Indecipherable Scrawlings

Her entire body trembles as I slam into her.  Reckless.  Wild.  The hammering of her heart pushing feebly against my ever tightening grip.  She matches my squeeze with her own that demands I go deeper.  Each second leaves the carefully controlled frenzy a little less controlled.  She's helpless and overwhelmed, gasping for each sip of air I allow her.  I grow in pleasure and satisfaction as I take my prey, leaning over her and bearing down with all my strength.

My growl fills her ear, one resounding question, "Do you want to cum slut?"

"Yes..."  Is the ghost of a whisper that I cut off in quivering anticipation.

"I can't hear you."  I snarl my teeth taking my hands place on her neck.

"YES DADDY!"  She pleads in an ear piercing scream.

"I said the doors locked and you need to let me in."  Another voice drifts in from the window.

In times of stress I find the familiarity of routine soothing.  Checking all the various things I need to go out.  Just the basics; wallet, cellphone, keys, stove off, and sub on leash.

She's nervous, fidgeting.  Hands flinching as instinct tells her to cover her nakedness while the three angry red lines across her bum remind her not to.  Her eyes meet mine and for a second I feel her nervousness call to mine.  After all some annoyingly rational and mundane voice in my head is repeating that there are no innocent explanation for walking a naked girl on a leash.  Tamping down such thoughts, gnawing fears isn't easy but I do it.  I have to.  One slip and my resolve will break and dash the hopeful expectation creeping into her shy smile.  So I force confidence into my own smile and hand her the bag.  Her hands settle as she holds her clothing, toys, and everything else she needs for a weekend away in front of her.

My sweaty palms tighten on the coarse leather of the leash and I open the door.  Brilliant shafts of light dance about an open and perfectly manicured lawn.  Fifty feet of open ground between stoop and curb.  Breeze and sunlight playing across my sub's skin, making her normal tan lines stand out all the more as I pull her to a stop.  Resisting the impulse to rush I close and lock the door, stealing glances at her all the while.  Now my impish side is acting up, pushing away the earlier nerves with the sheer thrill of what we're doing.

My pace away from the door is careful.  Steady.  Completely unhurried.  The leash is slack, but she doesn't run into me.  For a moment we simply bask in the glory of a resplendent day.  At the curb I politely open the door for her, tempting her cover.  A sharp tug on the leash stops her bolting like a rabbit back down its hole.

Instead she looks up at the hawk and smiles, "Please sir, may I get in."

I smile and toss the leash inside.  She hits the seat before it does.  I take the bag from her, put it in the back and climb into the driver's seat.  The doors close and our nervous laughter fill the air.  Somehow my hand doesn't shake as I give her a reassuring squeeze on the knee.

"That was fun."  I chuckle.

"Fun?"  She scoffs shivering from my touch and nerves, "Terrifying.  What if the neighbors had seen?"

"They didn't."  I said confidently my hand sliding along her leg, "And I know you enjoyed that.  I can feel the proof..."

In pre-Elizabethan England it was held that any woman who wore just her shift to her wedding would not take her debts into marriage.  Probably because any woman confident enough to strut nearly naked into church before her friends, family and religious leader is not likely to be cowed by debt collectors.  Or because any woman willing to demonstrate so publicly that she can't afford a dress should be forgiven.

Regardless it is a lovely tradition, but don't be like my friend and suggest bringing it back to his fiance...

Life is short so tell those that matter you love them.

Life is also terrifying and confusing so scream it at them in German.

"Honey, can you set up a train for me?"

"Of course, I'd love to baby."

"That's great, I'll leave the box out on the counter.  He'll be so happy when he comes down in the morning."

"Oh yes, the model train set...totally what I was thinking about too."

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."