Hi, my name is Abby and I've got a little bit of a dilemma. See, I'm a nice girl, twenty-something with a good job, a new car and my own apartment. People tend to view me as sweet, perhaps innocent, occasionally nerdy and definitely a bit quirky (as evidenced by the skull surrounded by fluffy unicorns on my desk). People tend to watch their language around me and tone down their behavior, presumably for fear of offending me.
Oh, and I blush a lot. I'm a redhead with very fair skin, so it's totally noticeable when I do and I do it quite a bit. And that really only reinforces the perception that I'm a sweet, naïve young lady.
And I'm fine with that. I want to have a wholesome and respectable image at work, with my friends and in public in general. The problem, my dilemma, is more of who I'd rather be when the bedroom door closes behind me.
I've had a few boyfriends, but they've always been so gentle and tender and, well, loving, with me in the bedroom. Which I can't say is a bad thing... I do like to be a princess and be spoiled. If a man wants to lavish me with attention and caresses and kisses, there's not really anything wrong with that.
It's that I know I need something else too. Something that nice girls can't ask for. Something that nice guys would never think of doing to a nice girl like me.
Now don't misunderstand. I don't have difficulties in the bedroom or anything like that. I love sex and have orgasms relatively easily. I love to go down on a man and have him do the same for me. It's all good.
The real problem is that sometimes I don't want it to be nice or tender or affectionate.
Sometimes I just want to be fucked.
I want a man to grab me, shove his cock into me and hammer away relentlessly, totally disregarding my pleasure, simply using me for his. That in itself isn't an easy one to bring up with a boyfriend. I don't want to be judged by him or thought of as a slut, at least not outside of the bedroom. Nice girls aren't supposed to want things like this, so it would seem like there's something wrong with me, right?
But that's not even the whole story. There's more to this than just wanting to wake up the next morning feeling sore down there; feeling ravaged. I have lots of fantasies that spring from the same premise: a man using me for his pleasure. Completely.
I fantasize about being tied up, helpless, at his mercy. Sometimes it's spread eagle on the bed, other times it's on my knees with my wrists bound behind me. And more elaborate things too. The common theme is that I'm powerless. He can do whatever he wants to me and there's nothing I can do to stop him. I'm his pleasure toy.
I also want to feel the stinging pain of his hand across my ass or the sharp stab from his fingers pinching my nipples. Or the burn in my scalp from him tugging roughly on my hair. Or the crack of a belt across the backs of my thighs.
Yes, I know there are labels for this, but I don't really want to be labeled "submissive." (and BDSM is totally beyond the pale). Even if "submissive" happens to be an accurate label, it's too at odds with who I am outside of the bedroom. You know, like I don't hesitate to give my boyfriend head, but I don't want to be labeled a cocksucker either, see?
So the real issue here is that I'm a respectable girl. And I would never date a man who wasn't respectful of me, who didn't treat me like a lady, who didn't shower me with love and affection. But I want all this other stuff too and I don't know how to get it from the nice guys that I invariably date. They don't want to take charge or be demanding and forceful. I need a fucking caveman once in a while and the guys I date are just too considerate.
I want to come home to a man that occasionally gives me that look, the one that tells me we're "on." And on the heels of that look, he pulls me to him, takes a rough kiss from me, turns me around and ties my hands behind my back before spinning me back around and forcing me to my knees in front of him. He's a man who will pull out his cock and stuff it into my mouth, whether I want it or not. I want to walk in the door thinking I'll be telling him all about what happened to me at work and the next thing I know, I can't talk at all because he's shoving his thick cock all the way to the back of my throat until I'm nearly gagging. Yes, I dream of being on my knees in front of that man.
Oh, how fucking wet my pussy gets just thinking about the way he would grab me by the head or hair and pump his cock in and out between my lips, fucking my face. I could have drool pouring out the corners of my mouth, running down my chin that I can't wipe away because my hands are bound. The same with the tears streaming from my eyes. And he totally wouldn't care... he'd just keep grunting and thrusting his cock into my mouth because that's what he wants to do. My pussy is wet and tingly just thinking about it.
Maybe he'd say things to me that would make it dirtier, naughtier, sexier too. Ask me if I want his cum for my dinner (which I totally would, btw) or ask if my coworkers would suspect how wet I get when he fucks my throat. Something evil and mind-fuckingly hot like that. Because I'm a good girl and things like that shouldn't turn me on. So when he says them and they do turn me on, I feel like such a dirty little slut.
Maybe he fucks my face and throat until he cums in my mouth. Oh, I'd sooo love that. I admit that I really get into giving head and I get really turned on making a man cum. I like it even better when I'm a totally passive vessel, simply holding my mouth open for him to use as his sperm receptacle. And yes, I always swallow. It's so intoxicating to taste a man's most masculine essence and feel it slide down my throat. There's something inexplicably erotic about having his warm sperm in my belly. As much as I love to feel a man cum in my pussy, there are times when I'd prefer he cum in my mouth, let me experience the heat, the texture and the flavor of it, savor it and consume it. Feed on it. I guess I have to admit there's a certain submissiveness to swallowing a man's cum that plays into my (dare I say it) submissive desires.
Or maybe he doesn't cum in my mouth. At least not yet. Maybe he grabs me by the hair and yanks me back to my feet, pulls down my jeans and then bends me over the dining room table. My pussy is sooo wet from him using my mouth that he could slip right in, but he doesn't. There's a stinging slap across one cheek of my ass, then the other and suddenly my pussy is flooded with fresh wetness, even as my ass burns from his spanks. I yelp and whimper, as my body tingles with a delicious pain-and-pleasure cocktail. Maybe he rubs his hand on the welts, helping to assuage the sting... before slapping my ass yet again, harder this time. Oh, that would probably get me wet enough that my juices would start running down the insides of my thighs, if they weren't already.
When he finally enters me, I moan out in ecstasy. He glides in because I'm so wet already. And the feel of him pushing roughly past my pussy lips only creates more wetness. Of course, my hands are still tied, so I'm lying with my cheek on the table, unable to brace myself when he begins to ravage me relentlessly from behind. He's like a fucking jackhammer, trying to demolish my insides with his rock hard cock. It might be no more sensual than having a baseball bat shoved up my cunt, but god help me, I love it and want more and more of it.
I cum at least a couple times, screaming, panting, before he grabs my hair and yanks my head up off the table. The pain is like a lightning strike, electrifying my pussy and pushing me to yet another orgasm. And just when I feel like every nerve ending in my body is overloaded and I can't take it anymore, his finger will push into my ass, turning my head inside out with pleasure and setting off a whole string of orgasms. Only his strong frame behind me, pinning me to the table with his angry cock, keeps me from falling to the floor. I'm screaming, begging, whimpering... I don't even know what I'm saying; I'm so lost in a cloud of orgasmic euphoria. My pussy is clenching over and over on the cock impaling me, covering it with a generous glaze of my many orgasms.
Then I'm being yanked upright, my scalp again on fire and again that fire jolts my pussy. His cock slips out of me, causing my whole body to shudder from the sudden emptiness. In a haze, I feel him spin me around and even though I know what he's doing, my body doesn't move on its own. Not that I need to. He's going to move my body where he wants it. I feel his hands on my shoulders and before my mind makes any conscious decision to do so, I'm down on my knees again.
He likes me this way, this perfect fuck of mine. He likes me to kneel before him as he stands over me. He also likes to make me suck my own juices from his cock, something that always makes my pussy tingle. Sometimes he squeezes my nipples viciously while I pleasure him and the resulting flash of heat between my breasts and pussy make it difficult to concentrate on him the way I should.
Sometimes he makes me tell him what I want. He knows I want him to cum in my mouth. He knows I want to swallow it in the worst way. He knows if he steps back and waits, I'll fucking beg him for it. So if he's in a mood to, he'll stand just out of reach, his hard cock glistening with my cum and saliva, waiting, taunting. And I'll have to beg him for it.
When I beg him to let me have his cock back in my mouth, he asks why. And he makes me tell him that I want him to cum in my mouth. And again, he asks why. So I tell him because I need to swallow it. And again he asks why. There's no real answer to that question though. It's just a burning need coursing through my whole body... a fire that can only be quenched by gulping down the thick, salty strands that erupt from his cock and splash against the back of my throat and coat my tongue. It's too primal a need to be able to articulate. So I reiterate that I need it, I NEED it and beg him to feed it to me.
That's when he makes me confess.
I know the words. He's very specific about them, so naturally I know them quite well. First, he makes me say, "I'm a cocksucker." Then, stroking my now blush-reddened cheek, he makes me say, "And I have a cum fetish."
I hate that word, "fetish." It has more negative associations in my mind than "cocksucker." But there's really no denying that it's true. There really isn't much I won't say or do at this point to get his cock back into my mouth so I can drink that gods' nectar from his pulsing shaft.
He looks me in the eye with smug satisfaction, having made me say those words, made me confess them. But he steps up to me, slapping me in the face with his wet cock a few times, which I know shouldn't make my pussy throb, but somehow it does. Then finally he lets me have what I've been begging for. And I feel at once elated and slutty. Slutty, because he just proved he can get me to say just about anything at that moment. I'm like a junky staring at my fix and I don't care what I have to do to get it. And we all know what we call a girl who will do anything for a mouthful of cock and cum, right?
But the elation turns that sluttiness into a good thing... I know I was raised so totally different than this and I should be totally ashamed. But it's sooo hot and exciting and gratifying that, in the heat of the moment, I love being his slut. His cumslut.
With my hands tied, sucking him off takes a lot more effort, of course. Not only can I not caress his balls and stroke his shaft while I lick his vein, I can't brace myself. He, naturally, likes it that way. He says it makes me demonstrate just how badly I want it. Isn't that cruel? Making a girl who was raised to think this was immoral work even harder for it, as if to prove her immorality?
And I do want it as badly as I've ever wanted anything. That's the thing. So I bob deep and fast on his shaft until I feel that telltale swelling, combined with his moans and hip thrusts, that lets me know my reward is on its way.
When that first big blast hits the back of my throat, well... there are no words. If someone could capture that moment and bottle it, I'd want to buy a whole warehouse full of it. There's a euphoria that I get from feeling his release, tasting it, from knowing that I've brought him to this height of ecstasy.
Then I swallow it ravenously, gulping it as still more pours from his cock onto my tongue. I don't stop sucking either. I want every drop, so I keep bobbing aggressively to drain him completely. When I'm done, I want his balls to be shriveled and empty, all of their goodness down my throat in my belly.
Then he tells me I'm his good girl. Ironic, huh? I've just done something that a good girl (say, by my mother's definition) should never do. But to him, a good girl is one who swallows his cum. And somehow his definition matters more to me right now.
Naturally, I blush at his words. A modest girl always blushes when she's complimented on her cocksucking. He helps me to my feet, unfastens my bonds and kisses me with passion. His hands wrap possessively around me, pulling me close against his muscular body. He knows what he has in me... I am a perfect toy for him, so compliant, so willing. The way he holds me tells me he appreciates what a rare and wonderful thing I am.
If I'm lucky, he'll tell me that a few of his friends are coming over to watch the game tonight. And if I make him a nice dinner, he'll tell me suck their cocks and let them spray their cum on my face and on my breasts and down my throat. The mere suggestion starts the wetness flowing between my legs again. That shouldn't turn me on, should it? But it does and I want it. All of it.
So you see my dilemma, right? There's this side to me that no one really knows about. A side that has powerful wants, desires and needs. But being the proper lady I am, I can't easily talk about them. And the men I attract and am attracted to are men who would never do anything like that on their own. They don't have that selfish, dominant streak that could use me the way I need to be used.
So what's a girl to do??