Smoke and Flame

"Jesus, Riley. Fuck... That's so fucking hot. Fuuuck. Yes I want that. Yes. Fuck me, Daddy. God, just tell me what I have to say to get you to fuck me like that."

"That's a good start," you tell me, smirking, arrogant. "But I think I want you to show me. Get on your hands and knees. Show me that prettyboy pussy you want fucked so badly."

I shiver with the invitation, the demand.

"Yes, Daddy..." I say in a low voice. I stop fucking myself, fully strip off my pants and shirt that were halfway on. I get on all fours on the bed, exposing myself to you. I stretch and press my ass into the air, obeying your command.

The bed shifts under your weight as you position yourself behind me, and you mutter a half-audible string of curses as you stroke a thumb up my wet slit. "God, Pat..." I feel the head of your cock follow, rubbing against my clit for a moment, then teasing slowly at my entrance. "You've never looked better. So fucking slutty. So fucking hot..."

A hand braces on my left hip, and you sink into me slowly, an inch at a time, drawing out moans and whimpers from me.

When you're in me, all the way in, when I'm filled with you so tight I can barely fucking stand it, you still.

"Beg me until I tell you to stop," you order, so low it's barely above a whisper. Your other hand reaches around and teases, so softly, just around my clit.

"Ohh," I whimper. "Please, Daddy," I moan in a deep, slow voice. "Pleeeease."

"You know that's not good enough," you chide.

"Please, Daddy, please. Please fuck me. Please fuck me with your thick butch cock. Please make me cum on your cock like a needy little slut."

You laugh and pull almost all the way out of me, just to fuck back into me slow and deep. "If you say so, prettyboy. Don't fall in love with this dyke dick."

You push me into the pillows with that, and fuck deep into me again. Your hand caresses up my ass as you fuck me slowly, grabbing my ass like you can't get enough of me in your hands. I hear you mutter something, God knows what, through gritted teeth when I fuck back into you.

"God, can't get enough of it, can you?" you say.

"Mmm," I moan, muffled into the bedsheets.

"What's that?" you ask.

"No, Daddy, I can't get enough of it," I say, obedient.

"You're such a slut," you tell me.

"Yes, Daddy," I say, eager to agree. "Your slut."

You growl and jerk your hips inside me, and I moan.

"Such a filthy boy," you tell me, like it's the highest compliment you can offer, as you stroke me faster and fuck me harder. You grip my hip with your other hand, guiding me back on your cock. "So goddamn desperate. Bet you'd bend over like this for any butch who blew smoke in your slutty little mouth."

"Yes," I moan. "Yes, yes, yes..." There's no point in denying it, and the feeling of your fingers rubbing my clit has me dizzy with desire.

"Yeah," you pant, body pressing into mine, "I fucking know it. Just wanna cum on a butch cock, don't you, prettyboy?" Your laughter is breathy, and you fuck into me extra hard for emphasis: "Just want to be fucked -- like a handsome -- little -- whore." 'Whore' comes out half-hissed, half-gasped, and your fingers rub my clit faster, finding a pattern of small circles that matches the rhythm of your strokes inside of me.

Just when I think you're going to keep fucking me like this until we both cum, you pause and tell me to flip over.

I do, almost shy to look you in the eyes after all this dirty fucking. Almost.

You press your thick cock at my opening again, fucking slowly into me. I grip the bedsheets and moan.

"Yes, Daddy. Fuck, Daddy. Fuck me like that, Daddy."

"God, you look so pretty all fucked out and pathetic like this," you say.

I love the mix of praise and degradation -- pretty and pathetic. I'm drunk on it.

"Do you like that, prettyboy? Do you like being told what a pathetic, needy little slut you are?"

Panting and moaning, I don't give you an answer.

"Answer me, you dumb slut. Or are you too dumb and cockdrunk to form words anymore, hmm?"

Fuck. It's a little humiliating, but it's not like you're wrong.

"Yes, Daddy," I manage to moan. "I like it."

"Good boy," you praise me, bass in your voice, bringing a hand to my clit again and stroking slowly. "You sound so sweet and stupid saying that. So fucking pretty. Say it again for me. 'I like it.'"

Fuck. My cunt clenches around your cock. My mouth goes dry.

"I like it," I say. "I like it. I like it." Every time I say it my skin gets a degree hotter.

"Good job, prettyboy," you growl, fucking me faster; your hand on me finds those circles around my clit again, and you pull my head back by the hair so I'm looking you in the eyes. "So good. Such a pliant little slut. Do you wanna cum on this butch cock, you slutty little toy?"

"Oh, God. Yes, Daddy. Yes, Daddy. Please, please please please... Please make me cum, Daddy." The truth is I'm already close, and I'm hoping that you give me permission before I cum anyway.

"Oh, I'll make you cum, boy," you hiss a promise through thrusts, jaw taut and eyes blazing; "but you're gonna scream my name when you do it, understand? Let the whole street know whose cock you're cumming on."

"Yes, Daddy, yes, please, yes."

"Then cum for me, Pat," you snarl in my ear, fucking me hard and deep, rubbing me inside and out until the sensations blur and merge. "Cum on this big butch cock, prettyboy. Say my name."

"Riley..." I moan. "Riley, Riley, Riley, Riley..." I'm so close. I can feel the sensations building and growing in that delicious, addictive way. Please, please, I think. I'm so close. So close. So... Close...

"Riley!" I scream, letting the pleasure take over my body. The waves come crashing over me, and I continue moaning until the last wave peaks and falls. "Fuck, Riley. Fuck."

You fuck me through it, slowing only when my hips and my moans do. The room sounds so quiet, suddenly, without my noises, your growling in my ear. I can just hear our heavy breaths and the wind rattling the trees outside. Fuck. When did it even get windy? Have we really been that loud?

That thought stutters, stalls, and stops entirely when you move your hand from my clit and trace two wet fingers over my lips.

I open my mouth for you easily, lick your fingers up greedily, close my eyes and moan. God. My cunt throbs and aches from your thorough and generous fucking. I taste salty and sweet and slutty.

You watch with hungry eyes as I lick myself off your hand; you fuck your fingers into my mouth a little deeper, just for a second, and curse underbreath when you pull them away and find them wetter than before, covered in my spit.

"Jesus Christ. That's a good boy, Pat."

You shift your weight back onto your elbows, on either side of me, and pull out of me, slowly, watching my face as you withdraw. Searching.

"Well? Do you think you were good? Because I sure fucking do."

I nod slowly. "Thank you, Daddy. Fuck. Thank you." I've needed a good hard fucking like this for a while.

"Well, boy? Are we done, or do you want me to... clean you up?" You say this with hunger in your voice, your eyes roaming down my body.

Fuck. My aching cunt clenches at the thought.

"God, Daddy. Yeah. Yes."

You grin at me, hands drifting down to my thighs. "Well, since you asked so nicely," you muse, and trail off as your gaze drifts lower, to my wet and waiting cunt.

You tug me toward your mouth by the hips in one quick, urgent motion; I don't have time to moan before your tongue is on me, trailing up my lips and lapping slowly at my clit, like you're savoring every drop of me that you can find.

I'm gasping and clawing at the bedsheets, my hips bucking into your face.

"Fuck," I moan. "Fuck, Riley. Fuck me. Christ. Ah. Ohh..."

You moan into my pussy, the vibrations from your mouth setting off a fire inside my belly.

"Oh, God, Daddy, yes," I gasp. "Yes, Daddy, yes, just like that..." I go on, encouraging you as your soft tongue teases my clit faster.

"Harder, please, Daddy," I moan. "Harder, harder, more, please," I beg.

You do not oblige me.

You stay at your soft touch, switching patterns and going slower and faster, but never harder, never giving me the pressure that I want, that I need.

"Daddy, please," I beg, and I try to buck into your mouth, chasing your tongue with my hips.

You set a firm hand on my hips, pushing me back into the bed and pinning me there. "Stay. Still," you rasp. "Take it like a good toy." Your serious tone sends a strike of electricity through me.

You keep your hand on my hip as you return to teasing me, seeing what strings of whines, moans, and half-finished pleas you can pull out of me. You lick me fast, but relentlessly light, and I can barely gasp out a syllable. When I think I might shatter, actually explode into a thousand clouds of dust and stars from the friction, you find a new way to torture me with your tongue: slow, teasing licks just around my clit, not on it. I squirm, plead, curse, but the most I get is a muffled laugh before you change your pattern again.

"God dammit, Riley. You're a fucking monster," I curse you. "What do I have to do?" I whine.

You pull back a moment and smirk at me; your fingers take over for your tongue as you speak, tracing and teasing around my clit.

"The begging's cute, prettyboy, don't get me wrong, but I've heard a lot of 'please, please, please' tonight." You stroke my clit with your thumb lightly, grip firm on my hip with your other hand. "And I've been nice to you, tonight, ain't I? So nice. So I wanna hear 'thank you, Daddy' instead."

"Yes, Daddy. Thank you, Daddy, thank you, thank you," I start, but you cut me off.

"No, boy. When someone does something nice for you, you get specific." You give me just a little more pressure on the word specific, and that small surge in stimulation is enough to send another bolt of electricity through my cunt and up my spine. "Thank me right for how nice I've been tonight, and I'll let you cum on my face."

"Yes, Daddy. God, fuck," I begin, looking for the words. I'm a little distracted by your tongue returning to my clit in slow, deliberate strokes. "Fuuuck, thank you, Daddy. Thank you for eating my pussy. Thank you for fucking me open with your big butch cock. Thank... you... for... your tongue... on my clit... yeah, just like that, that's so good, you're so good, Daddy, you're so good at fucking me. Please keep fucking me. Thank you, Daddy."

Your tongue pauses and you say from between my legs, "Better. Keep going."

You're back to licking my clit slow and heavy, so patient.

"God. I... Thank you for -" My breath catches, and it's getting harder to think as your tongue strikes and feeds the fire building in my blood.

"'Thank you for making me scream your name, Daddy,'" you order me, between licks. Your free hand teases a few fingers between my folds, teasing me, spreading my cum around like I'm canvas and you're trying to paint an orgasm out of me.

I can barely manage to gasp out a response, desperate to obey, desperate to cum: "Thank you... fuck, thank you for... for making me... scream your name, Daddy..."

"Good boy. 'Thank you for shotgunning me those last two hits because I'm a little bitch.'" I can feel your grin on my skin.

I flush hot in embarrassment and indignation. Fuck you, I think about saying, but I know that's not smart. God dammit.

"Thank you..." I say through gritted teeth. "For shotgunning me those last two hits because... I'm a little bitch." My cheeks grow warmer. You fucking asshole.

You hum your approval, licking my clit up firm and steady. I moan, and you move your hand off my hip, where your fingers have marked the measure of my desperation. "Good little bitch. Cum for me, you fucking slut."

You bury your face in my cunt, tongue hard and heavy on my clit, finally -- finally -- pulling me into you instead of pinning me painfully out of reach of your mouth. I buck into your tongue and you groan again, encouraging me as I cry out:

"Thank you, Daddy! Fuck yes. Thank you, Daddy. Thank you, Daddy..."

I'm so wet and almost painfully hard, so turned on for you. So close to cumming again already, like a good slut.

You suck my clit into your mouth, lapping, humming your approval as my thighs twitch and tense around your head. A finger slips slowly inside of me and curls, hitting the spot that drove me so wild earlier, on the couch, where all of this started.

"Fuck, thank you, Daddy. Thank you, Daddy. Daddy. Daddy. Fuck, mmm, Riley -- fuck, Daddy, Riley, Riley, Riley..."

My thighs clench and electricity flames and grows in my clit, and the pleasure starts to build in that familiar way again, and my hips are jerking desperately, chasing that orgasm. It finally crests and peaks and I scream out, "Riley!" one final time, hands clenched in the sheets, knuckles turning white.

You lick my clit softly as I come down, sending extra sparks of pleasure through me.

"Fuck, Riley..." I laugh, feeling giddy.

"Jesus God, Pat," you gasp, pulling away from me, your face now as wet as your cock. "I mean, fuck." You catch your breath, and add, "I can't believe I'm saying this, but maybe we should run low more."

"Mmm," I groan. "Come here."

You shift up, grinning. "What? You want another taste of yourself?" You hover above me for a moment, our faces inches apart; if my heart keeps pounding on and off like this it's going to leave an indent in my sternum.

"Riley," I whine.

"Can't blame you. You taste pretty fucking good."

Your warm mouth meets mine, your tongue slipping in, and I taste myself: sweet and tangy and wet. I moan into your kiss and bring a hand up to fist your hair, tugging on it and making you groan in the way I'm learning you do.

The kiss grows heated and breathless, until we pull away panting.

When I catch my breath, I venture to ask, "So... Do you, uh... want to cum? I could suck you off, or..."

You shake your head, settling next to me. "Nah, I'm good. Watching you cum on my cock like that... tasting you? I got what I wanted." You wink, and then gesture to the bedside table beside me. "Can you open that, though? I'm. Jesus. I'm kind of dying for a cigarette. They're on the right side."

"Sure," I say, hiding a grimace. I'm not a fan of cigarettes, but I can hardly begrudge you when we're out of weed.

I pass you the cigarette and a lighter from the drawer.

"Thanks." You tuck the cigarette behind your ear, thumbing the side of the lighter a moment as you look at me, searching my face for a minute. Silence falls, and then, just as quickly, you break it: "Are you okay, dude? That was... not exactly on the itinerary. I mean. I can't say I'm complaining, but..."

"Yeah, dude... I'm good. I'm, uh... better than good. Fuck, Riley... Jesus Christ."

You chuckle, and shuffle an arm under my shoulders. "Always nice to get a rave review."

I start to snap a comeback -- something short and sweet and ineffective, like fuck off, bro -- but your quick kiss cuts me off.

When you withdraw and light your cigarette, the smoke you exhale spirals up towards the ceiling. In that way, and that way only, the night ends how it began.