Indecipherable Scrawlings

She trembled slightly as the gentle breeze skittered across her skin.  The sun kissing pale stretches normally denied to it as my hands roamed freely.  My exploration interrupted occasionally by having to return to her chin to pull her face up to look at me and not down the rutted track to the distant sounds of traffic.  She was nervous about that, I was aware but less nervous at the possibility of someone trying their luck on a random logging road on Sunday afternoon.  Besides it wasn't like we didn't have an audience already.

Leaning down I kissed her.  My mouth hungry, tongue aggressive.  My hands became firmer in their exploration.  Grabbing, pinching, testing and feeling the resulting moans against my kiss.  Her hands came for my belt but I grabbed the wrists and pulled them up holding them behind her head with one hand so I could step back and enjoy the effect of the position on her posture.  My other hand pushing firmly down her stomach, fingers curling amongst her unkempt but silken bush.  There was no more looking around as she thrust her hips towards me aside from a single glance away on my part.

I lifted her and her legs wrapped around me while we went the few steps to the hood of the car.  I was more nervous now and not only of tripping, but being watched wasn't normally my thing.  Still as I laid her out onto the blanket, spreading her open, seeing her reveling in being exposed.  Seeing her glistening excitement reflected in the suns hot kiss.  I stopped worrying and undid my belt.

She was eager, panting for this part but I held her firmly in place.  Enjoying teasing her.  Running my cock along her slit, letting my head bump a sensitive clit.  Forcing her to do more than moan.  Asking her what she wanted.  Pretending not to hear the mumbled response.  Asking again as I smacked my meat into her juicy pussy.

"Fuck me!"  She screamed, the last shreds of restraint vanishing.

I obliged her.  One hard thrust burying me in her.  My hands digging into her hips as I pounded her.  Yanking her back and forth to meet my thrusts.  Growling my appreciation of her pussy.  Managing a smirk as I described fucking her like a living toy.  Feeling her quiver around me in response.  Her body going limp.  Letting me use it as she lost herself in the breeze, sun and pleasure.  Till I felt her spasm and convulse around my invading cock, her back trying to arch against my restraining grip.

I pushed through it.  Doing my best not to bite my lip.  Disguising the effort it took not to lose control.  Didn't want to disappoint the audience after all.

To a constant chorus of "Fuck" she wrapped her legs around me.  Trying to trap me, trying to push me out, enjoying every second.  Feeling me swell inside her.  Moaning as I buried myself fully.  Gasping as I stood up, pulling her up with me.  Letting her back arch, her head roll back.  Feeling her cum again as I exploded into her, and her husband stared into her eyes from the driver's seat.

So my friend was woken up by a plumber looking to lay some pipe in her apartment.  Then the landlord showed up to collect on the rent.  Finally an actual pizza boy came looking for his tip.

All these things really happen.  Not one became a hot steamy sex scene despite the clear porno potential.  Somehow this leave me feeling cheated by reality.

A friend and I were discussing time travel and decided that instead of waisting it's potential murdering Austrian painters or giving our younger selves the winning lottery numbers it should be used for something truly important.  Going back to bang the kinkiest historical figures.

My pick was Cathrine the Great of Russia in 1765, preferably with a couple of her ladies in waiting at the same time.

Anyone else have a pick?

The wood was smooth and still warm from the sander as I admired my work.  It had come together rather well I thought to myself.  The edges of the board sanded away to form a perfect crescent that stood just tall enough.  There was no wiggle room, no gap.  Kneeling brought her weight down onto the wood, settling it deep into her slit.  The only relief the rope harness that encircled her breasts, snugly wrapped her shoulders, and twisted around the cuffs securing her arms behind her head before being tied off to the rafters high above.

It was a wonderful sight.  Harness and position made her throw out her chest.  Proudly displaying herself as she reveled in my hungry attention.  Both of us enjoying the play of the sun across her skin, how the breeze drifting in from the open doors licked at her glistening excitement.  Trapped, vulnerable, completely exposed to anything lurking in the shadowed woods yet for her it was unfettered freedom.  Being able to fully indulge in those desires normally kept under wrap, to enjoy the darker pleasures, and express herself...loudly.

The first moan came as the leather cords caressed their way down her back.  Slowly dragging themselves over her shoulder as I circled her, letting her see the whip.  Kissing her skin.  Exploring.  Testing.

The next moan was almost disappointed.  The whip barely thudding as it lifted and dropped back down across her back.  Still she dutifully counted, "One"

"Two"  Tickled across her belly.

"Three" Playfully smacked her butt.

"Four" Raced from thigh to armpit

"Five" Clipped a breast

And on it went.  Each number accompanied by leather striking flesh.  The thud giving away to a crack.  My arm slowly joining my wrist as I continued to circle.  Continued to admire my work.  The red lines coming faster, lasting longer, creating new patterns.  Each crack moving her.  Flinching from one blow into the next.  The tiny slack only allowing her hips to shift along the wood.  Soft, warm wood sliding beneath glistening flesh.  The pressure and slight friction growing in time with the whip's movements.

"Thirty" Was nearly lost in a reverent scream as I drew leather harshly across her tits.

Her hips ground on there own now.  Needing the added sensation.  Reveling in it.  Losing herself in the count, willing it to got higher.  Gasping as my hand closes around her throat.  Bodily lifting her the roughly wrapped handle of the whip replaces the smooth wood as I push it through her slit.  Literally floating my growl roars into her mind.  One word, "Cum."

So in my college dorm the campus police would do foot patrols.  You know walk around make sure we weren't burning the place down or performing human sacrifice outside the designated creepy space in the basement.  Normally a fairly boring task.  Until one day the officer on patrol heard a distressed female voice screaming out literally as he passed the door.

He quiet clearly heard, "No!"

"Don't!"

"Stop!"

So he drew his weapon and Spartan kicked the fucking door open.  I was outside at the time so didn't see this, but did get curious as squad cars came speeding in.  Officers went running in.  A few minutes later they came out shaking their heads and I was confused.  It wasn't until a little while later my friend and his girlfriend came out I heard what happened.

They had been getting it on.  Lost in their own world of carnal pleasure.  She had been so close, desperately trying to encourage her lover.  Telling him, "No, don't stop."

The kitchen gleamed beneath the constant glare of the overhead lights and sunlight gently streaming through the windows.  No place for shadows, no way to overlook any imperfections, no place to hide.  Something she was acutely aware of as she stood naked in the middle of it all.

Technically she was not completely naked.  Tall black high heels protected her feet from the chilly tiles, heavy black cuffs linked her wrists, a blindfold kept out the light but not the knowledge she was completely exposed, and a plug buzzed away happily in her ass.  But such scant coverings did nothing to lessen the feeling of complete exposure as she stood with feet wide apart, bent slightly forward for her hands to rest on the tabletop.  It was a view I greedily devoured.  Drinking in her curves, the gentle flush of her skin, the sway of her hips in response to the vibrating plug.  Seeing the nervous finger tapping, noting how it warred with her obvious excitement and gleaming anticipation.

She yelped.  Only fair as I grabbed the chain of her cuffs and yanked them forward without warning.  In one hard tug I pulled her onto the table, securing the cuffs in just the right spot so her legs could almost support her but lacked the reach to be properly planted.  Gingerly I reached out to stroke her hair and at first she flinched away.  She knew it was me, but since I was silent she could not know it was me.  Offering reassurance with one hand I used the other to slowly fill her mouth with her own panties, my hands temporarily working at cross purposes.

Walking slowly around her I fight down the urge to simply skip to the end.  My self control straining as my fingers first brush her pussy, so very wet and inviting, ghosting down her outer lips.  She does her best to open herself for me, knowing what we both want.  It takes a moment for me to remember that it is not simply animal lust, but control.  The kind of control that allows her to simply exist in a moment without worries.  The kind of control that allows her to feel only the sensations I desire.  The kind of control that lets me take my idle fantasies and force reality to conform to them.  Allowing us to share a singularly perfect moment.  But to get there today we'll have to cool off a little.

My first step in that direction, was actually not.  The plastic might have been cool to the touch but warmed as the dildo slid effortlessly into her.  I gently worked it in and out, feeling her react.  The squeezing as she tries to keep it inside her, the little motions of her hips as she tries to rock back into my thrusts, the trembling as the buzzing plug pushes down on this new interloper and makes them hum.  Every thrust pushing her closer to a cliff already crumbling beneath her toes.  Without warning I pull out and before she has a chance to appreciate that I push a little ice ball into her.  The dildo forces the sphere of cold deep into her burning pussy, and her body convulses around it.  She is just beginning her muffled scream as the second ice ball slides in.  It and the third's passage eased considerably by a trickle of ice water flowing out and down a leg suddenly awash in goosebumps.  Holding the three balls in place with the dildo I use my feet and hands to stop her from reacting.  Making her stay still as fire and ice war within her.  Forcing her to feel it all.

It is only as the cold's seeping numbness begins to dull the sensation that she begins to truly relax.  It is then my hand swings down.  The resounding thud covers any noise she might have made.  My other hand swings up from the bottom.  The first comes back in from the side.  Speed, force, direction all different.  Never letting her settle.  The angry red imprint of my hand blossoming over her still swaying ass.

Alternating hands not only on her but on the dildo I feel the resistance lessen.  She is too needy, the situation too hot for the ice to hold out long against her fire.  One final stinging spank and I push myself into her.  Straight into bliss.  Her heat quavers around me, mixing with the last lingering ice swirls and the resounding vibrations through her thin walls to massage my entire length.  Sliding my hands up along her back I savor this second.  And the next as my fingers rake back down.  My hips slamming against hers as I urgently fill her.  The soft flesh of her hips yielding beneath my iron grip.  Muffled moans and hungry growls filling the bright kitchen.  A fitting soundtrack for the wanton display as we thunder towards the edge.

There is one final, savage growl as bodily flip her onto the table and her back.  My hand finding her ankles.  My thrusts returning as forceful as before.  Even as I finally plunge over the edge myself.

Really I was just looking to get up.  Morning are a time to get up and begin anew, regretfully.  I just wanted to get up, brush my teeth, and wash away the traces of last night's activities that had left me drifting off to sleep still panting for air.  Make myself vaguely presentable before engaging in morning's only redeeming feature, having breakfast.  But I couldn't because my arm was trapped.

Admittedly trapped in the best way possible.  By a beautiful women sprawling across it, displaying the wonderful color coming into my marks to a literally captured audience.  Still I wasn't impatient and had some experience surreptitiously withdrawing without waking someone else.  But I was not having any luck, my arm was stuck fast.  It it was only as I flexed some feeling back into the dull but prickly limb that I felt it.  A grip around my wrist.  A certain ironic indignation stirred in me as I pulled a little harder.  The grip tightened as she shifted seemingly innocently in her sleep to increase the weight on my arm.  But I would not be denied my bacon.

The next determined tug pulled the arm, the hand gripping it, and the girl tumbling towards me.  Squawking and flailing she was rolled beneath me.  I found her wrists and dragged them back, pinning them behind her.  The squawking turning to moans as I ground my hip into an ass angry with fresh bruises.  One quick shove silenced her by the simple expedient of forcing her head into the mattress, but brought her ass higher.  And all the sudden I was up with no interest of getting out of bed.  Or patience.

I slammed my hip into her, slapping my cock into her exposed and tender pussy.  Again and again.  Drawing my length through her slit only to slap it back.  But the morning is no time for foreplay and I felt only hunger.  I slammed into her.  Forcing myself deep even as she screamed out my welcome.

Then my fingers were digging deep into her hips.  Holding her in place with cruel strength as I hammered down.  Giving in completely to the roaring need within me.  The hunger.  The desire.  The sheer madness as I used her.  Slamming away as my growls joined her debauched cries to shatter the morning's silence.  Till with one last throaty cry I burst and collapsed.

After the pounding in my ears receded I became aware of her bemused grin poking out of disheveled hair.  Also that she was speaking, "So how about breakfast?"

Still panting I grinned back, and reached down to gently stroke the hair from her face, "Shower first."

And with those words I grabbed a fistful of hair and began pulling her along for another attempt at starting the morning.

I was prompted to write this and I think it turned out well so I decided I'd share it here.  If you're not comfortable with CNC I'd probably stop reading after this bad joke.  There are 10 kinds of people in the world, those that know binary and those who don't.

You wake up, but are not ever sure of that. There is no light, no sound, only the pounding of your heart. Your body is week, numb, cold. For a terrifying moment you think you might be dead and are plunged into nothingness. It's only the taste of rubber separating sore jaws and gagging you that provides any hint of sensation and shows it might not be over.

The thousands of prickling daggers shooting into you as ice water splashes over you makes you regret that. The thought you had been cold before vanishes as you begin to feebly shiver. Any hope that might warm you vanishes as your tits are plunged into water that burns before stabbing icicles into you.

Your trembling gradually makes you more aware of your body. Hunched together over a plastic tub slowly cutting it to your neck and thighs as it fills with icy water. Heavy chains hold you together, but they too are frozen. It seems there is no warm in the world.

Until you feel a hot rob threatening to split you open. Stabbing into you. One massive thrust to bury it in your cold body. You try to scream but there is no sound. An attempt to move is met by a hard blow raking along your back. You are trapped, helpless and worst of all thankfully. You cling to the warmth, desperately trying to hold it in you. Ache when it leaves. Rejoice at each hard hammering thrust.

And they go on and on. Time ceases to have any meaning. There is only that hard, unceasing jackhammering. It swells inside you. Throbbing. Filling you. Until it burst, flooding you with heat as you mind blanks with pleasure.

A little while later you begin to stir. It's hard as warmth envelopes you in a cocoon of softness. Blankets are piled on after the other atop you, pushing you down into the hospital bed. The room is bright and filled with sounds. You make some feeble noise and attract the attention of the nurse.

They're worried. They say you had a bad reaction to the anesthesia, went into shock. That you've been in the ICU for a whole day.

But you know that's not true. You can still feel the warmth oozing inside you.

The funny thing about languages and seemingly English in particular is the propensity for the definition of a word to shift over time.  Normally this manifest in wonder what the hell some guy a hundred years is talking about but it's not all bad.

For example at one point calling someone a slutty slut wouldn't just demonstrate a lack of creativity.  It would instead accurately describe a slovenly person of loose morals.

Also fun to say

"Yes but there is something to be said for dragging her physically to the bedroom.  Sets the tone.  Let's her know that can struggle and thrash all she wants, but you will simply overwhelm her.  That in the end she will end up where you want and you will have your way with her."

It was at this point I realized the waitress had arrived...