He pushed me against the locker roughly, hands frantically trying to undo the buttons on my top. So rough, I worried he might rip the buttons off.
Our mouths were locked together, my back pressed against the locker, held up in the air with my legs wrapped around him. At 6'2", over 200 pounds, he easily held me up.
My top, finally unbuttoned, with none ripped off, fell open, showing my red bra. He left my lips, kissing my exposed cleavage. I tried to take my top off as he kissed my breasts, but with me pinned to the locker, it didn't work, and I soon gave up to start working on his getting his jersey off.
His shirt came off with a slight grunt from him, and he was back to attacking my breasts. He lowered me down to the ground, setting me down, and I took off my top, trowing it to the side, then took off my top. He showed his appreciation of my freed breasts, not by staring, but by sucking. He grabbed my left breast while putting his mouth around my right nipple. His hand squeezed the one breast while his teeth bit down on the nipple. It hurt, my eyes tearing up slightly, but excited me.
His sweat hung on him like a cologne, pungent, yet intoxicating. It smelled manly, testosterone laced. I pulled his sweats down, exposing his boxers, and was rewarded with fingers grasping my panties under my skirt, the part covering my pussy, and him pulling. Hard. I heard them rip. It stung slightly, but mixed with the lust and drove me to return the favor, pulling his boxers down.
He quickly stepped out of them, and picked me up, pushing me against the locker again.
He buried his face in my breasts as I felt his stiff cock press against my pussy. He pushed in slightly, moistening the tip, and pulled back out. Pushed in again, deeper. Thrust in again, entering me further, a gasp escaping my lips. Two more thrusts, and he was in me completely. He thrust quickly, over and over, his cock almost out, then back in, almost to my cervix. Back out, and in again.
Meanwhile his mouth found mine, and we locked our lips together, tongues exploring, penetrating. Mine penetrating his mouth, his penetrating mine. His hands squeezed my breasts, caught my nipples, pulled them.
Already I felt myself close to orgasm, pushed over the edge when I felt his cum fill my pussy.
I wrapped my arms around him and squeezed tight as the orgasm rolled over me.
I stayed there as he thrust deep inside a couple more times, his cum warming my pussy, filling it to overflowing.
Putting me back down, my legs spread, the cum dripping from my lips, sticky, wet, hot.
"TJ, get out here, now," the coach yelled.
"Shit, he must have caught us," I said.
TJ just gave me a grin and started pulling on his clothes.
We left the locker room, and I gave him a quick kiss. From the office next to the hall, we heard "Get your ass in here and close the door."
I squeezed his hand and continued on, leaving the hall, to wait for him near his car.
I didn't wait that long for him. About 10 minutes later, he opened the door and walked across the parking lot.
"What did he say?" I asked, worried that one, or both, of us would be in trouble.
"That he needs me to come in this Saturday for practice. He is worried about my stance."
"What?" I asked, wonder what he was talking about.
My boyfriend laughed. "He didn't say anything about us having sex in the locker room. He was just worried about the next game, and wanted to work with me to improve."
I felt both relieved, and a little let down. "Oh."
TJ laughed again. "I am his best lineman. He wouldn't care if we had sex on his desk, as long as I get the job done."
I let out my own laugh, definitely not ladylike, and flashed him a grin. "So, when are we hitting his office?"
We were both high school students. While I might not have been the cheerleader type, I was still popular, and still dating TJ.
TJ was the biggest guy on the football team. He was almost ruggedly handsome, but not quite. In fact, TJ was mostly an almost when it came to looks. Almost attractive. His eyes almost an attractive color. His hair almost wavy, almost the right shade of dark brown.
The sad part was, TJ was just as close to ugly as attractive. He was...average, in every way. Until you got to his body.
He was big. As stated before, 6'2" tall. He was over 200 pounds, and not in fat. Pure muscle, he was the very essence of testosterone fueled men. While no one would ever call him handsome, no one would ever call him anything bad, at least not to his face.
I loved to run my hands over his chest, play with his pecs. Squeeze his tight ass. I felt safe with him, secure. No one tried to do shit to me, not with him around.
Lately though, it had not been going well. His temper seemed to have picked up. One time, we had an argument, and he hit me. He promised it would never happen again, so I let it slide. After all, I loved him. It seemed like we had sex less often, like he wasn't in the mood. I didn't understand why-until I caught him.
Friday, November 20, 2015
Party girl outline
Warning, if you hate spoilers, do not click the show/hide button!
This is an outline, for those who do not mind spoilers, for my party girl story. I will expand it more going forward also.
Also, I will use this as an Author's Comments post, so I do not need to clutter up the story with my additional comments.
I will be using stronger language in this story than normal, since it is more of a fringe element of society than my normal writings. Be prepared for more vulgar terms and cussing, and probably some story violence.
Please note I will include things that I don't know much about. So, if you see anything I wrote that is wrong, please let me know what and how to fix it so I am putting the right stuff in.
I do not know much about football, other than it has a bunch of guys trying to get a ball to the end, and they like to randomly collide with each other to keep the other side away. lol, I do know a little more, but figure that my knowledge does not extend much beyond that.
Also, I will write about drug use. Now, I am not an innocent girl in this subject. I have used pot, alcohol, mushrooms, ecstasy (Although I only tried this once, while I was doing cocaine, so not sure what it is like by itself), LSD, crank, cocaine, crystal meth, and speed. However, I will also be writing about others like heroine. What I write will be more based on what I can find on the internet like "What does it feel like to be on it and to come down from it". So, again, if I make mistakes, please let me know.
Some of this story will be based on my personal experiences (Like drugs use, and a little bit about what it felt like trading sex for drugs), but I will be writing beyond my experience, so feel free to give me corrections. And yes, I didn't forget my first time using xtc. But, I wanted to create a situation where I had sex with someone else without even realizing it, and hinting that it may be my boyfriend, not Sam, that got Sam's girlfriend pregnant. No, I doubt I will go anywhere with any of that. It was just more to let readers think about what actually transpired during the first party, and the type of person my character is. She isn't the nice person who made some bad mistakes. She is a stuck up bitch who only cares about herself. This is to help remove the sympathy of someone who made some bad choices.
And yes, I realize my quality is not the best at the moment. I have my own ups and downs...I want to write this story, but I guess I am not putting my best writing out there. I think I will use my new pages to fix stories, and will fix this more when I put it on a separate page.
I may update this more as I continue working on the story.
This is an outline, for those who do not mind spoilers, for my party girl story. I will expand it more going forward also.
Also, I will use this as an Author's Comments post, so I do not need to clutter up the story with my additional comments.
I will be using stronger language in this story than normal, since it is more of a fringe element of society than my normal writings. Be prepared for more vulgar terms and cussing, and probably some story violence.
Please note I will include things that I don't know much about. So, if you see anything I wrote that is wrong, please let me know what and how to fix it so I am putting the right stuff in.
I do not know much about football, other than it has a bunch of guys trying to get a ball to the end, and they like to randomly collide with each other to keep the other side away. lol, I do know a little more, but figure that my knowledge does not extend much beyond that.
Also, I will write about drug use. Now, I am not an innocent girl in this subject. I have used pot, alcohol, mushrooms, ecstasy (Although I only tried this once, while I was doing cocaine, so not sure what it is like by itself), LSD, crank, cocaine, crystal meth, and speed. However, I will also be writing about others like heroine. What I write will be more based on what I can find on the internet like "What does it feel like to be on it and to come down from it". So, again, if I make mistakes, please let me know.
Some of this story will be based on my personal experiences (Like drugs use, and a little bit about what it felt like trading sex for drugs), but I will be writing beyond my experience, so feel free to give me corrections. And yes, I didn't forget my first time using xtc. But, I wanted to create a situation where I had sex with someone else without even realizing it, and hinting that it may be my boyfriend, not Sam, that got Sam's girlfriend pregnant. No, I doubt I will go anywhere with any of that. It was just more to let readers think about what actually transpired during the first party, and the type of person my character is. She isn't the nice person who made some bad mistakes. She is a stuck up bitch who only cares about herself. This is to help remove the sympathy of someone who made some bad choices.
And yes, I realize my quality is not the best at the moment. I have my own ups and downs...I want to write this story, but I guess I am not putting my best writing out there. I think I will use my new pages to fix stories, and will fix this more when I put it on a separate page.
I may update this more as I continue working on the story.
Thursday, November 19, 2015
Party girl-part 1 (Sex fantasy)
So, as most people who have spent any time with me in naughty chat knows, I have my own kink: public use/exhibitionism. I like to be watched. I have even seriously thought about camming, but I don't want to ruin my life. I know too many horror stories, and even have my own, of women who have had their lives ruined by letting the wrong person see them in sexually compromised positions. That doesn't mean I don't fantasize about it. As for why I am in the mood to write about a dark sexual use like this, objectification, debasement, things like that, I don't know, but, that is my mood.
"Please, just one line," I begged him. I was jonesing pretty bad. It had already been a couple days since I got high. Shit, too many people knew me at the parties I went to already, so getting a fix was harder and harder.
"I will suck your dick. Just one line."
I held out my hand, shaking bad. "I look like I am in the middle of a fucking personal earthquake. Just hook me up."
He still didn't seem to be willing, just staring at me, not bothering to say shit, to do shit. I was getting desperate. "One line, I will let you fuck me." His eyes lit up a little at that.
"Take it off," he said. "Then I will decide."
I knew what he meant. I wasn't sure if he was just trying to get a free look at a naked girl, or if he was really interested. Fuck it, I didn't care. I would have ran to his house naked for a line if he asked me.
I took off my sweats, my hoodie. I took off my panties and bra. They were nothing special, plain white panties, white under-wire bra. The cloth worn, the wire poking me, making red, angry sores on my breasts. Track marks trailed down my arms, across my thigh. My hair lank, unwashed. I was not ugly, but I looked like what I was-a junkie.
He just looked at me. It was creepy, his eyes holding no emotion, not even lust.
"One line, one fuck."
I nodded.
"Bend over the couch."
I waited where I was, not moving.
"What are you doing? Get over there whore."
I wasn't stupid. If I didn't get paid first, I wouldn't get paid after.
"Not until you give me the coke. I am not fucking stupid."
He gave me a look that said it all. I was fucking stupid. Just not stupid enough to bend over for this fucker without getting paid.
He grabbed a mirror and poured the course white powder on it. "You do it yourself. And if you try to run after, I will fuck you up."
I knew he would too. He could have just taken me and not even have bothered to honor his deal, but he did honor it anyways.
My hands shaking, I knelt down, putting the mirror with the cocaine on the table, crushing the rocks then chopping. The blade working up and down on the powder, dividing it, chopping it finer, finer still. It was a nice line.
He just watched, cold eyes. The other two guys in the room watched with more interest, but they were just peripherals. He was the dangerous one, the one I didn't want to piss off, or else he would just put a bullet in me and call it done.
I look up at him and saw the offered straw. Cheap shit too. It looked like it came from McDonalds or something. It probably did, and had probably been used.
I cut it small, shoving it into my nose, snorting up the precious white powder.
It felt the sting. It wasn't the best quality, but it was good enough. I could feel it burning my nostril, trickling down the back of my throat. I closed my eyes and savored the taste. I used to hate the taste. Fucking bitter, taste like chemicals. Now, I savored it, like the sweetest candy.
As it started hitting me, the high starting to take me, I went to the couch.
He came up behind me, grabbing my hair, pulling me behind the couch, instead of on it.
He shoved my head down, my face buried in the cushions. I heard the metal of his belt, the clasp coming undone. The zip of his pants, the rustling as they came down.
Soon, he was ready, cock against my opening, shoving itself in. It hurt like hell, and I screamed, but it didn't matter. The coke soon helped take the pain away, and he was thrusting into me. He pounded into me, over and over and over, hard, like hate sex. Soon he finished, pulling out. His hand moved to the back of my head, preventing me from lifting it.
Suddenly, another cock pushed against my pussy lips, slick with cum dripping from them. From the way he was holding my head, I knew it wasn't him, had to have been one of the others. I was taken by one of his boys, not much gentler, although now, with my pussy lubricated, my head pounding with the coke, it didn't matter. I tried to speak out, tell him this wasn't part of the deal. One line, one guy. It didn't matter. They were going to train me.
As I lay across the couch, my pussy pounded, I thought about how I had come to this. Not something I bother doing, but the coke was already in charge, making my mind whir with thoughts about...everything. It all started with my boyfriend.
I took off my sweats, my hoodie. I took off my panties and bra. They were nothing special, plain white panties, white under-wire bra. The cloth worn, the wire poking me, making red, angry sores on my breasts. Track marks trailed down my arms, across my thigh. My hair lank, unwashed. I was not ugly, but I looked like what I was-a junkie.
He just looked at me. It was creepy, his eyes holding no emotion, not even lust.
"One line, one fuck."
I nodded.
"Bend over the couch."
I waited where I was, not moving.
"What are you doing? Get over there whore."
I wasn't stupid. If I didn't get paid first, I wouldn't get paid after.
"Not until you give me the coke. I am not fucking stupid."
He gave me a look that said it all. I was fucking stupid. Just not stupid enough to bend over for this fucker without getting paid.
He grabbed a mirror and poured the course white powder on it. "You do it yourself. And if you try to run after, I will fuck you up."
I knew he would too. He could have just taken me and not even have bothered to honor his deal, but he did honor it anyways.
My hands shaking, I knelt down, putting the mirror with the cocaine on the table, crushing the rocks then chopping. The blade working up and down on the powder, dividing it, chopping it finer, finer still. It was a nice line.
He just watched, cold eyes. The other two guys in the room watched with more interest, but they were just peripherals. He was the dangerous one, the one I didn't want to piss off, or else he would just put a bullet in me and call it done.
I look up at him and saw the offered straw. Cheap shit too. It looked like it came from McDonalds or something. It probably did, and had probably been used.
I cut it small, shoving it into my nose, snorting up the precious white powder.
It felt the sting. It wasn't the best quality, but it was good enough. I could feel it burning my nostril, trickling down the back of my throat. I closed my eyes and savored the taste. I used to hate the taste. Fucking bitter, taste like chemicals. Now, I savored it, like the sweetest candy.
As it started hitting me, the high starting to take me, I went to the couch.
He came up behind me, grabbing my hair, pulling me behind the couch, instead of on it.
He shoved my head down, my face buried in the cushions. I heard the metal of his belt, the clasp coming undone. The zip of his pants, the rustling as they came down.
Soon, he was ready, cock against my opening, shoving itself in. It hurt like hell, and I screamed, but it didn't matter. The coke soon helped take the pain away, and he was thrusting into me. He pounded into me, over and over and over, hard, like hate sex. Soon he finished, pulling out. His hand moved to the back of my head, preventing me from lifting it.
Suddenly, another cock pushed against my pussy lips, slick with cum dripping from them. From the way he was holding my head, I knew it wasn't him, had to have been one of the others. I was taken by one of his boys, not much gentler, although now, with my pussy lubricated, my head pounding with the coke, it didn't matter. I tried to speak out, tell him this wasn't part of the deal. One line, one guy. It didn't matter. They were going to train me.
As I lay across the couch, my pussy pounded, I thought about how I had come to this. Not something I bother doing, but the coke was already in charge, making my mind whir with thoughts about...everything. It all started with my boyfriend.
Blog change
Did you miss me?
My hard nipples, poking into the soft fabric of my blouse? Rubbing against the fabric, straining for release, to be free, the breeze gently running across their sensitive surface. To be teased, a rough tongue gently playing over the firm surface. To be pinched, and poked. Thumb and finger gently squeezing the pink, hard flesh. Tugging them, stretching them, as a soft moan escapes my lips.
Sorry, I got a little sidetracked.
I guess that is the consequence of trying to read the writings of a girl with serious ADHD...I tend to start great, but then end up doing something else and disappear for a while.
So, what did you miss? The short skirts, the high heels, the leather and lace?
Dancing at the club, he is so close i can feel his breath on me. Who is he? I don't know, I was just dancing. We are almost touching, his eyes lingering on my low cut dress, watching my cleavage, the inner mounds of my breasts. I get lost in the beat, lost in the world, feeling the pounding, feeling the rhythm, hips swaying, feet shuffling, arms swaying to the rhythm. Primal, raw, intoxicating. I feel him touch me, but I am lost, not noticing beyond being aware, not caring. His hand brushes against my side, and I move closer, enjoying the sensation. I press myself against him, enjoying the touch as the beat entrances me. He grabs my left ass cheek, softly squeezing. A thrill runs through me, and I return the favor, grabbing his ass in turn. It is hard, muscled, feels good in my hand. I bring my lips up, facing him, eyes closed as a revel in the sensations, the music, the touch. His lips find mine. His dry lips. Cracked, rough. I prefer softness, but it doesn't matter, lost in the moment. His tongue forces its way between my lips. I think of resisting, but give in. I don't even know what he looks like, who he is, eyes closed, feeling his tongue thrust into my waiting mouth in time with the music. I press my body against his side, my legs almost wrapped around his leg, breasts mashed against him, as his need for my mouth pushes his tongue in frantic motions. He ate onions, his breath heavy with them. I don't like onions, but I ignore it, focusing on the music, and what his other hand is doing, since it is now squeezing my breast. One on my ass cheek, one on my breast. Tit for tat, I grab his groin. I can feel his hard bulge under his jeans. Tight jeans. Not a bad package. My eyes open wide as he slips his hand under my dress, pushing his fingers against my panties, rubbing them against my pussy. He hasn't shaved for a few days, his stubble black. His eyes brown. Nose slightly offset, like it had been broken and not put back quite right. Or broken more than once. A tattoo on his cheek, A pot leaf. A septum piercing, the ring thick. His eyes look cold. A gangbanger or something? That is what he looks like. Raw, intimidating, powerful. The music, the man, matching. He looks like the kind of guy you ask to kill someone, not the kind of man you bring to mom and dad. Dangerous. So why am I letting him pull me towards the back?
Sorry, see, sidetracked. You can use your imagination to figure out what me and him do in the back, back room, bathroom, alley. Who knows. Anyways, that is not what this post is about. It is to let everyone know I am back, and horny as ever. I know I have an old story to finish, Brotherly Love, but I will be starting a new story. About a party girl, and things that go to far. I can't explain why I am in the mood for darker fantasy. For writing about humiliation, degradation, and objectification, a girl who goes to far and doesn't really care, but that is what I will be working on next. I will get back to Brotherly Love sometime...
But also, I will be changing the blog a bit. I am going to try experimenting with the pages system, see if I can put chain stories together, so they are easier to read together. We will see how that works out. I am not computer stupid, but not that great either, so it may end up a mess. Then again, messed can be fun. Hot, sticky, salty messes, on my tits, on my ass, on my face and in my mouth, in my pussy. Want to watch me swallow?
Anyways, so, a little heads up on what is coming, and sorry to frustrate, it is not intentional. It is just the consequence of enjoying stories written by someone with a few...focus problems...
Update: Yes, I have noticed the format is all messed up on some that I copied and pasted from another location. The EP copy/pastes are the worst -.-
I am trying to fix this...
Warned you it might be a little...messy...
More updates: Disappearing posts-some posts will be disappearing from the home page feed. They are still there, but will be hidden. These are the ones I have created a separate page for. The links to the original posts will be at the top of those pages, so the stories aren't gone, and the comments on those won't be gone either. They will just not clutter up the home page. I think I will eventually move all "story/experience" posts to their own page, so the home page will just be my whatever ramblings.
Anyways, let me know what you think of the changes in the comments.
My hard nipples, poking into the soft fabric of my blouse? Rubbing against the fabric, straining for release, to be free, the breeze gently running across their sensitive surface. To be teased, a rough tongue gently playing over the firm surface. To be pinched, and poked. Thumb and finger gently squeezing the pink, hard flesh. Tugging them, stretching them, as a soft moan escapes my lips.
Sorry, I got a little sidetracked.
I guess that is the consequence of trying to read the writings of a girl with serious ADHD...I tend to start great, but then end up doing something else and disappear for a while.
So, what did you miss? The short skirts, the high heels, the leather and lace?
Dancing at the club, he is so close i can feel his breath on me. Who is he? I don't know, I was just dancing. We are almost touching, his eyes lingering on my low cut dress, watching my cleavage, the inner mounds of my breasts. I get lost in the beat, lost in the world, feeling the pounding, feeling the rhythm, hips swaying, feet shuffling, arms swaying to the rhythm. Primal, raw, intoxicating. I feel him touch me, but I am lost, not noticing beyond being aware, not caring. His hand brushes against my side, and I move closer, enjoying the sensation. I press myself against him, enjoying the touch as the beat entrances me. He grabs my left ass cheek, softly squeezing. A thrill runs through me, and I return the favor, grabbing his ass in turn. It is hard, muscled, feels good in my hand. I bring my lips up, facing him, eyes closed as a revel in the sensations, the music, the touch. His lips find mine. His dry lips. Cracked, rough. I prefer softness, but it doesn't matter, lost in the moment. His tongue forces its way between my lips. I think of resisting, but give in. I don't even know what he looks like, who he is, eyes closed, feeling his tongue thrust into my waiting mouth in time with the music. I press my body against his side, my legs almost wrapped around his leg, breasts mashed against him, as his need for my mouth pushes his tongue in frantic motions. He ate onions, his breath heavy with them. I don't like onions, but I ignore it, focusing on the music, and what his other hand is doing, since it is now squeezing my breast. One on my ass cheek, one on my breast. Tit for tat, I grab his groin. I can feel his hard bulge under his jeans. Tight jeans. Not a bad package. My eyes open wide as he slips his hand under my dress, pushing his fingers against my panties, rubbing them against my pussy. He hasn't shaved for a few days, his stubble black. His eyes brown. Nose slightly offset, like it had been broken and not put back quite right. Or broken more than once. A tattoo on his cheek, A pot leaf. A septum piercing, the ring thick. His eyes look cold. A gangbanger or something? That is what he looks like. Raw, intimidating, powerful. The music, the man, matching. He looks like the kind of guy you ask to kill someone, not the kind of man you bring to mom and dad. Dangerous. So why am I letting him pull me towards the back?
Sorry, see, sidetracked. You can use your imagination to figure out what me and him do in the back, back room, bathroom, alley. Who knows. Anyways, that is not what this post is about. It is to let everyone know I am back, and horny as ever. I know I have an old story to finish, Brotherly Love, but I will be starting a new story. About a party girl, and things that go to far. I can't explain why I am in the mood for darker fantasy. For writing about humiliation, degradation, and objectification, a girl who goes to far and doesn't really care, but that is what I will be working on next. I will get back to Brotherly Love sometime...
But also, I will be changing the blog a bit. I am going to try experimenting with the pages system, see if I can put chain stories together, so they are easier to read together. We will see how that works out. I am not computer stupid, but not that great either, so it may end up a mess. Then again, messed can be fun. Hot, sticky, salty messes, on my tits, on my ass, on my face and in my mouth, in my pussy. Want to watch me swallow?
Anyways, so, a little heads up on what is coming, and sorry to frustrate, it is not intentional. It is just the consequence of enjoying stories written by someone with a few...focus problems...
Update: Yes, I have noticed the format is all messed up on some that I copied and pasted from another location. The EP copy/pastes are the worst -.-
I am trying to fix this...
Warned you it might be a little...messy...
More updates: Disappearing posts-some posts will be disappearing from the home page feed. They are still there, but will be hidden. These are the ones I have created a separate page for. The links to the original posts will be at the top of those pages, so the stories aren't gone, and the comments on those won't be gone either. They will just not clutter up the home page. I think I will eventually move all "story/experience" posts to their own page, so the home page will just be my whatever ramblings.
Anyways, let me know what you think of the changes in the comments.
Friday, September 4, 2015
Master-slave (Slave fantasy)
Here is a little one I wrote for someone. I think I am frustrating him, he doesn't seem to get what I write. Anyways, maybe my readers will here:
Master? Are you there?
Can you please help me master?
It is cold. It is dark.
I need you master.
I want to please you master.
Am I a good slave master?
Did I please you master?
I did what you told me.
I let all the boys use me.
They spanked me.
They whipped me.
They tied me to the bed and fucked me and fucked me and fucked me.
I was so sore by the end of it master.
They used my mouth master. Just like you said.
They used my pussy master. Just like you said.
They used my ass master. Just like you said.
So many master. I lost count. 10. 20. I don't know.
They fucked me soft master.
They fucked me hard master.
They used me once master.
They used me twice master.
They used me over and over and over again.
I don't know how long master.
1 hour.
2.
8.
A day.
Master? Are you there?
Can you please help me master?
It is cold. It is dark.
I need you master.
I want to please you master.
Am I a good slave master?
Did I please you master?
I did what you told me.
I let all the boys use me.
They spanked me.
They whipped me.
They tied me to the bed and fucked me and fucked me and fucked me.
I was so sore by the end of it master.
They used my mouth master. Just like you said.
They used my pussy master. Just like you said.
They used my ass master. Just like you said.
So many master. I lost count. 10. 20. I don't know.
They fucked me soft master.
They fucked me hard master.
They used me once master.
They used me twice master.
They used me over and over and over again.
I don't know how long master.
1 hour.
2.
8.
A day.
4.
10.
I lost track master.
I tried to please them all.
Some yelled at me master.
Some hit me master.
Some cussed at me master.
Some spit on me master.
I enjoyed it so master.
They walked me around naked master.
So many eyes, all over me master.
Seeing my most intimate parts.
They used me and used me and used me and used me.
I can still feel their cum inside me master.
In my stomach.
In my ass.
In my pussy.
In my hair.
On my skin.
Covered everywhere.
Dripping. Drying. Walking around, covered in their cum.
Was I good master?
I did like you asked.
10.
I lost track master.
I tried to please them all.
Some yelled at me master.
Some hit me master.
Some cussed at me master.
Some spit on me master.
I enjoyed it so master.
They walked me around naked master.
So many eyes, all over me master.
Seeing my most intimate parts.
They used me and used me and used me and used me.
I can still feel their cum inside me master.
In my stomach.
In my ass.
In my pussy.
In my hair.
On my skin.
Covered everywhere.
Dripping. Drying. Walking around, covered in their cum.
Was I good master?
I did like you asked.
Wednesday, September 2, 2015
The big game (Fantasy I wrote for someone)
Okay, here is a story I wrote for someone. I have been a bit moody lately, he put up with me, so I rewarded him.
"Hey, I am going to a party. Want to join?"
"Sure. It is boring here anyways."
I noticed one guy who kept leering at me. I could see his eyes checking me out.
A creepy feeling washed over me, but I ignored it.
The night continued, and I turned into the good little hostess, regardless of what I wanted. The men got louder, my husband and the others got drunker, and the one started to get a little...freer with his hands. Twice he tried to slip his hand up my dress. He tried to lift it. Kept trying to stare into my top.
Honestly, the guy creeped me out, but, I was annoyed. I wanted to slap my husband for not telling me before he asked if I wanted to join.
"Party" I snorted. The creepy guy heard me. He was handsome, but the way he kept looking at me, I wanted him gone.
"Hey, I am going to a party. Want to join?"
"Sure. It is boring here anyways."
I throw on one of my favorite dresses, some makeup, and we leave for the party.
We arrive, and I notice something strange. It seems it is all guys.
"Wait, I thought you said party?"
"Yeah, it is for the game tonight."
"Why didn't you tell me? I would have stayed home."
He knew how I hated these "game parties".
A bunch of men, yelling at the TV, and eating junk food.
I growled under my breath as we went in.
I looked around, and there were 10 guys, and no women.
Yeah, big surprise, that.
"Hey, great! Can you help us with the snacks?"
They looked directly at me. Like "Hey, it's a woman. She can serve us food."
It only made me more upset at my husband.
So, I did the "good little woman" thing, and started getting some snacks, beers out of the fridge, and passing them around.
I noticed one guy who kept leering at me. I could see his eyes checking me out.
A creepy feeling washed over me, but I ignored it.
The night continued, and I turned into the good little hostess, regardless of what I wanted. The men got louder, my husband and the others got drunker, and the one started to get a little...freer with his hands. Twice he tried to slip his hand up my dress. He tried to lift it. Kept trying to stare into my top.
Honestly, the guy creeped me out, but, I was annoyed. I wanted to slap my husband for not telling me before he asked if I wanted to join.
"Party" I snorted. The creepy guy heard me. He was handsome, but the way he kept looking at me, I wanted him gone.
But, he also gave me an idea on how to get revenge.
I whispered something in his ear, and he asked the creepy guy to leave.
"Thank you," I told him, and honored my end of the deal. He stood there, grinning like some silly school boy.
I slipped my panties off, being careful not to expose anything, and handed them to him. My husband's jaw dropped open, but he didn't say anything.
After that, I decided to have a drink or two myself. I might as well try to have some fun.
As the night wore on, I got a few looks, more curious than anything. Some of the guys did admire me, but it didn't make my skin crawl like the other guy.
As I drank, I noticed my legs were slightly parted.
That gave me another idea.
I shifted my dress up a bit and say there, legs spread wide.
One of the guys looked at me, and I knew from the angle he was at he saw more of me than he expected, sitting there, in a dress, legs spread.
I also knew he did because suddenly he was spitting and sputtering, as his drink went down the wrong way.
I smiled at him, and he smiled weakly at me, then turned away.
But, he could not seem to take his eyes off me out of the corner of his eye.
I whispered something in his ear, and he asked the creepy guy to leave.
"Thank you," I told him, and honored my end of the deal. He stood there, grinning like some silly school boy.
I slipped my panties off, being careful not to expose anything, and handed them to him. My husband's jaw dropped open, but he didn't say anything.
After that, I decided to have a drink or two myself. I might as well try to have some fun.
As the night wore on, I got a few looks, more curious than anything. Some of the guys did admire me, but it didn't make my skin crawl like the other guy.
As I drank, I noticed my legs were slightly parted.
That gave me another idea.
I shifted my dress up a bit and say there, legs spread wide.
One of the guys looked at me, and I knew from the angle he was at he saw more of me than he expected, sitting there, in a dress, legs spread.
I also knew he did because suddenly he was spitting and sputtering, as his drink went down the wrong way.
I smiled at him, and he smiled weakly at me, then turned away.
But, he could not seem to take his eyes off me out of the corner of his eye.
My husband was pretty much completely drunk by now, and many of the others were too, but not all. Some didn't seem to be drinking much.
I felt a bit tipsy myself. I was not used to drinking.
I grabbed my husband, and pulled him next to me.
He looked at my exposed legs, and put his hand on them.
"I didn't realize your dress was that short." He didn't even seem to realize I had pulled it up.
Tipsy, a bit mad at him, I pushed his hand further up. Poor him, he didn't realize it wasn't for him, it was for the others.
He didn't even think about everyone seeing his wife, just got caught up in the moment. His hand slipped up my leg, exposing my entire outer thigh.
From his angle, you couldn't see much, but I could see more eyes turning towards us. And many of those eyes could see more than my husband could.
Several of those eyes stayed on us.
I turned my head towards my husband, lips connecting, kissing him deeply. Don't get me wrong, I love my husband, but I am also a little irrational when I get angry. And can be very petty. When I get like that, I can take things a little too far.
I felt a bit tipsy myself. I was not used to drinking.
I grabbed my husband, and pulled him next to me.
He looked at my exposed legs, and put his hand on them.
"I didn't realize your dress was that short." He didn't even seem to realize I had pulled it up.
Tipsy, a bit mad at him, I pushed his hand further up. Poor him, he didn't realize it wasn't for him, it was for the others.
He didn't even think about everyone seeing his wife, just got caught up in the moment. His hand slipped up my leg, exposing my entire outer thigh.
From his angle, you couldn't see much, but I could see more eyes turning towards us. And many of those eyes could see more than my husband could.
Several of those eyes stayed on us.
I turned my head towards my husband, lips connecting, kissing him deeply. Don't get me wrong, I love my husband, but I am also a little irrational when I get angry. And can be very petty. When I get like that, I can take things a little too far.
Too drunk to really think about where he was, he got into the kiss. Soon, his hands were trying to explore my body. He grasped my breast through my dress, squeezing it slightly.
He also ran his hand over the top of my upper thigh, then towards the front. Feeling nothing there, except me, drove his lust higher. He no longer even thought about, and not even sure he remembered, the others around us. His hands pushed my dress up, fully exposing me.
I did not forget where we were, or who was around us though. I watched them, and their eyes, glued to my husband's hand meeting my naked pussy.
He pulled my legs apart, pushed his fingers inside me. I almost climaxed, doing this, here, in front of all these men.
His other hand went around behind my neck. Our lips still locked, our tongues still exploring, he fumbled around, trying to find the zipper.
No one said a word. The TV, the game, had become the only noise other than my husband's heavy breaths.
I reached over, stroking the front of his pants. He was finally erect. I wasn't completely sure he would be able to with how drunk he was.
I played around with the cloth, covering his penis. Played with the zipper. Finally, he found the clasp of my dress, undid it, started to try to unzip it.
I say try, because he wasn't doing that great. Fumbly fingers don't do well with dress zippers.
He tugged, and his fingers slipped. He found, and they slipped again.
I turned him sideways, hands on his knees, guiding him, so if he looked straight, he would not suddenly remember where he was.
Then, I stood up, dress settling back in place again, and kneeled on the couch in front of him.
I bent down, face in his lap, unzipping his pants with my teeth. Finally, they were down.
This let him get better access to the zipper in the back. Reaching over my head he was able to slowly get it down.
I pulled his underwear with my teeth, not wanting to use my hands. Why? I don't know, more challenge, and maybe I could match his pace, so I freed him while he freed me.
He got the zipper down, exposing my back, causing the front to fall forward slightly. The men watching got an eyeful of my breasts, at least from the side. I no longer watched them, but could feel them watching us.
I freed his penis before he could get the zipper over my hips. It might expose my top, but the dress was by no means free.
I took his penis in my mouth, sucking it, licking it working it in and out.
Playing with the head. Running my lips and tongue along the shaft.
Finally, he got the zipper all the way down. My dress now hung completely off from the top, not just a large gap exposing my breasts, but completely topless.
I was so wet already, and wanted to get to the next stage before he realized. I was still surprised he hadn't even noticed all the guys staring, but I didn't care.
I wanted them to watch.
No panties, dress already down, I moved his hands, stood up and kneeled on top of him. Leg between his leg and the cushion, other leg close to slipping off the other side completely, I lifted the dress up to access his penis.
I worked it inside me. He closed his eyes as I worked it, little by little, until he was deep inside.
I let the dress bundle atop us again.
I wanted them to see us having sex. I didn't want them to see me being penetrated.
I slowly started moving my hips, as I straddled him, top completely exposed, bottom hidden by the dress fallen around our groins.
I worked his penis, pulling myself off it, before pushing myself back on.
I closed my eyes as I felt him inside me, savoring it, wanting it.
I moved slowly, enjoying the sensation, enjoying the feeling of eyes upon me.
I saw a flash.
I opened my eyes, and reached over. The guy was so close I was able to grab the phone out of his hand.
He jumped back in surprise, and my other hand pushed my husband's face into my cleavage, between my breasts.
I gave the man a wicked smile and motioned him to come closer.
With one hand on my husband's head, shoving him into my cleavage, the other grabbed the guys hair as I pulled his ear to my mouth, guided by his long hair.
"I will keep your phone until I can delete the pictures. And tell the others if they take a picture of me, I will make sure they regret it."
He tried to sneer, and I pulled his hair harder.
"Next time," I whispered into his ear, "I will pull your sack instead, and squeeze. And you have a naked woman in this room, want to bet what you wife would say if I said you took part?"
He looked at his ring on his finger, and decided it would be best to not challenge me.
"Now be good and tell the others." I whispered to him.
I put my fingers to my lips to let them know to stay quiet, the whole time still moving my hips slowly.
But, I could also feel him getting soft. The alcohol and not enough stimulation wasn't helping.
He quietly told the others, and they kept their phones to themselves.
I let my husband pull his head back finally, and bent my neck down to kiss him deeply.
I moved my hips faster, faster, speeding up, stopping. He stiffened up again, and I rode him. I savored him. I savored their eyes.
I could feel my pussy tighten around him, could feel him respond.
I climaxed, causing my pussy to squeeze him, his penis suddenly cumming deep inside of me.
He lay back, closing his eyes. Soon, he was passed out.
I zipped up my dress, got everyone more drinks and snacks, and let them continue watching the game.
"I wonder how much my husband will remember in the morning?"
Tuesday, June 9, 2015
Subway groping
So, this is a random thought I have been having recently.
I will write a little more on this later, I have some writing ideas for it, but I wanted you ladies and gentlemen to give me some feedback.
I have seen more than one of those videos where someone starts groping a woman.
Is it wrong of me to...well...want it to happen to me? Maybe the society I currently live in is too polite. I mean, I have had people touch me before. Brush against my breast. Brush against my ass. You know, the stick out parts. But, I have never had anyone actually try to grope me.
Not that I want to be groped every time I get on a crowded train. But, I want to see what it is like.
Out there. In public. Lots of people around. A stranger starts touching you. Here. There. Yum.
Anyways, what do I want from my readers? Two things.
First, tell me your thoughts. Is something wrong with me? Yes, probably, but I still want to know your thoughts.
Second, for those of you who are writing inclined, I want you to tell me about it. You can do it in the comments if you want, but it is limited to about 4000 words (I looked it up, and don't remember). Or, email me the story. I want to see what you would do.
But, here is another added caveat. Make me believe it. Show me exactly where you would go, or stop. Write it as you would really do it, if you had me, there, in front of you. Just standing there, on the crowded train, and you are behind me. Or in front of me. I want to be able to believe it.
I mean, would you really go very far, when you know others are around? Would you just squeeze and play a little, or would you try to slide my panties down my legs? Remember, in real life, there can be...consequences.
Why do I want it believable? Well, because of one thing. If someone can turn me on, and make me want it. And, if you come to come here at some point. Well, I will make arrangements, to take a certain MRT, at a certain time, in a certain car. And, well, maybe you will be there. Not in a story. But in real life.
Is this an honest offer? Yes. I would make sure you knew what I looked like, how to find me. Everything. But. Only to someone who can make me want it, see it, know that I would be safe from consequences. But, before you get your hands ready and in motion, remember, there are real people, with real eyes, and posters all over the MRT that tell to report, that reminds everyone of the phone numbers. So, how would we not get caught?
Hmm, I guess I will leave all this to anyone willing to either write it in the comments, or put it in my naughty box (dirtylittlemestorytime@gmail.com)
No worries, I will write a nice, sensual story, either in my own comments, or in another post (After all, I still need to make up for my horrible good girl post).
I will write a little more on this later, I have some writing ideas for it, but I wanted you ladies and gentlemen to give me some feedback.
I have seen more than one of those videos where someone starts groping a woman.
Is it wrong of me to...well...want it to happen to me? Maybe the society I currently live in is too polite. I mean, I have had people touch me before. Brush against my breast. Brush against my ass. You know, the stick out parts. But, I have never had anyone actually try to grope me.
Not that I want to be groped every time I get on a crowded train. But, I want to see what it is like.
Out there. In public. Lots of people around. A stranger starts touching you. Here. There. Yum.
Anyways, what do I want from my readers? Two things.
First, tell me your thoughts. Is something wrong with me? Yes, probably, but I still want to know your thoughts.
Second, for those of you who are writing inclined, I want you to tell me about it. You can do it in the comments if you want, but it is limited to about 4000 words (I looked it up, and don't remember). Or, email me the story. I want to see what you would do.
But, here is another added caveat. Make me believe it. Show me exactly where you would go, or stop. Write it as you would really do it, if you had me, there, in front of you. Just standing there, on the crowded train, and you are behind me. Or in front of me. I want to be able to believe it.
I mean, would you really go very far, when you know others are around? Would you just squeeze and play a little, or would you try to slide my panties down my legs? Remember, in real life, there can be...consequences.
Why do I want it believable? Well, because of one thing. If someone can turn me on, and make me want it. And, if you come to come here at some point. Well, I will make arrangements, to take a certain MRT, at a certain time, in a certain car. And, well, maybe you will be there. Not in a story. But in real life.
Is this an honest offer? Yes. I would make sure you knew what I looked like, how to find me. Everything. But. Only to someone who can make me want it, see it, know that I would be safe from consequences. But, before you get your hands ready and in motion, remember, there are real people, with real eyes, and posters all over the MRT that tell to report, that reminds everyone of the phone numbers. So, how would we not get caught?
Hmm, I guess I will leave all this to anyone willing to either write it in the comments, or put it in my naughty box (dirtylittlemestorytime@gmail.com)
No worries, I will write a nice, sensual story, either in my own comments, or in another post (After all, I still need to make up for my horrible good girl post).
But, after all, there are lots of fantasies. And I doubt very well that someone would want to come all this way just to feel me up (Remember, I will not go that far with anyone other than my husband. So, you would only get so far).
So, you can also tell me what you would do to me in a world where you can do anything without any consequences. Or something in between.
Your story. It is up to you.
PS. Please also mention if I can use your story for new stories. Either by changing it, or posting it directly. Remember, I will give you credit, even if I re-write it (So I would also need to know how to give you credit, via a nickname, your email address, or whatever). So please let me know, just in case, what you would like me to do with the story.
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