitous fashion. I am pretty sure I won't come this way, but I can get pretty close, and I am enjoying this very much, but then he groans, and grips my hips to still them.

"What's the matter, did I hurt you?" For a moment, I wonder if I pushed against him too hard, or if I am too heavy, or if I accidentally kicked him in the -

"No, the opposite. If you keep doing that, baby, I'm going to come."

I bump him again, relieved. "Maybe I want you to come. Maybe that's what I WAAANT."

"I appreciate that, but in my pants? Come on. I've got a reputation to maintain."

I giggle with delight. I love to see him this hot and bothered. I love that his cheeks are flushed - probably as flushed as mine - and his pupils are enlarged, and his breath is coming fast and uneven. I feel so fucking powerful right now, that I consider just going for it, just pinning his own hands to the bed and dry-humping him to a vivid re-enactment of high school - but that would be unfair, and I know there are more fun ways to go about this.

"OK. So let's get them off then." I scoot off him, unbuckling his belt - or attempting to, except that I am not used to belts from this angle, so he has to help me, amused at my impatience. We unbuckle, and unzip, and slide down his pants and boxers, and I am presented with the most delightful cock. Pink and juicy-looking, thick but not frightening, just long enough to easily slide my hand up and down with a flick of my wrist, with the prettiest full, slightly flared head that just begs to be tasted, popped into my mouth like an oversized lollipop. A bit of pre-cum glistening on the tip, a perfect little teardrop, just waiting for me, like dew on a peony in bud.

This is, most emphatically, not a cock that could blend into Anytown, USA. This is a cock that would be regularly mistaken for a celebrity and have strangers asking it to pose for their selfies. This is a cock that would have to wear a baseball cap and sunglasses just to buy a pack of gum. Page 6 would monitor the goings and comings of this cock.

What I say out loud is, "That is... really nice. Your, uh, member."

"Thank you," he says, sounding pleased. "What do you want to do with it?"

I slide down to kneel on the carpet between his feet, my hands on his knees, peeping up at him from beneath my eyelashes. "I'd like to put it in my mouth. May I?"

He chuckles, the sound catching in his throat as I brush my hand over the sensitive tip. I love that sound. I love making his breath catch. I smile up at him prettily, and he makes an exaggerated magnanimous gesture. "By all means!" He laughs again, but that cuts off almost immediately, as soon as I've got him in my mouth.

I am an empowered modern woman and an avowed feminist. However, ever since the first time I've done it, I just really enjoy having a cock in my mouth. I never managed to properly deep throat, but I've learned to live with that. I love having it fill up my mouth, I love gently sucking it and using my hand to provide counter-friction. I like running my lips over the shaft, popping them slowly and deliberately over the ridge of the head. I love ever so lightly grazing the head with my teeth, so that the balls immediately tense up with something between arousal and terror. I love running my tongue all around it, swirling like it's an ice cream cone. I love the slide of skin over it, I love how warm it is, the silky texture, the pronounced bump of the vein. I love how, the minute it's in my mouth, I am in total control. I can speed the rhythm up until he's very nearly there, gasping, panting, a little tug on the balls to slow things down, and then a sudden downgrade into the kind of slow, almost painful rhythm that wrings out sounds that resemble sobs. And then, gradually, speeding up again, a little, a little more, a little less, until his legs are shaking, and his thighs are gripping my shoulders, and he is barely coherent, until all he can say is "please." And then, finding that rhythm, the perfect one - not too fast, not too slow, the kind that makes the orgasm come slowly, slowly, and last for as long as possible.

I fucking love sucking cock.

(And, yes, I am a feminist.)

(Sucking cock is how I am going to topple the patriarchy.)

The best thing about sucking Charlie's cock - besides Charlie's cock - is the sounds he makes. It's the oddest thing - they both do and do not resemble the Anonyfun35 audios. One thing they have in common is how much they turn me on. I love hearing him talk and mutter and moan and growl. Making him slowly lose control. At one point, he twists his hand deep into my hair and pulls hard, but then immediately lets go and apologizes. I'd tell him I didn't mind, but my mouth is full.

I can hear his panting speeding up - I know he's close, really close. I find my favorite rhythm - not too slow, not too fast, the steady pulse that will make the orgasm last as long as I can make it - when he gasps, "Stop, stop, please stop."

I pop my mouth off his cock. It bobs in front of my face, bigger than before, the head almost purple, the whole thing glistening wetly. I don't know why he made me stop. "What's wrong - did I hurt - "

"No, no, you didn't - you were amazing, that was incredible, I just - " He shudders, catching his breath, and then gives me a sheepish grin. "I want the first time I come with you to be inside you. If that's what you want, of course."

As soon as he says "inside you," I feel my pussy opening up, like a stomach growling. Fuck, I want him. Ten seconds ago, I felt in complete control, and now my voice barely sounds like my own when I tell him, "That's what I want."

He gives me a crooked little grin. "Stand up for me, wouldja baby?"

I rise up from the floor, a little light-headed, and stand between his knees. He is smiling up at me, a mischievous look in his eyes as he unzips my jeans, and slowly wiggles them down over my hips. He fully laughs with delight when he sees my underwear - thin pink silk, but more importantly, absolutely soaking. "Oh, my God," he enthuses, sliding his hand over the fabric. "You weren't kidding. I love how wet you are."

It's so close to the trope in all his audios that I squawk, "So that was for real??"

He looks up from my cunt to my face, his eyes oddly serious. "It was all for real, baby. Just depends on the situation."

I am still processing this - all of it was for real? ALL OF IT??? - when he slides the crotch to one side, and sighs with what sounds like absolute delight. "Oh, now this. This is a very nice pussy. A very nice, very wet... very, very wet - Jesus Christ - very wet pussy." He runs his finger slowly down the open cleft, bumping over my clit, trailing between my lips. I feel myself sway a little. He grips my hips to keep me steady, his fingertips digging into the fleshy part of my backside. He looks up at me again, coyly, his fingers hooking under the elastic to peel it down my thighs. "May I... taste this pussy?"

I nod enthusiastically, but it is such a classic line, so goddamn meta, that I almost giggle, except that the next moment, his lips are on me, locked around my clit, and I'm making a completely different sound. I try to brace my hands on his shoulders as my legs shake - he is doing something crazy down there, I think he is sucking my clit, but at the same time it feels like he is lapping the lips at the entrance to my cunt, and also, somehow, he's got at least one finger, maybe more, inside me, pistoning irresistibly but unpredictably - the bastard has clearly stolen this trick from me, but at least he was paying attention - and I am so turned on already, I am close almost immediately, and then he grabs my ass with his hands and just pulls me abruptly tight up against his face, his tongue on my clit, his face grinding hard into my pubic bone, it almost hurts, almost, but it doesn't, it doesn't, and I am trying not to fall but my legs aren't working anymore and I'm falling and someone is screaming screaming screaming, and it's me.

Somehow, he catches me and guides my tumble, angling us so that we are lying side by side horizontally across the bed, which is rumpled but still made. After my body stops trembling, I realize that I'm wearing nothing from my neck to my knees, but my jeans and underwear are still tangled around my legs. I must look ridiculous, and somehow that thought must show itself on my face, because he abruptly hugs me close to him and says "Baby, you're so beautiful. You're awesome. That was awesome. Did you like that?"

All I can do is whisper against his neck, "Where did you learn to do that?"

The rumble of his low chuckle vibrates through me. "Took a correspondence course. All sorts of things you can learn that way."

He is holding me close, he is so warm, I feel him all around me, but I can't stop trembling. I don't know what is with me. I lift my face to his, and I kiss him - I kiss him like coming off a high dive platform for the first time, the terror and the possibilities behind the terror, like swimming in deep water at night, like submitting to a blindfold, like, like, like meeting a fucking VOICE OFF THE INTERNET and having every nerve ending wake up for the first time in years, remembering that maybe THIS is why God gave us bodies.

He kisses me back immediately, deeply, moving my hands from his face to wrap my arms around his back, rolling over onto me - God, I love the weight of him, I love the dense way he is built, like he is made of realer stuff than other people, the way his body anchors me in my own and stops the constant dust storm of my thoughts - running his hands through my hair, down my sides, pressing them hard against the edges of me, as though he is memorizing the outline of my body, as though there will be a test later. Our hips are bumping into one another, and we have to take a moment to impatiently wiggle our pants off our feet, laughing a little at the awkwardness of the movement, the irritation of still having something between us. I wrap my legs tight around his hips, my arms around his back, his shoulders, I am arching against him as our mouths stay tightly joined - that perfect tongue, those assertive lips - I want him on me, in me, everywhere, every part of my skin that isn't touching his feels left out.

He pushes his hands into my hair, pulling it tight at the sides; he sees something in my face, because he snickers wickedly, that fantastic smutty sound falling from his mouth into mine, and pulls tighter, making me gasp, making me buck my hips toward him. I can feel the weight of his cock against my thigh, I angle toward it like I'm fishing for trout, but he lightly directs himself from me, separates his mouth from mine, and looks right into my eyes from inches away.

"Rachel," he whispers. "I told you, you have to tell me what you want."

I know exactly what I want. "I want to fuck you." It's been years since I've been sure about what I wanted. "I want your cock inside me." Longer since I've been able to speak it, without wondering whether it was too much, or the wrong thing, or the wrong time to say it. "I want to feel you sliding into me. I want that delicious cock to fill me up, to stretch me open. I want to suck you into my cunt, I want to squeeze it, I want to milk your cock dry, I want to make you scream, I want to make you come, I want to make your cock belong to me." I don't even know what's come over me - I am saying these words as though they are being fed into my head by something outside myself, some ancient incantation, a witch attempting to cast a spell with my cunt, my voice strangely deep, completely devoid of the higher pitch women are trained to use from girlhood to hide their power and their desire. "I want to fuck you. I want you to fuck me. Put that cock inside me. You know you want to." I tilt myself against him, bump my pussy against his hard shaft. It makes me shudder, my clit is still so sensitive from my orgasm. "My cunt is so wet for you. I'm so fucking ready for you."

His hands are still in my hair, holding my head immobile, I can see his pupils dilate. "Jesus Christ," he breathes, and closes his eyes. When he opens them, the devils are frolicking with abandon. "If you want it, take it."

I reach between us blindly, find his cock - the warmth, the heft of it. I pump it once, twice, in my hand just for the enjoyment of the feel, before I direct it toward my entrance. Wet as I am, my inner lips are so swollen that he has to apply some pressure to get it inside. His head sort of pops into the tight opening, like a pickle into an overfull jar, and his shaft follows, filling me up at last, and it's so good, the fit is so fucking perfect, that I can't help it, I just moan from the sheer relief of it, finally, finally, this is what I wanted all night, maybe all week, maybe all my life. He is fucking me with long, measured strokes - I want it harder, faster, and I writhe toward him, locking my thighs around his hips, but he holds onto me tightly enough to keep me somewhat still, controlling the rhythm.

I can't normally come through vaginal penetration alone, but I might break that rule this time. This feels incredible - his size is perfect, just thick enough to stretch me a little, but not enough to hurt. I feel every movement on the walls of my cunt, I feel the strokes against the sensitive lips around the opening. I spread my legs as wide as I can, and he buries himself deeper inside me, his balls bumping into my ass on every downstroke. He slows down a little, driving himself into me hard, rocking me, making me cry out with every movement he makes, his hands so tight on my thighs that they will probably leave bruises, but I love it, I love that he handles me like I already belong to him.

His breath changes, he cries out - I think he is close - and then he pulls out abruptly. He is kneeling above me, that gorgeous cock bobbing outward from his body, absolutely glistening with my juices. Almost involuntarily, my hand moves toward my clit, but he grabs it, stopping me, still breathing hard.

"Turn over," he breathes, "I want to fuck you from behind. Can I?"

"Yes. Yes," I am already turning over, on my hands and knees, presenting my ass to him. I have just enough time to grab a pillow for support before he grips my hips and jams himself into me so hard, I let out a little shriek.

He starts fucking me fast, hard, his hands moving from my hips to my breasts, squeezing them tight, one hand moving to gather my hair into a ponytail and briefly yank it hard enough to make me arch back up, and he holds me like that, twisted up against him, and rasps into my ear "I want to spank your ass. Can I?"

I nod - insofar as I can - and add "Yes, but not too hard." He lets me go, puts his hands back on my hips, slows down the fucking, and slaps my butt. It's not hard at all, it's barely a tap, and I am just wondering what it might feel like if he really did it, when he says "How was that?"

I must have made some kind of sound or not enough of one, because he laughs a little, and says "Ok, let's try it a little harder," and slaps the other cheek. It's louder, it definitely stings, but it's - I don't know, it's not what I expected? I've never particularly been into spanking - every time I've tried, someone has insisted on disingenuously informing me that I've been bad - but now, I am curious, I just want to know - what would it feel like to let him do exactly what he wants?

He seems to sense this, because he stops, bends over me, his body covering mine so that his mouth is close to my ear again. "That wasn't enough either, was it?" I shake my head, and he laughs a little. "I think you can handle a lot more than you think. I'm going to spank you for real now, ok? If you don't like it, just say stop. I promise, I'll stop right away. Is that ok with you?" I nod, and I hear him sigh with something like exasperation. "Rachel, if you want me to do it, you have to say it."

"Spank me," I gasp between breaths. "Hard." The last word is barely out of my mouth when he moves abruptly back, leaving me cold where his skin leaves mine, and his hand connects with my butt so solidly that my ears ring with the sound just as my flesh does with the impact. It hurts, really hurts, but in that instant, it's as though it's gone straight through my body and into my pussy, still stuffed with his cock. I squeeze him involuntarily as I shudder and cry out. He slaps the other side of my ass before I've had time to recover, and my own ragged grunt rips through my ears. It fucking HURTS, but - I don't understand this - I don't want him to stop. I hear him laugh, and then his breath hitches, he groans, and pushes his cock deeper into me. He slaps me again, again, I can't see anything anymore, I've somehow got a corner of the pillow between my teeth, and there are tears in my eyes, my cunt is contracting around him like a vise, getting almost uncomfortably tight, and he growls, abandons the spanking, grabs both my hips and starts fucking me like I'm a whore he paid for.