Kink

My strength grew with each tremble, each moan and each suck of his mouth. He loved my pussy, he gave me a gift and I provided him with a treasure. My pussy. His tongue. My juice. His hunger. I flowed and he ate. He ate and I came. I melted and he hardened. He laid between my thighs and I felt superior looking down on him. And as he looked up into my eyes, as he moved his tongue within me, I became his slave. I never knew true control could only exist in surrender.

Shaking I slid down. My stance crumbled and I slid down onto the floor. Now we both were on our knees. I watched his head find my breast and sucked on my nipple through the fabric as his hands continued stroking my hips.

Kissing his way from my breast to my neck, to my cheek to my lips, he asked, ‘Let me fuck you.’

Closing my eyes, I no longer looked at the flames. I surrendered again. Throwing my head back and arching my body for his will I offered myself to him in silent submission. I spread my thighs and waited as he looked down on me. My hair flowed down my back in a river of silk. My throat was exposed and vulnerable. My breasts harden and full, overflowed from the fabric. My belly was firm with anticipation. My thighs were taut with tension as they held me up. My arms were as strong as columns as they kept me steady. My dress wrapped around my waist revealed gleaming thighs. My thighs were wet and slick from our wetness. My brush was not thick but like a light blanket protecting that which is most lusted after. I waited as he knelt there, breathing hard and heavy. His suit still perfect.

His hands moved, lifting me by my hips, spreading my thighs as I braced myself up, opening for his service. I didn’t want o see what he looked like. I just waited to feel him in me, pleasuring me, doing what he begged me permission to do. Thighs and calves wrapped around solid hips. Hips rose and pushed against hard flesh that sunk into the deepest crevices of my body. I heard and felt his moment of shock and surprise at the contact.

I felt the urgency in his movement, in his lust. In and out. Out and in. Deep and hard. Gentle and slow. He fucked my body. He fucked my body and I laid there and let him. I let him thrust and push. I let him suck me and bite me. I let him push and pull me and lose himself in me. I let him fuck me, hard and strong as he neared his end. I let him express his gratefulness and pleasure with each groan and thrust. I let him and I let him and then I came on his dick. I came on his hard pole that fucked me, that was in my pussy and that was fucking me, fucking me, and fucking me. Slap. Slap. Slap. Moisture became my enemy as it increased the force of his hips slamming against me over and over. He fucked me. As I became wetter and wetter the juice pooled from my body onto the floor. Wet and wetter, hot sweat poured and rolled over my flesh.

‘Yes! Yes! Yes!’ I panted as I felt the wave roll through me. ‘Yes! Yes! Yes!’ I screamed as it began to hurt so good, again and again and some more and some more. And I felt him lose it. Lose it, lose it, and give it to me in a moment of strength that left him incredibly weak. Sinking down I relaxed my body and laid on the floor like a limp blanket that no longer served a purpose. I turned my head and watched the fire, and I listen to him recover.

He touched me. He touched my thighs. His hands slid across my skin. He parted my thighs once more and again I felt something at my entrance. It was something much smaller and not nearly as hard as his dick. It was something I never felt before. I turned to him to see what it was but as I veered around he moved up me and we shared that first kiss. Softly he licked my lips and he lifted my thighs over his hip and inserted this foreign thing deeper inside of me. It slid in easily with no resistance as he kissed me. I watched him, as he kissed me, no longer through unseeing eyes. Once it was fully inside he ended his kiss and looked down at me. He smiled. His hand slipped into his jacket breast pocket and he pulled out a business card and slipped it into my dress, near my breast.

‘I told you you had potential. If you want more, call me.’ He rose up and off me. I followed suit, but he stopped me.

‘Stay, rest and you can join the party later. If you need something, a drink or something to eat then pickup the phone and Loita, the maid will answer and give you whatever you want.’

‘But what if the owner comes back?’

He laughed. ‘My dear, I am the owner. I was teasing you earlier. I am Harrison.’

And he left me. The moment the door closed I adjusted my clothing and fixed whatever makeup was left on my face, using the mirror. Almost in a near panic I located Sarah, begging for us to leave. She reluctantly left her new friend, but not without giving him her number. Collecting our things we left without incident. And with each passing moment I was aware that there was something still deep inside of me, placed there by Harrison. It felt like a control device left within me, a brand of sorts, like a collar masters give to their sexual slaves, marking territory. I wasn’t sure if I liked it.

Once at home, I ignored Sarah’s constant bickering about how unfair it was that we left so soon. Escaping her harshness I ran to my room and landed on my bed. Hesitant, I spread my legs and reached inside of myself. Gripping the edge of the object, I slowly pulled it out of me. It wasn’t a collar. It was something much better. It was a roll of 100-dollar bills, 10 bills to be exact. A 45-minute encounter gained me a thousand dollars. Needless to say from that point on, my whole life changed. I still got my degree, but in the end, I stayed in the profession I’m in. I found much it more rewarding, financially and sexually. Besides, I liked being my own boss.

That was six years ago. It was Harrison who introduced me to John.”

Malik sat there with a hard-on bigger than the Atlantic.

“And you don’t think that story was dramatic?”

I smiled and softly chuckled.

“You know working for you can be hard sometimes.”

Another chuckle. Crushing the end of my cigarette, I reached for my wine and drank.

“Boss lady, you think if I gave up a week’s pay I can afford you.”

Smiling I replied, “Sorry sweetie, it’s going to take more than a week. But who knows. I may surprise you. I still haven’t figured what to get you for your birthday.”

He groaned and I just laughed as I sipped on my wine.

Sebastian…

Finally, the week ended with Sebastian. He completes me. He calms me. He’s the one I’m almost in love with. He’s the one that makes love to me. He started out as a client, but then I simply stop charging him because I enjoy his company. He knows what I do and because of it we could never be more. I could quit but we both know it will not work. I’m not ready to quit. I love my job. I know he dates and that is fine. We simply enjoy what we have.

I met him when he was 17 years old. I was 20 and had been a prostitute for about a year. I met him at a book signing for the latest Ann Rice tale. We were waiting in line for our turn. It was a very long line. A conversation started regarding her literature. He was young, he was sweet, he was funny and he was shy. I liked him. We became friends. He didn’t find out about what I did until months later, by that time we became such good friends he didn’t care. I began giving him advice on women, dating and relationships. I taught him all I knew about gaining a woman’s attention and then finally he asked me if I would make his education complete. By that time he was 18 so I didn’t feel too bad. After about a year there wasn’t a woman on this earth that he couldn’t drive crazy. After about two years even I wasn’t an exception. He touched me in a place no man ever touched, my heart.

“Did you like the play?”

“It was sweet and touching.”

We were in front of Atlanta’s Centennial Olympic Park water fountain display. It was warm out and not that many people were about except other couples enjoying the night and the company. We talked. We flirted. We laughed. We were happy. That night we went to my place.

The lights were low. He sat on the couch where he waited and watched. I kicked off the leather high heels. I lifted my leg onto the coffee table. Then lifting my skirt I undid the fasteners of my garter belt. The silk stockings slid down my thigh, my calf, my ankle and my feet. Switching legs I repeated the process. There were no panties. They weren’t needed. I took off my top. It was black. Beneath was my bra. It too was black. It was an open cup bra from Frederick’s, which meant the upper part of my breasts and my nipples were exposed with the bottom gently holding my soft globes up.

He likes my breasts. He likes my nipples. He likes to watch them move as I move. I was moving now. Walking toward him, I climbed the loveseat that he sat on. This was a time when all those yoga and body sculpting classes came in handy because as I lifted my legs to each side of his head, my knees rested on the back of the couch while my feet buried themselves in the cushion seat. Maintaining this position after a few minutes can be difficult. My opened thighs were displayed directly in front of his mouth. I lifted the skirt as he brought that mouth closer. His cheeks brushed my inner skin and he kissed me. He didn’t touch me with any other part of him but his lips. His arms remained bent back as they grip the back of the sofa chair. He kissed me repeatedly with soft moist closed mouthed kisses. The soft suction was so sweet. Then I felt his tongue and that soft gentle licking. His slow licking of my pussy lips was sensual. The light pressure made me want more. I wanted him to kiss me deeply; to love my pussy; to kiss my pussy; to suck my pussy.

But he was gentle. He was gentle for a long time and I just wanted more. I wanted it so much. But I wouldn’t ask because I loved the wanting. I loved the ache. I loved having the feeling build. I loved the tension that grew in my body. I loved the anticipation of him doing more to me; more to my pussy; sucking my pussy; eating my pussy.

I knew when the change was coming. He moved. His hands slid up the outer curves of my thighs, down and around until he cupped my ass and pulled me closer. Slowly his licking became more intense, bolder, stronger and more forceful. I could feel and hear as his breathing become deeper and more forceful. His hand stroked and squeezed my ass with more force and I groaned. He groaned as I groaned and the vibration of the sound traveled into my pussy. And I felt it. I felt the juice pour out me in one big gush as my pussy tightened with desire. He just drank me up. His whole head moved with his feasting on my pussy. His mouth was part of it, his tongue was part of it, and his lips were part of it. Up and down, around and around, side to side. I loved side to side because his upper lip moved forcefully across my clit from left to right and the sensation spread upward into my body, deeper into my body and it wasn’t just centered in my pussy.

My hands grabbed the back of his head holding on to his hair as he sucked me. He sucked my clit. He took my clit into his mouth and he suck it, like I would suck him, like I would suck his ear... his tongue… his fingers… his nipples… his dick.

Finally he stopped teasing me. He stopped all together. Instead his hands moved up to my hips and bought me down from his mouth to his lap where I flooded his pants with wetness. There I sat with my thighs opened and to the side. The outer sides of my breasts rested against my inner thighs as I sat exposed. He smiled. Releasing a hip he slipped his hand down and inserted two… three… four fingers in my pussy. I cried it felt so good; so good to be filled; so good to have something to squeeze. He rested his thumb over my clit rather than directly on it and slowly sawed his hand back and forth inside me. Sweet music. Just when I thought I was happiest, he moved over my body, blanketing me with more kisses until finally he took a nipple into his mouth.

“Hold them for me,” he ordered and I cupped them, lifting them up higher for his feasting. I so love this man. With him hand fucking me and sucking on my breasts I couldn’t help but feel I was in heaven.

He knew how I like it- liked to have my breasts sucked. He knew I liked it when he used a lot of tongue and I liked it when he used his teeth across my tips. I liked it when he bit me oh so gently and sometimes oh so not gently. I loved how he turned my brown chocolate peaks to candy red mountains, so flushed and sensitive that all he had to do was lightly blow on them and I could cum. Simultaneously he pushed his hands harder inside my pussy. He milked my cunt and the tip of my breast in synchronized union.

He made me groan and scream as if I were being tortured and I was, tortured with pleasure and delight. Closer and closer I came toward bursting and each time he would stop and kiss me, letting me calm down, making a connection with me between each onslaught of pleasure.

It was doing his kisses that he pulled his hand free from my grapping hole. It was during the soft massage of his tongue against mine that I heard the downward pull of a zipper and tearing of a condom wrapper. It was during that kiss that he lifted me up and slowly lowered me onto his hard awaiting cock. It was doing that kiss that I took control and began riding him; pumping him, thrusting him deeper and deeper into the hole of his choice- my ass.

It was during the downward stroke that I rhythmically squeezed softly, creating that special vibe he loved so much. Now it was his turn to groan and throw his head back in pleasure. Watching him only made me hotter. My pussy was burning with pain and want. It hurt so good. If I didn’t cum soon I was convince I would pass out. Harder and harder I rode him, all but jamming his cock into my ass. Leaning over I began sucking on his neck and stroking the hard muscles of his chest while occasionally playing with his nipples. His left nipple was pierced. I took it into my mouth and sucked on it along with the attached ring. It was during the suck that he took control again. He held my ass again and pumped inside me repetitively, harder and faster with each second.

“Fuck me, baby!” I screamed.

Kiss.

“Fuck me.”

Suck.

“I so miss you.”

Bite.

“My ass misses you.”

Moan.

“Fuck my ass.”

Lick.

“Fuck my ass.”

Another bite.

“Please?”

A harder bite.

“Harder.”

A deep thrust.

“Harder.”

Skin smacked on skin.

“Fuck my ass.”

Nails pierced flesh.

“Oh you sweet big, dick, bitch.”

Faster.

“Fuck me.”

Harder.

“Fuck me.”

Deeper.

“Oh yes.”

Spurt.

He came…

…and he came and then he came some more and watching him sent me over the edge. I couldn’t hold out anymore. I came with him. Even as he finished I was still cumming, still crying, still forgetting how to breathe.

I was still basking in the afterglow when he gently laid me onto the sofa. I was humming with happiness as he curled up over me, anchoring my body with his. Reaching up to sweep my hair from my face I turned toward his ear and asked: blowjob?

“Not just yet,” he said.

So we rested, breathing and absorbing the moment. I felt at peace. I felt happy. I felt him grow harder, slowly but surely, and I smiled.

He rose off of me and we switch positions. Standing up he moved me forward, away from the sofa and got on his knees. He turned me around and I felt his breath on my ass. His hands gently spread my thighs. My pussy lips opened like a rose, red, moist and ready. He ordered me to bend over. My hair fell forward until it swept the carpet. I used the tips of my fingers to keep me steady and as close to my own body as possible.

There I stood bent over in an almost perfect V, almost as perfect as the V of my spread legs. Directly in front of his face was my wet cookie and right in front of mine was his hard cock. To make things a little easier he slid his hips a bit more forward. As he lifted his self I opened my mouth and his flesh slid between my lips. A few second later, I felt the soft lashings of his tongue against my moist center.

It was a unique take on the sixty-nine position. One that placed more strain on me than him, but it was a position I was trained for so I didn’t mind. Before I took him in I made sure my mouth was nice and wet. My tongue circled the outer contours of my mouth. He was thick all around and I needed to make sure I didn’t get little cuts in my lips from the stretching. He moved his hips and slowly began fucking my face.

To be honest in this position he was more in control than I was. There was only so far I could go between my own legs and if I went to far back I would lose him, so much of the moment relied on him. He loved this position. This way he could fuck my mouth and feel like I was completely opened for him. My mouth was open, receiving him every second of every fuck. My pussy was open, moist and hot. He loved looking at it. There it was right within his reaching, waiting for it to be pleased by him, he like smelling my scent and having it intensify as I got more and more turned on by this dick fucking my face.

He loved watching the contractions as they pushed my juices from my body. He loved watching them slowly bubble from my deep brown hole. He loved rubbing his face in my snatch and coating it in my juices as he sucked me slowly, eating me, drinking me, face fucking me.

He sucked me; my pussy; my clit; he sucked me; he ate me; he fucked me with his tongue and would not let me come. He would stop at the most intense moment. I don’t know what was his key, his clue to when I was about to go over. Maybe it was my breathing, maybe it was the sounds coming out of my mouth or maybe it was the way my body moved. I don’t know, but he knew.

It couldn’t be sexier. I loved when my thighs are spread so wide they felt as if they would break from the position. I loved having my pussy on display, so opened that you can see my gapping hole and I loved as he filled me in that moment.

Deeper and deeper he moved within my mouth until the juice of his body and my spit formed outside my mouth, making my face just as wet as his hips as they smacked against my cheeks. With each thrust the noise was louder than the last and stickier from the collusion of wet flesh on wet flesh. An occasional moan escaped my mouth. Sometimes the moan was of pleasure as his mouth worked its magic, sometimes it was in pain as he rammed himself hard into me without thought, and sometimes it was in surprise when his movements were faster than I could take, on both ends. He loved my responses regardless of the reason and he too repeated them moan for moan. His hand reached up and cupped my ass cheeks so he could watch as he spread me wider.

He stroked and squeezed them as he ate from my honey-potted pussy, feeling the soft suppleness of my cheeks. He loved the feel as he ate and ate and ate and ate until it was too much and he came in my mouth with a deep exhale and moan. He fell back, away from my body and mouth, onto the couch because he was unable to stand on his knees any longer. The quick jets that were once filling me now struggled to make the leap as the distance between us expanded. He spilled on the carpet instead of in my mouth. Tired, I slowly bent my knees and sank to the floor as well. I was too tired to finish myself off.

The next thing I remembered, I was still lying on the floor, but I was no longer curled up in a ball. This time I was on my back and he was in me, on top of me, fucking me while I slept. Yet despite my unconscious state my body responded to him as he moved inside me, at a rapid pace, pounding and pounding my body like a butcher pounds a piece of meat to make it tender.