Wicked Writer Blog

I'm a very possessive person. My first experience in the lifestyle was nothing more than being a cock used to pleasure another man's woman. This is during the early stages of my journey. I was just looking for any opportunity to explore. And explore I did.

As I came into my own and started to really put the pieces of myself together, I found my control on my sexuality tightening. I found I no longer had the desire to be seen and to provide entertainment and arousal for others. I began to understand the dynamic, and for me that dynamic tended to be a very personal and private experience.

Even as I found my own path, I remained curious about how others approach their own sexuality. I'm fascinated by what drives and motivates them to do what they do. An endless menagerie of kinks, fetishes, and possibilities.

So, a couple of years ago when I received a harmless message from a new submissive on Fetlife, I took the opportunity to delve into the depths of what made her tick. I was surprised to find out, that she wasn't seeking a Dom for herself, but ideally for her and her boyfriend. She wanted it to be a surprise. While I appreciated her effort, the practicality of a surprise Dom was not a good idea at all. So, I told her the first step she needed to take was to talk to her boyfriend. She promised she would, and in the mean time I agreed to answer whatever questions she had about the lifestyle.

I didn't hear from her for a couple weeks. Which isn't uncommon. You get messages and the sender may be red hot to get it on, but once you douse a little water on them, the flames go out. You never hear from them again. This is what I expected.

Late one Saturday night, I get a message from her. She tells me she has spoken to her boyfriend, he had his first bi experience and he wants to take it the next step. I explained her to her that I wasn't bi, that I could give advice and such, but I wouldn't play.

"That's okay," she had said. "You can play with me."

Through Kik we started to discussing particulars. I could sense an ebbing flow of uncertainty just beneath this almost forced excitement. Several times, I expressed my doubts, explained that he might get jealous. She shrugged it off and insisted it's what he wanted. He wanted her to be used by another man, whether he was involved or not.

Part of me thought I should decline, I started getting the same vibe I had early on when I was attending parties and such. It really highlighted my desire to feel like I really own the s-type I'm with. It's that need for me that led me to the lifestyle and not a typical All-American Vanilla relationship complete with two kids, a SUV, and a loud ass barking dog.

Finally, I agreed. I dictated that it would be a "play session." She would be mine when she came to my house. No interference from the boyfriend. We agreed the session would be videoed and bareback. She stipulated that she be came in. I agreed.

The last order of business was to set a date. With the way things feel, it turned out to be Xmas Eve night.

The day of, I was a little nervous. First meets are always a little nerve wracking and this one was a little rushed because of the holiday schedule and such. Nothing that day was going as it should. I had been baking and that took way longer than I had expected. I finished up just in time to get a shower.

Jenny was punctual. She arrived right at 6. The last remnants of the day was being squeezed from the sky. Jenny had parked little ways back from where I had told her. So, I couldn't get a good look at her when she was walking up.

"I'm here," she said as stepped from the dark into the perimeter of light put out by the porch light.

"Let me see you," I ordered.

Jenny hesitated a moment, then sort of flung her arms up and spun around.

When she had asked what she should wear I told her something easily accessible. Her choice had been a long blue dress and a pair of leather sandals.

"What are you here for?" I asked.

"Whatever you want," she offered as she closed the distance and stood feet from me.

I looked her over and there was unease in her face. She was a heavier set than the pictures she had sent me indicated. Her face was more weathered as well. Age carved crevasses extended above her brow. She knew she was being inspected. I lifted my hand upwards, and in turn she lifted the dress so I could see underneath. She hadn't worn panties.

"Easy access," she had offered followed by an almost girlish giggle. I could sense she was nervous. Her knees wobbled just a bit, could have been the nerves or the hint of cold in the air.

I took her hand and pulled the dress from her. I hiked up higher and pushed her gently towards the wall. She stepped forward and I leaned into her pressing her naked flesh into the metal sheeting just beneath the porch light. She exhaled.

I could feel her quivering slightly. She stood half a foot shorter than me. My 6'3 frame kept her pinned against the wall and the quivering was soon replaced with full on shaking.

"Scared?" I asked.

She shook her head.

"Tell me again," I said as I put my left hand firmly on her ass. "What are you here for?"

"Whatever," she started. "You want."

In a quick motion I licked my fingers and then pushed my cock halfway inside her. Just enough so that she knew I was there. She exhaled sharply and dropped down. I pushed my body harder into her to steady her.

"You ever had a guy in you this soon after meeting?"

She shook her head.

"How's it feel?"

"Good," she stammered.

I pulled out just as quickly as I had put it in.

"Clean it off," I directed.

Jenny didn't miss a beat she knew exactly what to do. She dropped to her knees and began using her mouth to clean off the precum and vaginal fluids off of my cock.

After a few moment's I motioned for her to get up and to come inside.

"Leave your clothes outside," I ordered.

We made our way to the back bedroom. She stopped when she entered my room. Here eyes widened at the sight. Thought she was still processing the emotions, I knew them to be a healthy dose of fear, intimidation, and excitement.

She smiled.

"You're going to fuck me there?" she asked using her head to motion to the foot of the bed where I had fashioned two chains to either corner.

"You said whatever, right?" I asked as I pulled a blindfold from my kink trunk.

She smiled.

Shock and awe is the saying right? I had intentionally rigged things in a such a way to draw her immediate attention to them. I wanted the thoughts of the bindings and such to permeate her mind, to completely consume it. I wanted her to fixate on that particular act so that anything else would be mundane. It worked.

Jenny was much more engaging in the bedroom. Her nerves had settled and she was much looser. I had sat down on my couch, and nodded to her. Like clockwork she new what was expected. She was quick with the buttons on my jeans and yanked them down with a girlish enthusiasm. She licked the tip and toyed with it for several seconds before running her tongue down the shaft. She came back up it then took the top half into her mouth. She worked up and down before having to brush her shoulder length brown hair back. I reached over and bunched the hair behind her head and applied increasing pressure, pushing her farther down my dick.

She took most of it, but soon gagged.

"It's thick," she said as she looked up.

It was one of the first times she had actually looked me in the eyes. I could see red rings and tears had formed. Had she worn mascara it would most assuredly been running. There was unspoken beauty to her. A gentle smile that lit up her green eyes. Her eyes told her story. Each chapter of her life etched in their confines. She had been a hard worker. Cried too often, likely away from prying eyes. Yet there was a strength there as well. Like she could never be broken, at least if she didn't want to be.

I liked the idea of breaking her. Pushing her and exploring her. I already knew from talking to her, that I had pushed her far beyond what she had experienced in her 20 year failed marriage.

"Another life," she had said.

Now she wanted to live and she wanted to explore. She liked the idea of being bad she had said. Being used, but used by someone worthy. I think she had enough of being used by the unworthy.

"You wanted to be broken?" I asked in a low deliberate voice.

With a mouth full of cock she nodded, then stopped and pulled me from her mouth.

"I do, Sir."

It was the first time she had used Sir. It was more in a respectful manner than part of some greater understanding between us. I understood however what it meant, it meant she was a natural. She liked having my dick in her mouth and being given directions. I was almost sad she wasn't truly mine.

"Jenny?" I asked.

"Yes sir?" she said as she looked up. There was a determination in her eyes that I could see that was building with each moment. Perhaps it was recognition or comfort, so I decided to press things further.

"How dirty are you?" I asked.

"As dirty as you want me to be," she responded without hesitation.

I nodded back to my dick and with my hand still grasping a ball of her hair, I guided her back down to my dick. I maneuvered her head up and down several times, before gently guiding it back up the shaft one final time and then to the side of my dick.

"Lick it," I ordered.

She stuck her tongue out and I guided it back down to my balls. Her soft focused licks shifted to large circular swaths. Her eyes looked up and met mine. I smiled and then guided her head lower and beneath the balls, loosening my grip and placing my hand on the top of her head. I dipped my hips down and lifted my knees up, Jenny didn't miss a beat and went to work.

Her tongue circled the permimeter of my asshole, before I offered a slight nudge. She dug deeper and even repositioned herself to get a better angle.

"You are a dirty girl," I offered.

She nodded her agreement without breaking the rhythm.

"You ever do this this for your boyfriend or husband?" I asked.

She shook her head.

"You just like eating strangers' ass," I said.

Jenny's pace slowed to a crawl. I could see the wheels in her head spinning. She pull back, composed herself for a moment.

"I like yours," she offered before letting slip a sheepish smile.

"Get back to it then," I demanded.

I let Jenny work a while. I jerked in unison with her tongues probing. I was close to climax when I grabbed her head.

"Bed," I ordered. Jenny complied.

It took me several moments to get her rigged and blindfolded. I pulled out the camera and placed it in a strategic spot with a clear vantage of what was going on.

"You got the camera?" she asked.

"I do."

I had placed Jenny's ankles in restraints and then attached a chain that was connected to the high railings of my bed frame. Her legs were suspended in the shape of V and her ass hung off my bed maybe a foot so that I had access. She was completely exposed, and I think she felt every second of it. I threw the blindfold onto her bare stomach and she immediately put it on.

"You're going to have the desire to take the blindfold off," I said, "don't."

"Why don't you..." she started.

"bind them..." I finished.

She nodded.

"I don't want to." I responded. "My direction should be good enough."

I rubbed her clit a few times to stimulate it, then I followed up with a few smacks on her ass. Even slight slaps left whelps, and I was sure her boyfriend would enjoy seeing them.

"You ever been fucked in the ass?" I asked.

Jenny shook her head.

I pulled a black latex glove from my kink box. Jenny heard the commotion and she started to reach up to remove the blind fold but stopped. She was following direction.

"Good girl," I offered.

She smiled.

After pulling on the latex glove I lubed up two fingers and then used them to caress her anus. I pushed gently at first then prodded a little deeper.

"Are you going to cum in my ass?" she asked.

"Your stipulation is inside right?"

She hesitated and then nodded.

"Is there something I should know?"

She was quiet.

I pushed the two fingers inside. She breathed deep yet remained quiet.

For this moment I knew she was mine. I knew there was something to her stipulation. I knew that she had anticipated for me to cum inside her vagina. Yet, she wouldn't bring it up now. She was completely in the moment, but a deal is a deal. I keep my word.

I shifted between her legs. Jenny wiggled in anticipation, readying herself for an anal assault. I peeled the glove off and threw it on her chest. She reeled from the surprise. I stepped up and put my arms around her elevated legs to steady her. I thrust balls deep into her. She screamed as I rocked back and forth, my cock entering and leaving her in a repetitive pattern. I felt her tense up, and go wet. I slid my arms lower down her legs to get better leverage. In and out. In and out. When my load ripped into her, she smiled and then started to giggle.

I eased out and then walked around the side of the bed.

"Clean it."

Jenny opened her mouth and searched for it. I guided into her mouth and she took it all before bringing her hand up to squeeze what little cum remained.

I removed the blindfold so that I could see her eyes once again. They were glossy and content.

"I think he'll be happy," she said.

"You think?"

"He damned well better be," she laughed. "I ate ass for his ass."

I had moved back to the foot of the bed and began to unshackle her feet. I looked at her. Her eyes met mine.

"For him or for you," I questioned.

Her brow furrowed as she thought about the question and what it meant. She was quiet as I pulled the bindings down.

"I liked it," she offered.

"So, tell me what's the plan now?" I asked.

"I think you know," she countered.

"Christmas dinner?" I said.

Jenny smiled. Her face got serious.

"Is it bad that I liked it?"

I shook my head.

The sense of the moment had passed. Jenny sat on the foot of the bed, she used her arms to try and cover as much of herself as she could. The exposure had her feeling unsettled.

I gave her a towel to wipe off with and once done she wrapped it around herself.

"No," I said. I pulled the towel from her.

A puzzled look crossed her face and her eyes narrowed.

"You're still mine," I said. I lingered over her. My 6'3 frame cast a shadow across her. She felt small. I could see it in her eyes.

"You ate my ass remember?"

A smile creased her face and the unease disappeared.

"That was my Christmas dinner," she joked.

"And now you have to go give your boyfriend his."

The room was dark and just beyond the periphery of light that encircled me I could see silhouettes and hear a low murmur of chatter. I was nervous. I never liked being on display, and had it not been for the Xanax coursing its way through my system I wouldn’t have had the nerve to stand there naked in front of such an unseen audience.

I contemplated my situation, the events that had led me here. My thoughts were soon interrupted as a hush came over the crowd and I could sense something was going on off in the deep recesses of the room. I could see the shifting mass of shadow part. A lone figure stepped into the light. The figure was small in stature, she was thin but lean. Her breasts were small pointed mounds that offered no movement as she stepped further into the lighted circle. She was completely nude save for an intricate white mask that covered her face. The woman was flanked by two other women, both nude, and each taller and more proportioned.

One of the taller women removed the mask, exposing the face of a young woman. Though I was standing five feet from her, I could feel a shift in the air. I could feel her nervousness, only she didn’t have the luxury of medicinal aids like I did. The woman’s eyes were small and narrow, her features were slim and regal. She looked like a queen; her hair done up into a blackened knot that was held together by a platinum circlet atop her head. She looked like a Snow White doll.

In the moment they revealed her, whatever was left of my anxiety had melted away. This sadistic surge filled me. I wanted to break her, possess her, and push her so hard that anything sexually she would experience in the future would be compared to me and this night.
The two women backed away. I stood for a moment, admiring her beauty. Thinking what events transpired to bring her here. What sort of demons did she foster, or what vices had led her on this path? I could hear a grumble from the black void just beyond the light. The girl looked to where it had come from, but she didn’t move. It was as if she had willed herself not to move. Scared that some minor twitch or movement would result in a harsh punishment.

I closed the distance to her; I was going to take her fast and hard. When I got close, I pulled her to me. Her slender frame trembled against my flesh. Her skin was warm against mine. The white light from the chandelier above played about her snowy white skin and created and milky glow. Her flesh was flawless and I ran my hand down to her lower back; I cupped her ass with my hand and then pushed two fingers into her vagina. She gasped, and that only fueled me.

“Your name?” I asked as I pushed my fingers deeper.

“Ga-,” she stuttered. “Gabby.”

“You’re mine tonight,” I said.

I leaned in and kissed her gently. I caught her by surprise. She wasn’t expecting soft and she let down her guard a bit; her shoulders relaxed and she let out a slip of a smile.

“And it’s going to hurt,” I said. There was no response from her.

I lifted her up, her minute frame rose easily from the hardwood floor. I spun her around and deposited her gently on the white ottoman that had been placed in the center of the circle. She laid there still; the only movement was that of her chest. Up and down. Up and down. I could almost hear her heart heaving within. I reached down and placed my cold hand on her chest, and I looked her in the eyes. She didn’t look away.

I smiled.

I could see fear, but also a hint of excitement. The fear wasn’t a No. It was uncertainty. It was her giving herself over and not knowing what I intended. Yet she felt compelled to give. She became the rag doll in my fantasy.
I moved my hands across her bust, and tweaked the nipple of her left breast with my fingers. She flinched as I applied pressure. I pushed a little bit further after her reaction for good measure. She was compliant, and didn’t utter a sound. I liked this.
I could hear hushed whispers from the shadowy mob. I’m sure they were growing impatient, but I didn’t take them into account. Gabby was mine to play with. Mine.

I sort of thought of how cats play with their prey. They flaunt their dominance in the most obscene ways. They circle their intended, and so I circled. I kept my eyes locked with hers until I moved to the back side of the ottoman and stepped away from her so that her eyes couldn’t follow. A nervous wave hit and I left her there, exposed to all the unseen eyes that watched and perved over her youthful naked body.

She lay there, her eyes scanning and head trying to turn to find me. I stepped back into her view and locked eyes again. I approached her. My cock was hard and it brushed against her face as I leaned over to pull her legs apart, so those with the view could see.

“Do you think it will fit?” I asked.

Her eyes fluttered as she searched for an answer. The right answer.

My member brushed against her once more as I withdrew and made my way to inspect her for myself.

Gabby’s skinny legs hung off the ottoman, her feet suspended a few inches from the floor. Her frame was short and lean, and there were various protrusions of bone; mainly the hips. She looked more like a fashion model than a freshman Library Science student.

The didn’t make Librarians like that when I was in school, I had thought when I saw her picture. One of the things that had appealed to me was the idea of fucking a complete stranger. I had some initial hang ups about the audience part, but I viewed it as an experience and nothing else. Plus, I had been assured that acceptance in “the group,” as it was called came with certain benefits. Fucking 18-year-old Library Science students was just the first of said benefits.

I watched Gabby from my dominant position. She had gotten a little comfortable. Too comfortable. I lifted each of her legs up and scooted her closer to the edge of the ottoman. When I had her close enough to the edge, I flipped her over on her stomach and then lifted her up so that she was on all fours. I offered her a quick slap to each of her cheeks and then moved in behind her. The tremble was back.

I stroked myself back to a full hard on and used my finger to test her depths again. She was wet and ready. I used my own saliva to lube the shaft of my cock and then I thrust hard inside of her. Her scream was more a terrified wail. It elicited a gasp from some of the onlookers.

The entry was hard, fast, and violent. The following thrusts built upon the initial violence like a crescendo. The Xanax surging through my system focused my aggression. The gasps and audible response from the ghostly figures heightened the experience. It was like being at the fifty-yard line on a football field with nothing but green space in front of you. The more violent I became, the more I entertained. The louder they got.

Gabby took it all and for the most part she was quiet and stoic. Each new position, and each new thrust in that position elicited some response from her. It was like I was probing depths that had yet to be explored. I liked that, but there was nothing quite as emotive as that initial reaction. I tried to push her there again. I went hard, then slow, then hard again. I contemplated her asshole.

“Anal?” I had whispered to her ear. It hadn’t been on the list, and the look of fear in her eyes told me it was a no go. So, I didn’t press.

I grabbed Gabby by her hair and pulled her from the ottoman, she remained on all fours until I gave her direction to get on her knees. She quickly complied and sat there waiting for additional instructions. I sat down on the ottoman and grabbed her once again by her hair and guided her mouth to my cock. She knew what to do.

There was an instinctive way in which she used her small mouth to work every inch of my fat cock. She used her tongue to trace the shaft and then used her mouth to nibble here and there. I had never experienced this, but I liked it. It was clear she had some instruction, and then I found myself curious as to the instructor. I also found myself close to climax.

As I pulled up and towered over her, I rubbed my cock against her cheek. She leaned into it and actively rubbed her face against it. Gabby looked like an angel, the soft unassuming sort, but push the right button and you unleash the dirty. I liked her dirty.

I’m not sure what I expected when I came. It was all over her face, but there was no thunderous roar or cheering from the cheap seats. It was actually fairly anticlimactic. Gabby pushed herself against me and hugged my thigh. I pushed my member against her mouth, and she milked the last few drops.

I sat down on the ottoman. The overhead light turned out. I could feel Erin trembling against my leg. I pulled at her arm and she crawled up and situated her naked body half on mine and half on the available ottoman.

“A fucking librarian?” I asked.

“Literally,” she whispered.

We laughed.

Meg was a brainy girl with understated beauty and one of the greatest sets of breasts I have ever seen. She stood 4'11, and when asked she would always claim to be 5 foot.

"Just under average," she would say.

You didn't argue with Meg. She was pretty head strong, and had this wild streak to her. She thrived on spontaneity and had this infectious irreverent attitude about life. Though she was only eighteen, you could tell she had seen a lot in so few years.

I met Meg the first day of Spring semester during my Sophomore year at college. I arrived early for class and sat down outside in the hallway. Across from me sat this tiny delicate thing curled up in a mass of black and red flannel reading some obscure graphic novel. Her shorts were so short that it was nearly impossible to miss the sliver of neon green panties contrasting against her slender pale thighs.

Admittedly, that was how she caught my gaze. A single slip of color, that could have easily been drowned out by poor lighting. Nonetheless, it was essentially a trap and I took the bait. As my eyes drifted up, her eyes met mine. I was expecting some sort of nasty look or some sort of admonishment, but there was nothing. There was no reaction, nor any tell one way or the other, she just returned her attention back to the book she was reading and didn't pay me any mind.

When class opened, I was first in. I chose a seat in the back corner of the room. Along with my laptop, I had pulled out a copy of the Story of O which has just been returned by my last potential sub.

"Are you a Rene' or Sir Stephen?" a soft voice asked.

I looked up to see green pantie girl slipping into the seat next to mine.

"Excuse me?"

"You must be a bitch boy?" she stated emphatically as she motioned to the book on my desk.

It took me a moment to catch up.

"Do I look like a bitch boy?" I asked.

"I could see you sucking dick." she offered.

"Oh really?" I laughed. "With a mouth that small, how do you suck anything?" I countered.

She let out this completely obnoxious laugh. "You'd be surprised what my mouth can do," she said with a smile.

"I'm intrigued."

"You should be," she said.

As class began there was this lingering tension that existed. I've only felt it a few times in my life. It was like we were magnetically drawn together. I couldn't take my eyes off of her, the way she bounced around and seem to put out far more energy than she could ever consume. Part of her must have been equally as intrigued by me, as she rarely took her eyes off of me. By the time class was over her chair had shifted into the aisle from her constantly leaning over and passing notes back and forth.

"If you could do one thing to me, what would be it be?" she asked.

"I'd take you home and keep you for the weekend."

"But what would I do?"

"Whatever I wanted."

Meg smiled. "Two things, you can't call me baby, and you can't cum on my face."

"I won't cum on your face until you ask me to."

"That's not funny."

"Not meant to be," I said. "Just the truth."

"Sir Stephen," she said.

"Rene' is a bitch a boy." I offered.

"I'm sure he sucks dick," Meg added.

The next fifteen minutes felt like time warped and the world around us stood still. I can honestly say, that in those minutes, I don't recall seeing a single other person, nor do I remember the walk across campus to my car. There was only her.

"I'm taking you home," I said.

"Part of me doesn't care how bad that sounds," she offered.

"It's only bad if I'm a bad guy," I stated.

"Are you?" she asked.

"I can be," I answered.

Without any prompting, Meg had started to open the door to my car. I pushed it close.

"Backseat," I whispered in her ear.

"Yes sir," she said.

Meg opened the door to the backseat and started to crawl in.

"Stop," I ordered.

She complied and turned to face me. I took her backpack and tossed it into the backseat and pulled her red and black flannel shirt down from shoulders. As it dropped down to her waist I got my first view of her body. She was small with a slender frame, yet she boasted a bustline that was far beyond proportional. Her breasts poured through an old wife-beater, stretching the fabric to its limits.

"No bra," she said in a hushed raspy voice.

I placed my right hand on her hip and pushed my index finger down into her pants. It was the first time we had touched. I could feel a slight shiver from her as I ran my finger along her fleshy abdomen and to the button that fastened her shorts together. With a quick flip they were undone and my hand wandered up. The hair on her stomach and side prickled to the touch. As my hand found her breast Meg stepped forward into me. She found resistance as she pressed against the bulk of my 6'3 frame. For the first time she was speechless.

"Give me your panties," I ordered.

Meg stood quiet and motionless for a few moments, before she shook off the flannel shirt and let it fall the ground. With her face buried in my abdomen she shifted her weight and shimmied her short-shorts down to her knees. As she lifted her left leg to pull it through, she began to slip. I caught her as she began to lose balance.

"I got you," I said as I righted her. I then spun her around so that she was facing the backseat. I knelt down and pulled her panties to her knees.

"Turn over," I directed. "Lay in the backseat. You'll have to do the rest."

Meg stepped out of her shorts and crawled into the back seat. She turned over and immediately began slipping her panties the rest of the way down her legs. Once they were off she laid there listless. Her eyes focused away. I grabbed her left ankle with my right hand pushed it to the side. It was just enough to see what lied beneath those neon green panties. Her flower was just as delicate as she was. Fresh and pristine.

Voices preceded a group of guys that were walking up from behind my car. No doubt, heading to 3PM class. A shocked Meg immediately recoiled. Her startled eyes met mine. I smiled and shook my head.

"Stop," I mouthed silently.

I crawled in between her legs spreading them further apart.

"I might want them to see you," I said.

I pushed forward and slipped the wife-beater shirt over Meg's head. Her immediate reflex was to cover up. The voices of the men grew louder and closer. I shook my head again.

"No," I said.

Meg's arms were locked across her chest. Her eyes were huge. She turned onto her side.

"No," I ordered. This time in a bit harsher tone.

Meg froze as the voices seemed right on top of use. I could see three guys through my back window, standing just feet away from my rear bumper. Meg slowly eased up and rolled to her back, her arms fell to her side.

One of the guys broke off from the group and walked between my car and the truck in the next parking spot. I lost sight of him as he passed behind me but felt the door push in a little bit.

"Sorry," he said.

Meg gasped. "Oh my God!"

I watched Meg squirm. The man's footsteps grew softer and the look of terror on Meg's face melted into a smile as the experience passed and the weight of what had happened set in. She bounced up and down frantically kicking her legs.

"Oh my God!" she squealed. "Oh my God!"

"Come here," I ordered. Her enthusiasm shifted, she quickly leaned up and I slid under while she straddled me. As she nestled in, she ground deeply upon me. Pressing her nude flesh against my denim pants.

"Oh," Meg said coyly.

"Take it out," I ordered.

Meg fumbled a bit with my belt. Her small hand was nearly the size of the buckle. Her ham-fisted attempt brought impatience and I reached down and assisted. She managed the button with no problem.

She quickly reached in and pulled cock out. I slid down a bit and shimmied my jeans down to my knees. Meg was now straddling my stomach. Her pussy was rubbing against my skin, smooth and warm.

"Play with yourself," I directed. She complied by burying one hand in her crotch and diverted the other up my shirt where she rubbed my chest.

"Smooth," she said. "I like."

Meg rhythmically ground against me with her hand sandwiched between us. Fast, then, slow, then fast again. With each gyration she slid further down until she her ass was rubbing the tip of my dick. Using her free hand, she grabbed my cock and offered it a few jerks.

"I'm not sure it will fit," she admitted.

"Ya think?" I countered. "We just gotta get you wetter."

"I'm plenty wet," she said.

She had stopped rubbing herself and placed her hand on my chest to brace herself as she tugged on my cock. Faster, then slow, then fast again.

"Spit on it," I ordered.

Meg looked at me with a half-crazed look.

"You heard me," I said. "I want the first time you feel me, to feel me balls deep."

Meg ducked down and after several halfhearted attempts, I pulled her up. I hooked several of my fingers in her mouth and then rubbed the top of my cock.

"Put it in," I whispered as I pulled her body against me. "How many guys have you fucked in the parking lot?"

"None," she whispered.

"Look at me," I ordered.

Meg complied and she arched her back so she could look me in the eye. I shifted my left arm down around her waist and brought my right one up under her arm and grabbed the hair on the back of her head.

"This is going to hurt," I warned.

I held her tight and with a quick thrust I entered her. She let out a loud gasp and her vagina clinched. Still, my cock pushed deeper and deeper into her. With my arms I leveraged her body back and forth on me until the friction has lessened and her vagina relaxed.

"Now ride," I said. She rode.

It didn't take long before the build-up started to get to me.

"Not on the face?" I asked.

"Don't care," Meg responded. "Anywhere!"

Meg sped up and the intensity of her grinding grew. I took a deep breath and attempted to compose myself as I grew closer to climax.

"I'm about to," I said.

"Then do it," Meg said in a hushed whisper. She began tonguing my ear.

I reached down and with both my hands I completely encircled her waist. I pushed down and drew and protracted groan from her.

"Anywhere?" I asked.

Meg nodded emphatically, and then kissed me. I responded by grabbing her by the hair on the back of her head and caught her gaze.

"You let just any guy you meet in class cum in your eighteen-year-old pussy?"

Meg slowed a bit and processed.

"Never have," she responded.

"Never?"

She shook her head. "You'd be the first to cum in my eighteen-year-old pussy."

I came hard. Yet, a funny thing happened. I didn't get soft and Meg continued. She rode me a while longer until her back arched and she let out a loud gasp. She crumpled upon me and just stared glossy eyed out the car window.

"What now?" she asked. "Sub worthy?"

"Well, I know you can fuck," I answered. "We'll have to see how ya hold up over the next couple of days."

"Next couple of days?" she asked with a puzzled look.

"I told you I was going to keep you for the weekend," I said.

"You did say that," she offered.

She gently rested her head on my chest and returned her gaze out to the parking lot before sitting up abruptly.

"Hey, when did the truck leave?" she asked.

I looked at her and then to the empty space where the truck had been. We both let out loud obnoxious laughs before turning our attention to getting dressed.

"I'm going to need a toothbrush," Meg said.

The Wife

Time is a master magician. One day passes and then two, and before long you wake up and you barely recognize yourself anymore. Good friends have become old acquaintances and great lovers have become nothing more than fodder for great stories.

I had been gone from my job as an IT Specialist for several years. I had moved off and started going to a nearby college. I didn’t talk much to the folks back home. I would see Kira out from time to time when I came back to town, we’d exchange pleasantries and like clock work she would end up taking my cock in the parking lot.

During one trip back I noticed the banter was off and she was a little distant. I had been drinking for a while and I was a bit handsy. Kira had curves. Typically, she liked me to play with them, she said it made her feel owned, like she was mine. This night though, she kind of shied away. I tried to get her to open up and tell me what was going on but she refused. I told her to come outside, she was a little reluctant but she followed slowly. I could sense conflict in her, but wasn’t sure what to make of it. I led her out to road that ran behind the bar and to my car, I bent her over and pulled her pants and panties down to her knees and then pushed inside of her. She wasn’t as engaged or animated as she normally was, as I was getting close to climax, she had asked me not to cum in her. This was a huge departure as she knew where I came was pretty important to me, and I didn’t like to have that dictated. I pulled out and just didn’t finish. I puck my package back in my pants, and asked again if everything was alright.

“You can finish,” she had said as she bent back over the car. “Or, you want me to blow you?”

“Nah, I’m good,” I had replied with obvious concern in my voice.

There was an awkwardness, it was like watching something that had run its course and you knew the end was near. Kira shimmied her pants up and over her ass and hips. She grabbed and held on to me. It was a tender embrace. We stood there for a moment, before she reluctantly pulled away. Kira kissed me on my cheek like she had done so many times before and then she disappeared into the night.

I didn’t see Kira for a long while. She had gotten married and started school. Every so often I would get a three-a.m. call, but no one spoke. Looking back, I think it was her way of letting go.

I found myself moving back to my hometown a couple years later. I had gone for a routine visit to a dentist and as I was waiting in the waiting room Emily had come in with her oldest son. She had two kids now she had said.

“A boy and a girl,” she offered.

I smiled, we bantered back and forth about nothing of significance. She asked if I had seen Kira.

“Not in a while,” I had replied.

“She’s married with a kid,” Emily said.

I nodded.

“I see her pretty often,” Emily started. “We go to the same church. So, the only orgy’s we attend anymore are pot lucks.”

 

I chuckled politely. It was cute that she tried to make a connection between our past and her present.

“How things change,” I said followed with a low deliberate laugh.

Emily looked me over. I could still see that same look of longing that she had always had. I’m wasn’t sure if it was there when she walked into the office or if seeing me had rekindled those old memories.

“About the only excitement I get these days is running after my two,” she said. “Who would have thought it.”

“I had a sneaky suspicion,” I said.

“You may have known, she responded. “No one else did. I think you’re the only person that saw me for me. Not even Blake really see’s me.”

“Talk to him,” I directed. It had come out more like and order than a recommendation or advice.

Emily cast her eyes over to her son who was playing with a set of blocks on the other side of the room.

“I’m sorry how that sounds,” I said. “It’s none-”

“Oh no,” Emily countered. “I like it. It shows you still care.”

I thought to respond that I would always care, but thought better of it.

“I miss that,” she offered. “I miss those good kicks in the pants. That direction.”

I looked her over. She wasn’t the girl I had known. She was now full bodied and rounder. She had curves she hadn’t had before. Her hair was longer, a bit more unkempt, no doubt from having less time to care for herself. She looked good. She looked grounded.

“Bo,” I heard my name called and knew it was my turn to go back.

I stood up. Searched for something impactful and meaningful to say. Some, lasting piece of wisdom I could offer. Emily rose and moved towards me. She kissed me on my lips and then hugged me.

“MILF,” I whispered to her.

She busted out laughing and a smile beamed across her face.

“Don’t tempt me,” she said.

Time has a way of humbling you. On the way home from the dentist I looked in the rear-view mirror and I could see the effect of time etching its way into my face. My hairline had receded and I was reconciling who I was now, versus the man Emily and Kira had both known. In some way’s I was the same, but in even more way’s I was different. Experience had formed and hardened me, but also made me more able to commiserate. I thought about Emily, her development from the whore I had known into this homemaker she had become. I knew the cooking, cleaning, and raising kids didn’t hold the same excitement, the life she had once known. They were night and day. She looked good though, she looked like she belonged there in that place in time and in that life. It made me happy to know that in some small way I had helped her on that course.

I smiled.

I was awakened about 3 a.m. to my phone blaring my Marvelous 3, “Freak of the Week” ringtone.

“Hello?” I asked in a groggy voice.

There was a long pause.

“How are you?” I barely audible voice said.

“Kira?”

“Yea.”

“What’s going on?” I asked. “Everything okay?”

“No.”

“What is it?”

“Can I come over?” Kira asked.

“Yea, sure,” I responded.

Kira mentioned she’d be over in a few minutes. I hadn’t thought about whether she new where I lived. She must have since she didn’t ask. I washed my face and brushed my teeth. I was just about to put some pants and a shirt on when I heard the knock at my door.
Perhaps it was the excitement, but I immediately rushed to the door and opened it. Kira smiled when she saw me in nothing but my boxer-briefs.
“Mmm…” she said as she walked in.

“Come on in,” I said after the fact.

Kira looked around the living room like she was taking the place in. I anticipated she would sit on the couch but instead she moved into the kitchen and then into the back of the house and then to my bedroom. She turned the light off and then looked to me. Without a word she unbuttoned a plain white blouse and let it drop to the floor. Her chest was bare and exposed. She pushed her black yoga pants down to her knees and then used her left foot to pull them off. She stepped forward in the long sliver of light that creeped into my bedroom from the private bath.

Kira’s breasts were more rounded and fuller than I had remembered. Her young virginal mound had been overgrown by a dark bush. It seemed more fitting. She wasn’t the girl I had met those years before; she was now a woman.

“I’m yours,” she said.

I considered her words. I let her linger there in the center of the room, in full sight of me. I studied her. I could see the vulnerability in her eyes. I could her want as well. I didn’t know what had led her to this moment, to this bold declaration. I had to think that she had never fully let go of what there once was.

Time had changed her body, and likely her mind. It had changed me as well. I had come to understand myself better. I understood my dominance. She could say she was mine, but was she really? I knew there was a distinction between truly possessing someone and playing at it. I needed to know if we were playing or we were real thing.

I stepped forward and cupped her breast in my hand. It felt softer and hung lower. I then courted the perimeter of her breast and side with my hand and settled my hand on her hip. I grabbed her ass. It still had some of the firmness I remembered, but it was now blemished and dappled.
“You’re a woman now,” I told her.

She didn’t respond.

I looked her in the eye as I pushed two fingers inside her. She was tight, just as I had remembered.

“No one’s been inside me but you and my husband,” she offered.

I nodded and removed my fingers. I used my index finger to trace the c-section scar just above her hip. This was the first time she flinched. She started to cover it up, but caught herself and put her arms back to her side.

“What do you want?” I asked.

“You,” she quickly responded. She got me.

I had laid back on the bed and let her service me. It was 3 a.m. and I wasn’t looking to pull a marathon sex session. I also got the feel that she wanted something a bit softer and intimate. I saw this more as a rekindling, but also the start of something new. I was more direct with her, but I let her play. She devoured my cock. Pushing it deep into her throat and all the while maintaining eye contact with me. She worked my sides of my shaft like only she knew how.

“Sit on it,” I told her.

Kira was quick to push herself up, her body brushed against mine. She gave me a quick kiss before she settled her backside against my erect package. She reached beneath her and took me in her hand, she was gentle and rubbed my head against her warm welcoming slit my precum acting as a natural lubricant. I throbbed hard in her hand and she smiled. I could only imagine she hadn’t handled such equipment in quite a while. She pressed my engorged member against her sweet crevice but met resistance. She steadied herself and tried again, but she was too tight.
Kira leaned forward and kissed me again. She then nestled her head into pillow and nuzzled into the space above my shoulder.

“Do it,” she said.

I knew what she meant and I placed my right hand on her left hip and used my left hand to guide my cock up and against her vagina. I manipulated her hips to the side and worked my head in about and inch. I placed my other hand on her hip and in a quick thrust I tore through whatever resistance her lady bits could muster. My cock claimed the day with a force that sent Kira screaming out. She hadn’t been penetrated this deep in years.
It was never my intent to cuck her husband. To be honest, he never even entered into my mind. In a way Kira had always belonged to me. It was a truth he had accepted long ago when he decided to play second fiddle. He would welcome her with open arms even though she smelled like sex, my particular brand of sex. He never mattered to me. That probably sounds arrogant, a bit assholish, and yes to some degree it is. I had a code though, and in my mind she was mine. He had encroached on that long before. I never coerced her or asked her to choose. I always knew what the choice would be. I kept my distance, because I respected her. Yet, her she was, shivering on my cock. Acting as if she hadn’t had a good hard dicking in ages. She needed to be reminded what it was like to feel, to be needed and wanted. She needed to serve. And serve she did.

Kira’s insides felt like they had when I first fucked her. It didn’t take long before I was having to use my hands to guide her motions and control her rhythm. I wanted to milk it for all it was worth, and from the look on her face I don’t think she minded. She had cum quick, perhaps it was the bult up anticipation and the release of anxiety, but after my third for forth pump she loosened up nicely. There was the perfect amount of friction against the bare skin of my cock. She knew that when I started to manage things, I was getting close.

“One more minute,” she said between low guttural moans.

I nodded.

“I want to taste you,” she followed up.

I nodded again.

I let her ride until her legs began to quiver. Her mouth dropped and jaw went slack. She pushed back and sat up straight, driving my eight inches deep inside her. She came and then collapsed atop me. She breathed heavy as she intermittently thrust her hips back and forth. She was keeping pressing on my cock and keeping me erect.

After catching her breathe she slid down and cleaned my cock with her mouth. She used her hand to stroke me until I came. She savored every drop and milked me much as I had her. Only hers was more tangible. Hot, sweaty, and exhausted she crawled next to me and was soon asleep.

When we woke the next morning there was a sense of urgency. She was late, but she had a bounce in her step. She no longer seemed defeated, she seemed rejuvenated. I had joined her in the shower, made a quick deposit.

“I just want to feel you inside,” she has said.

I was happy to oblige. I snapped some pictures of us in varying stages of lewdness, and in very short order she was having to rush out of the door and back to her life. I wasn’t sure when I would see her again. I just knew I would be seeing her again.

Not long after Kira had left, I heard another knock on my door. I had expected it to be Kira, perhaps she had forgotten something or decided to write returning to her normal life for a few more hours. I was surprised to see that it was Emily.

I invited her in, and in a attempt to be transparent I let her know Kira had just left. She nodded like she knew.

“I told her where you lived,” Emily said. “I knew she was coming. I talked to her after I saw you at the dentist.”

This made sense, and I had kind of put that together.

“I don’t know why I’m here,” she said.

“Same reason Kira was just here?” I asked.

“I think so,” she answered.

I laughed and thought back to the first time Emily had come to visit. Kira had come in twenty minutes after Emily had left. There was symmetry there. I think sometimes the universe sends us signals at the moments we most need them. The importance of this all being equal, Kira being here first, and Emily arriving right after, versus how it went down in the past wasn’t lost on me.

Emily took my hand and much like Kira had done she led me back to the bedroom. She stood near where Kira had declared she wanted to be mine just hours before. Her white shorts hit the ground, and then her grey T-shirt. He covered up, and I thought to correct her, but I couldn’t connect with her. Emily’s eyes shifted and searched the floor. I could sense doubt in her. I stepped to her and she stiffened. I touched her and it was cold. There wasn’t the warmth I had felt with Kira. There was a distance there, an almost palpable sense of foreboding. I lifted her head and our eyes finally met, and where in Kira’s eyes I had seen want I saw tears.

I pulled her close and hugged her. She returned. The coldness of her body consumed me.

“I don’t know what I want,” she confided. “I want to, I do.”

“It’s okay,” I consoled.

“You can have it if you want it,” she offered. “Not sure you do?”

“Are you kidding me?” I asked firmly. “Why wouldn’t I want you?”

She shrugged dejectedly.

I grabbed her breast. They soft and flatter than I had remembered. Her belly had stretch marks. I turned her around and her ass sagged. I’m sure that’s what she saw. Just the imperfections.

I took her hand and ran it across my bare scalp, and then ran her hand across the lose skin of my face. I worked her finger into on the creases on my forehead and then I poked out my stomach and pushed her away. The point was that time had been unkind to both of us.
She laughed.

I led her to the bed and we laid there talking. She missed the old and reckless days. She missed hanging out and all the things we used to do. She spoke of prom, but then the conversation shifted to her marriage and her kids. She glowed when she spoke of them. They were the lights of her life. Somewhere in the transition from our sexual exploits to her time as a mother I realized why she was here. She was still that broken girl I had met long ago. She came her expecting to speak the language our bodies had spoken so many times, but ultimately what she wanted was understanding.

“How many guys have you been with since you got married?” I asked.

She hesitated, “Two.”

“We separated after the first year, right before Caleb was born,” she offered.

“So, you tried to go back to what you knew?”

She nodded.

“It wasn’t the same,” she said. “It didn’t feel right.”

“How about now?” I asked. “Does this feel right?”

“In a way,” she answered.

She lifted herself up and looked at me.

“Let me see you,” I asked before she could speak. She pulled the cover back and showed her body to me. I felt like I could take her, have my way with her. I couldn’t.

“What are you?” I asked.

“A whore,” she answered in a way that seemed robotic and void of emotion. The excitement that word had once was gone.

“No,” I said. “Once you were. Now, you’re something else.”

She looked away. My response had stung her.

“You’re worth isn’t defined on this,” I said as I grabbed her breast.

She giggled.

“You have to accept that we change,” I said. “Nothing stays the same.”

“I know,” she offered. “But I don’t want it to change.”

“Don’t you?”

She cast me a puzzled look.

“Think about it,” I said. “What’s the most important thing in your life?”

“My kids,” she answered quickly.

“Right,” I countered. “You told me about all this fun you used to have, but you can’t reconcile that life with your kids.”

She still seemed confused.

“Okay,” I said. “Just from being around and with you, I know you are changed. I see it in your manner, in the way you talk. You’ve matured. You’ve grown. You aren’t the same. Time has changed you. Experience has changed you.”

She nodded.

“I think you’re hear because you think I offer a bit of what you feel like you’re missing,” I said. “If you want dick, I can give you dick. We can set something up. I think though, you’re at a crossroads where you have to make a decision. You came to me to help you make that decision.”
Emily laid her head on my chest and glanced up to let me know she was listening.

“I think you know the answer,” I said.

Emily nodded.

“Is it wrong that I just like being here with you like this?”

I shook my head.

“It’s not practical,” I offered.

Emily’s eyes locked with mine once again. I touched her face and she closed them.

“You’re a creature of habit,” I said. “I tried to break of some of those habits back in the day.”

“Know your value,” she said mocked. I had once uttered those lines to her.

“You’re not a whore anymore,” I informed.

“What am I?” she questioned.

“You tell me?” I asked. “You know.”

“A MILF?!” she offered with obvious sarcasm.

I gave her a quick firm slap to the ass and put on my best pervy smile.

“I’m a wife,” she offered. “But a mother first.”

“So, what are you doing here?”

She smiled and blushed. She turned away and screamed into the cover.

“I do miss your dick.”


We laid there for hours and caught up. It was playful and it was vulgar, but there was an understood line. For the first time I witnessed her exercise control, and this made me happy. He husband was offshore and was gone for two weeks, but even though she was with me, and I felt like she was invested, I could sense her thoughts were elsewhere as well.

“I’m going to have to go soon,” she said. “I want to make the kids pancakes.”

“Little Mrs. Homemaker, eh?” I teased.

“I try,” she offered.

She smiled and offered me a gentle and intimate kiss.

“Thank you,” she said.

“For what?”

“You always seem to know what I need,” she said. “I didn’t expect it to go like this.”

“You expected to get fucked,” I said.

She nodded.

“It’s not all about sex,” I offered. “Sometimes it’s just about connection.”

“I know that,” she admitted. “I just needed to be reminded.”

She got out of bed and begun to gather her clothes.

“Where’s your camera?” she asked.

I pointed to the top drawer in my dresser. She pulled it out and held it up.

“For old times sake?” she asked.

 

Looking now at that picture right next to the one I took of her the first time she ever came to my house, there are noticeable differences. In the old picture her body is immaculate. Perfectly firm breasts, tight stomach, and flawless skin. There’s a wild look in the eyes of that girl, and a wicked smile. The woman in the other picture, is flawed and perfectly imperfect. The sense of wonder in her eyes has been replaced by a sense of stability, like she had finally found her place. She found where she belonged. The sagging skin and dimpled flesh are just testaments to that experience. I liked the woman, more than the girl. Only because I know the history.

Emily and I are now strangers. After that night, what bonds we had withered and the moments we shared have been the victims of time and age. In some ways, she will always be my whore, only that’s not who she is anymore.

I’ve always had an aversion to older women. I suppose it goes back to my youth, and the conflict I had with my need to control and having that control taken from me. A lot of this stemmed from the fact I was at odds with myself. I was controlled and reserved, yet I was curious and I liked to push boundaries. I could be bold, but I could also be quiet.

“You’re a mystery to me,” I was once told by Beth, a much older woman.

Beth was a nurse that worked nights, and who as long as I had known her, she had a long line of boyfriends and one-night stands. She was also the mother to my best friend’s girlfriend. Ana and Mark had been dating seriously, well as serious as you can be in high school, for about a year. It was kind of a foregone conclusion they would get eventually get married.

The nights that Beth was at work, we hung out played games and got drunk and stoned. Beth never seemed to mind. She had her own demons. Vodka being the primary one. Me being another.

Beth always seem to have this cloud of sorrow that followed her around. It wasn’t a cloud you could see, but it was like a mist that flowed through the room when she would enter. It left me feeling chilled and emotionally drained. It was like she could consume all the happiness and good will from a room. Truth is, even though it was apparent she had let herself go, she had been a beautiful woman. Hidden behind her course weathered features, there was still a hint of her beauty. In a lot of way Ana was very much the spitting image of her. Fiery red hair, voluptuous breast, and a nice round ass. The two weren’t tall, but they weren’t short. Ana was kind of the opposite, instead of sucking the energy out of a room when she walked in, she actually infused it. She was a ball of energy, and sometimes I would watch both mother and daughter and try to extrapolate the reason the two were so different.

I knew Beth had a rough go with men. As long as Ana could remember there was a long procession of lovers that came and went. It was almost like Beth couldn’t be alone, as if she had to spend the night alone, that wouldn’t survive. Perhaps she needed the reassurance and security of knowing someone was there, that their mere presence was validation and showed someone cared.

Looking back, Beth damaged me as much as she was damaged, but in different ways. It wasn’t immediate, not like I took stock of how my affair with her shifted my worldview. And it wasn’t her alone that accomplished this feat, but when she fucked me, I felt like a caged rat. As if the walls were closing in on me. That’s the first time I had ever felt that.

I was a mystery to Beth, but one she had no interest in solving me. She was merely in it for eight inches of flesh and a brief fling of passion.
Years later I came across a book that described demons and fantastical creatures. There was one that stuck out in particular, the succubus. They were often times beautiful women that lured men into sexual trysts and in the process left their mates diminished. I felt diminished after each of my encounters. I couldn’t help but think of Beth.

When your young it’s easy to move on, to put things behind you. I put Beth behind me when I graduated high school. Ana and Mark went off to college, and I went into the military. I had instances where older women would show interest, but I politely declined or shied away all together. As I explored and learned about myself, I came to realize I needed certain things. I needed control, and to be able to exert my dominance.

I associated youth with submissiveness. Women my age or younger had no desire to dominate, and for the most part they were content to be directed. Many of them were learning just as I was. When I finally learned and understood my dominant nature, I opened things up. I finally understood my aversion to older women. It wasn’t the age, as much as it was the motivation behind the persons action. Looking back on my time with Beth, perhaps had I been more confident of my abilities I could have controlled the situation. I could have controlled her and exacted a different outcome and feeling than I had felt.

Years later with Sandy, Emily’s mom, I had been the target of some manipulation by her. As part of a surprise her daughter was setting up, Sandy went to what she knew best to lure me out of my office and out to the parking lot. She used her body, and the hint of sex. Her promiscuity repulsed me at the time and I had let it be known. At the time I thought it was a complete lack of control of herself that led her to behave in such a way. I deduced that she must take the path of least resistance, that her approach to life was make the easiest choices and just go with the flow. I had seen much of this behavior mimicked in Emily. I had taken Emily on as a project. I had pushed her to take ownership of her sexuality, to be mindful of how she employed it. It was during my time with Emily, that I could to understand that was some level of control happening within Sandy, however it was very benign and very much in the background. Sandy was an emotional butterfly. She flittered and fluttered from guy to guy, the winds of emotion her guide. She was a feel-good person, driven by her baser instincts. There was a hint of control there. Not much, but it was there.

I had been rude to Sandy. I felt like I had to be direct, but perhaps I let some of the emotion from my own past bleed through and taint the word “Whore” when I called her that. She was promiscuous and she was easy, and honestly, I was offended by her amateurish attempt to seduce me. I was young then, I was cocky, and I was an asshole.

Aside from that one night, and in the few seconds after I called her a “Whore,” she didn’t let it register. She treated me the same as she always had. It was like she had completely scrubbed it from memory. She also didn’t change much. I came upon her with two of Emily’s friends in the back of a SUV outside one of the local dive bars. The second-row seating had been leaned back, her boobs were pushed up out of her bar, and she was bouncing up and down on this young guy’s lap. The young guy was completely fixated on the ample white mounds flapping just inches from his face. He was too young to get in the bar, but just old enough to get in Sandy.

My curiosity had gotten the best of me, and I had to look as I passed. I didn’t linger. I just kept on into the bar. She must have seen and a few moments later, she had brought me a drink.

“Crown?” she asked as she put the drink in front of me.

I nodded.

“Putting on shows?” I asked. “I can put you on camera and stream it for all to watch.”

Sandy curled her lips, and took a moment to respond.

“You don’t like me, do you?” she asked.

“I don’t like nor dislike you,” I answered. “You bought me a drink, so you’re in the positives with me.”

Sandy had been a math teacher in a previous life, or ten years before at some school out West. I figured she would get the positives reference. There seemed to be a hint of recognition in her eyes as I lifted my glass, tipped it towards her and took a drink.

“I can’t ever figure you out,” she offered.

“You can’t figure me out, because you can’t manipulate me like most other guys,” I countered.

“You think I manipulate?”

“Are you serious?” I asked.

She didn’t respond. She let out an exasperated breath.

“Emily told me about you,” she said.

“Is that why you’re concerned with me?”

Sandy shook her head.

“You think I’m a monster,” she said in a tone I knew that was designed to draw pity.

“No,” I said. “But if were talking, you can cut out that woe is me shit. I don’t like nor dislike you. That little thing you do that works on most guys; I could give fuck all bout. You’re a whore. I think on some level you’re okay with that, and that’s cool. What I don’t like is the pretension that I want to fuck you when you offer me nothing that I can’t get from someone else, that I can get younger, and with less miles on the tires.”
I went hard on her for a reason. I needed to see how she took it. Everything I said was true, and unlike that night in the parking lot I was in complete control, so it was also deliberate. I watched the features of her face wash away; the fake smile was gone and her eyes downcast. She grabbed for her drink, and I cupped my hand over it and prevented her from picking it up. She fidgeted and looked uneasy. It was like I had cut off her lifeline. She looked up at me.

“You’re done with that,” I said.

She nodded.

As we pulled up to my house, I was thinking about how I should play things. I hadn’t intended to bring her home, but her willingness to be directed had turned me on. I kept going back to memories of Beth. Her older worn body, the loose skin and stretch marks. Sandy bore some of the similar features, though she tried harder to hide it. My purpose for Sandy wasn’t to fuck her, it was to expose her in a way she hadn’t been exposed before. She stood in the center of my living room, her clothes in a pile before her. I had fixed me a drink while she undressed. I sat back onto my couch and just watched to see how she responded. She was quick to try and use her arms to cover herself as much as possible, but I had admonished her and she dropped them to her sides as instructed.

Sandy was a curiosity to me. She was strong, yet she was weak. She was strong-willed, yet she was easy to convince. Easy to convince to be sexual. Sex was the key. It was the greatest currency she had, and she spent it like a meth head spends their last dollar on a bump. Enthusiastic and almost giddy.

“Are you happy?” I finally asked.

I took a sip of my Crown.

“I think I am,” Sandy offered.

“What makes you happy?”

“My kids,” she answered.

“Emily?” I asked.

Sandy started to answer but paused. She knew there was something more to the question and she was trying to figure out what it was. Truth be told, it was another test. I didn’t intend to ask her, but her mentioning her kids sort of naturally led me to Emily, who I had a very intimate familiarity with, both physical and mentally.

There were cracks in the façade that Beth was putting forth. Her front was crashing in on itself, and she realized she had opened the door and invited me to step in. I knew Emily had told her about us. I knew she had to be somewhat responsible for our Prom Night date, since she had been the one that lured me out so the girls could sneak into my office. Now, after several years she and I had come full circle. I was about to get answers that I didn’t know I wanted back then.

“You think I’m a bad mother,” she started. “I guess I am. I guess I got so comfortable with who I was, not happy, but comfortable. I guess that sort of rubbed off on her.”

“I’m not judging you,” I said. This wasn’t about judgement. It was about truth and answers for me. “She’s doing good for herself. Married, a kid on the way.”

Sandy beamed a massive smile and then perhaps because she was feeling more comfortable with me, she moved to cover herself again.

“No!” I barked.

She immediately dropped her hands to her side.

“We are going to be completely open and honest,” I said. “And you are going to do what I say.”

Sandy smiled and shook her head in a girlish way that I found familiar.

“Like mother, like daughter,” I said.

Perhaps it was a low blow, today I could have gotten the information a bit more subtly, back then I was more about a brute force approach. There wasn’t a lot of room for subtlety, that’s the sort of thing that comes with experience and wisdom. Despite my brashness, Sandy and I were on the same page. I had seen her naked dozens of times, all my friends had either fucked her or gotten head from her. I let it be known that were going to be no pretenses or fakeness. Though she tried to slip back into the familiarity of those childish games here and there, by and large she had stayed true to the intent of the night. The intent of my probing of her.

“Do you want me to fuck you?” I asked.

She nodded.

“Why?”

“I like you, always have,” she answered.

“Why?”

“My God, when you walk into a room, there’s this presence, it’s not so much sexual, as it is,” she paused and thought. “I just want to drop my panties for you, and do what you say.”

“You drop your panties for everyone though,” I prodded. “What makes me special?”

I could see the thought process in her face. I motioned to her to come sit down by me. She complied and I handed her my drink. She took a sip and tried to give it back to me.

“I might stick my dick in you, but I’m not drinking after you,” I Informed her. To my surprise she smiled. It struck me then, that all the guys, all the attention, it was all to fuel some internal desire. She was a whore because she chose to be. She liked the conflict of feelings that welled in her after the deed was done. She liked the negative connotation of it all. Sure, the sex felt good sometimes, but it was just the currency to get to that feeling. To call her a whore was a compliment.

Sandy took another drink and then put it down on the coffee table. She turned to me, her chest was bright red and her chest was beating like a revved-up fire engine.

“I like it,” she said. “I like feeling their hands on me, feeling like I’m giving them something they need. I like pleasing. Then after I like the feeing of being dirty, and being used. Those feelings, those are for me.”

Bingo! That was the key, and I was pretty sure this was the first time she had actually articulated it or explained it. She was all about the feeling.
“I like when you watch me,” she said. “Sometimes, I pretend I’m putting on a show for you. I pretend others are you, or that they will tell you.”
I considered what she said and I was quiet. Which I’m sure for her was a new experience since I was rarely left with nothing to say, but I wanted to be calculated in my response. I wanted to put her words, feelings, and thoughts into the Bo Blender and see what came out. It was more a process than a reaction.

“I like to be seen by you,” she offered and put her hand on my leg.

“You don’t touch me,” I said as I brushed her hand off. “I touch you.”

She nodded and understood the breach of unspoken protocol.

“Have you ever had a submissive?” she asked.

I shook my head.

“Almost,” I answered.

“Emily’s dad and I were in bondage and such,” she said. “He wasn’t very powerful though; he was kind of weak. I guess you spend long enough with one thing, then you gravitate to the other. I like strong men who take what they want.”

This confession made sense. During her marriage she probably had to initiate any sort of connection whether it was physical or mental. In a lot of ways, she was the opposite of me. She craved a lack of control, and I craved the control. Although, I hadn’t been married to Beth those years before, those interactions had left a mark, it had put me on a path of self-discovery. I was dominant, but I still wasn’t quite sure what that meant other than I craved control and without control I suffered. Sandy and I were on opposite ends of a spectrum, and we couldn’t deny who we were. She had spent years denying and it had warped her. I wouldn’t allow my experiences to warp me.

“Stand up,” I said.

Sandy complied.

I grabbed her by her throat and I spit in her face. She smiled and licked off what little she could reach with her tongue. We were simpatico, but in different ways. I had control and she liked that, no she burned for it.

I squeezed my hand harder and her smile grew and so did I. I was fully erect when I forced it inside her. She was loose, and worn out. I didn’t care. This wasn’t about the act, it was about the dominance, about me taking what I wanted and giving it to her however I chose.
Sandy grabbed both sides of the coffee table and braced her self as I railed her from behind. I pushed inside her as hard I possibly could. I would be the one she remembers out of all the others. I would be the one tomorrow she would smile about, instead of lament. She would know I was there and my absence would haunt her.

The stretched muscles of her vagina offered me little resistance. Even with my bare cock sliding in and out of her I couldn’t garner enough friction to build up anywhere close to climax.

“Your pussy isn’t working,” I said. “Get on your knees.”

Sandy spun eagerly and dropped to her knees. My cock when into her mouth so hard it forced to gag and recoil. I didn’t give her long to recover before I had her by the back of her head and was using her mouth and throat much like I had used her vagina. Rough and hard. Her mouth offered plenty of resistance, and I could push farther into her throat than I could with most women. I was taking advantage of those years of experience. It was then I had a thought.

I pulled out, my balls were getting tighter and I could feel the pretext of a climax. I continued to stroke my cock inches above her face.

“Open your mouth,” I ordered.

She complied.

I sprayed my load across her face and into her hair. Very little actually made it into her mouth. She scraped what she could off and started to look around for something to wipe it on.

“Eat it,” I commanded.

“I don’t,” she said.

“You do now.”

She licked me off her fingers. When she was done, I leaned down and using my index finger I lifted her chin. I could see a thin film from my saliva earlier and the cum I just deposited on her face.

“Leave it,” I said. “And get dressed.”

We had only been at my house for a couple of hours and people were making their way to the after-hours bar. In the parking lot lights the sheen of my fluids was still visible on her face. She seemed to wear it like a badge of honor.

“You’re a whore right?” I asked.

“Amongst other things,” she answered.

“So, I can just pick a random guy and you’ll fuck him?”

She considered what I had said and nodded.

“You pick him,” she said. “I’ll fuck him.”

The way Sandy said it so as-a-matter-of-factly send a wave of excitement through me. There was something about the fact I could dictate who she fucked. I had the ability to make someone’s night, and that felt powerful. I hadn’t felt power quite like that before. I was hard once again and Sandy noticed.

“You need a little help?” she asked.

I declined. I wanted to put this new found power to use. I wanted to explore this whole presence thing. I made a point to let her walk in the bar first and then I followed a few minutes later. She had gotten me a drink, but I think she understood my meaning by wanting to explore. She left the drink on the bar for me and I surveyed the patrons standing around.

The man I chose for her was old even to her. I knew him to be a massive pervert. Always making inappropriate jokes and copping feels whenever he could. I knew he was more bark than bite, and had no qualms about Sandy’s ability to manipulate him. When I identified him, she shook her head, like he was worst option available.

‘I feel like this is a test,” she said.

“I guess that makes me the teacher and your old ass the student,” I countered.

She laughed.

“Old huh?”

I nodded.

“Let’s just hope I don’t give Pervy Peter here a heart attack,” Sandy said. She then kissed me on my cheek and made her way over to her intended target. My cock was rock hard, the sight of her walking across the bar excited me. She was mine in a way, but in a way, she was everyone’s. I like that contradiction. I liked the power.

It didn’t take long for Sandy to win Pervy Pete over and the two left on their predesigned coupling. I felt like I had just hit a walk-off homerun in a little league game. I felt triumphant. I made my way to the back bar and ordered another Crown. There was a hint of recognition when the bartender came back over with my drink.

“You’re Bo right?” she asked in hushed voice.

“Yes ma’am, I am.” I answered in a deep confident voice.

“You don’t know me,” she said softly. “I know you.”

“How so?”

“I was friends with Kira and Emily,” she answered.

The recognition clicked and I had remembered her being one of the girls in the Prom party that had rented a limo.

“I know what you like,” she offered as if the recognition in my eyes had emboldened her.

“What’s that?” I mused.

“A girl that likes to be told what to do. I like that.”

I smiled.

The Whore

 

                Emily played wistfully with my cock. Her head was perched between my legs and the rest of her body sprouted out in a prone position on my bed. She was bored. Flicking my dick back and forth across her mouth and then routinely making a low growling noise and using my hard member to distort the noise at it came out. During one such vocal outburst, she accidentally let slip a slight belch, and I cast my eyes from show I was watching down to her.

                I was seated against the back headboard of my bed. The particular exercise that was going on was something I had devised in the weeks since I had left Emily lying completely exposed across my office desk. I had let her stew in the thoughts of the experiences from that encounter, and I wanted to see if she would be true to the orders, I had given her.

                “No one sees you naked,” I had said. “And no one penetrates you”

                When I said the words, I didn’t really think about the link between penetration and them seeing her nude. She had reminded me that in most cases a guy would have to see her nude in order to penetrate her. I tried to explain that sex was possible without a guy seeing her nude. She protested, then had a eureka moment.

                “In the dark!” she said proudly, almost like she had just discovered the cure for cancer.

                It was cute in a way. In the way that here was this gorgeous girl, fully nude, save for a hot pink thong laying in my bed and treating my cock like a blow pop that she was forced to lick, and not bite in order to get to the juicy center. As much as I was charmed by her girlish wit, I was also worried. For the first time I was left questioning my approach. I felt like exposing her, opening her up, would bring about some understanding. The knowledge and experience gained would help her take control of her sexuality and treat it as something of value versus something to be given away arbitrarily. I couldn’t do anything about her past, but I could help her with her future. Self-control could do that.

                Tonight’s task was just as rough for me as it was for her. The idea was to have her see, touch, and lick, but she would get no other gratification from it. She linked nudity with sex. Hell, she linked everything with sex. I wanted to open her up to the idea of service. The idea of pleasing another and gaining pleasure herself. So far, it wasn’t registering.

                “I like it,” she said.

                “You like what?” I said, playing dumb.

                “Your pee pee,” she said softly.

                I giggled.

                “You like my cock,” I countered.

                She blushed a bit.

                “For a girl who has seen as many cocks as you have you should be able to say the word,” I offered.

                What I had said stung. I needed it to. I needed her past to register and be something she took account of. I needed her to understand the motivations behind why she let all those guys between her legs. Why she let them use her, and why she expected so little in return.

                The first time she had come over I had tried to discuss things with Emily. Her mind and eye had immediately focused on the bulge in my sleeping shorts. I had let her suck me off on the outside deck, while watching the lightning bugs dance and flitter about, to the tune of my neighbors yelling and hate fucking one another.

                Emily had been confused about my reluctance to fuck her “properly” as she had called it. She was bit anxious and unsure, started to question herself. Which is what I had wanted. I realized I couldn’t explain the intricacies of what I wanted to do with her, I had to guide her, educate her. Except instead of textbooks, I had to rely on experience and self-introspection. I had to be a Dom.

                “Cock,” she said. “I like your fat cock!”

                I smiled. I got this boyish feeling inside whenever I heard a woman talk dirty. Her saying cock was akin t the first time I had heard Liz Phair say fuck in that poppy tune she did when she sold out. Little did I know, that her older discography made her seem like a choir girl.

                “Alright,” I said, “Let’s wrap it up.”

                Emily pouted.

“None tonight?”

                “Nope, not tonight,” I confirmed. Emily blew a dejected breath onto the head of my cock. She looked at me, then as if a switch had been flipped, she did what she was expected to do.            She got me off, swallowed, dressed, and then promptly left.

                I was building in her a certain expectation. That she wasn’t in control of the situation. Part of me wanted to leave her walking bow legged for days, but then part of me was repulsed by her past. It wasn’t the number of guys she had been with. I could get over that no problem. It had been the aloof manner in which she approached sex. The arbitrary way she let guys pursue and conquer her. Right now, there was no value in her for me. I didn’t feel the desire to own her, to possess her, especially not in the traditional way she had been had. I was needing to find that spark, the one moment that I had found with Kira, where I knew she was mine.

                I was Kira’s first. So, she was virginal. I didn’t expect that in Emily, that would have been an unfair comparison, but I did need to feel like I owned a part of her that no other guy had owned. I needed to see the parts most guys didn’t care to see. The emotions and vulnerability that she kept stowed away beneath years or hurt and pain. I needed her to trust me, and I needed her to open up to me. That was the path for me to getting the feeling I craved. The feeling of ownership.

                Kira arrived about twenty minutes after Emily had left. The two weren’t talking. Emily had told me about Kira going behind my back and forbidding her from speaking to me. That violated a certain trust and didn’t honor a particular agreement. Kira and I had developed a dynamic of sorts. We had understandings and rules in place, although we never used any sort of terminology to describe. I was still green. I understood the idea of dominance, and I knew I liked to be in control, but I had no clue about there being a whole lifestyle to it. Kira was just along for the ride, and though she was unhappy where things stood between us now, she enjoyed any ride I gave.

                “Your pet was here again,” Kira said as soon as she walked in.

                “Stop it,” I said firmly.

                “I’m just surprised is all,” she responded. “Blake came back in tonight.”

                I nodded.

                “You want something to drink?” she asked.

                “Crown,” I responded.

                She went into the kitchen and I could hear her getting ice and fixing my Crown and Coke, and then I heard her go into the fridge and I knew she was making herself a dirty martini.

                Kira came back into the living room and placed our drinks on the coffee table after taking a deep pull from the martini. She smiled.

                “I’m going to get a shower and then put a load of clothes on,” she said.

                I cleared my throat and gave her a look. Emily’s eyes shifted and then came to life.

                “Oh shit,” she said excitedly. “I forgot.”

                She kicked off her shoes, and then pulled her pants and panties down and off in one quick movement. She folded them neatly and then placed them on the chair by the door. It was then her top came off and she came over and leaned close to me. I reached around and with a quick flick unsnapped her bra.

                “If there was a guy in school that could do it that quick,” she started, “I might not have been virgin when we met.”

                Kira offered me a sly smiled and I pulled her down and onto my lap. Kira was a beauty. To me there are hot women, then there are beauties. Emily was hot because she looked like she could be peeled off the page of a magazine. Kira was beautiful, in that while she wasn’t flawless, but her flaws made her unique.

                Kira’s dark curly hair splashed about my face, and her massive breasts hung against me. I pulled her close. She was a tall girl, in heels she was nearly eye level with me. She was thick in all the right ways, large tear shaped breasts, a wide ass that expanded out and filled out a pair of yoga pants like no other, and there was her hair. The dark curls that splashed about her face were hypnotic. Shimmering locks that in the right light almost look to have a purple tint. The best thing about Kira, she was unassuming. I could tell her she was beautiful and she would blush, and I could tell it really mattered.

                In the moment I held her there was intimacy. Feelings rush hard, and threw all my control out of whack. I kissed her gently, and she returned in kind. It was the moments like these that I cherished above any others. Sure, the kinky sex was great, but it was when she was in my arms, we just connected on a different level. I felt okay not having control, letting my need for it drain away and being content to just be.   

                There was a rule though, a rule we had stipulated when we were together.

                “Someone want’s to play,” she said and then a mischievous grin crossed her face. She worked my member out of my shorts and scooted to the side of me and laid down. She pressed her lips to the head of cock and then put it in her mouth. She paused and I could see the thoughts enter her mind. She was thinking of Emily. It was like they were on exhibit in a car showroom behind transparent glass for all to see. I started to say something, but I though better. Kira continued to service me.

                I knew as soon as she had stripped off her clothes I was going to penetrate her. What started off soft and sweet, blossomed into a passion fueled fire that burned white hot. The couch couldn’t contain us, nor could the floor, the kitchen bar, we even knocked the bedroom door off its hinges when we slammed into it. I knew what I wanted to do.

                In a violent motion I spun her and pushed over the dresser just to the right of the bedroom door. In the top drawer I pulled out a container of lube, instinctively she put some on her fingers and rubbed it up and down my shaft before pushing into her ass and massaging the area. We had tried anal before, but had never really had success.

                “I’m taking it,” I said.

                She nodded.

                “I’m going to make it hurt.”

                A reluctant smile crossed her face.

                “It’s yours,” she offered.

                I thrust in hard, and took it. Kira squealed and then there was a low cry. I was balls deep in her ass, and she went quiet after the first set of wails. She composed herself, and pushed gently back against me. I could feel the muscles of her sphincter tighten, and then ease up. It was a cycle of tightening and releasing. It felt different from her vagina, much warmer and tighter. Her pear-shaped ass hugged my pelvic region, and I couldn’t help but think of how well we fit. I smiled, before I thrust harder into her as she had started to push back. A muffled cry escaped her. She was mine, and so I had my way. I made it hurt.

                Kira’s frame was built for sex. She could take my girth and all of my eight inches all night long. She would be out of commission the next day, but she was always willing to take whatever I could get. I never thought of her as a whore. She was my lady. I had been her first, and I had been her only. There was a since of ownership in that. In the way she looked at me, and how she listened. We were in lock step for the most part. Kira’s one flaw, she could be emotional, and she could act out. Say things and do things that were designed to hurt. It’s the reason why weren’t together. It was why we were an unspoken dynamic. She was mine, and despite Emily, she was okay with that. That’s why I was okay with her.

                The upcoming prom was pillow talk topic. Kira and Emily were both 18 and in the home stretch of their senior years. For the record, I was 23 at the time. I was young, and really just starting to come into my own. I knew the prom thing was going to be a difficult subject. With my position at the company, and just the nature of the small town, I couldn’t go to a high school prom. Kira was disappointed, but told me she would figure something out.

                Emily had mentioned prom, and when I spoke to her the next day she mentioned that her boyfriend Blake would be offshore. She was quick to remind me that he hadn’t touched, nor seen her naked, and he hadn’t penetrated.

                “He’d have to see you naked for that, eh?” I had joked.

                She laughed.

                Kira had cleaned and put my laundry on before she had left. Emily had texted and wanted to come over. I knew she was horny. I knew she wanted some sort of release. She started by folding up the clothes Kira had put in the dryer, and I made lunch.

                Emily and I ate on the deck outside my house. It was a pretty spring day. There had been a bit of a chill early on. Emily was in one of my Nirvana T-shirts and a neon green thong, that peaked out from underneath the shirt. Emily was sitting with her knees pulled up and feet in the chair. She slurped back the little bit of gumbo that was left in the bowl.

                “Your going to show me how to cook this right?” she asked.

                I nodded.

                “Whore training and then domestic,” I said.

                There was something off with Emily. I could tell there was a bit of apprehension behind every word and every sentence. It was like she was building up to something, like there was question she wanted to ask, but she was scared to actually put the words together and speak them. I needed to give her permission.

                “What is it?” I asked.

                “Is it bad that like being a whore?” she asked.

                I looked her over. I tend looked around at the small houses that surrounded the miniature cul-de-sac that I lived on.

                “Take your shirt off,” I said.

                There was a flash of horror in her eyes as she looked around too. She finally did as instructed.

                “How do you feel?” I asked.

                “Cold,” she laughed.

                “You’re a girl any guy would be crazy not to want,” I said.

                “You don’t want me,” she interjected. “You think I’m a whore because of how many guy’s I’ve slept with.”

                “I don’t want you, because you don’t understand your value,” I said. “I don’t want you because I want you to be wanted.”

                She sat quiet pondering what I had said. She had crossed her arms trying to hide the fist sized mounds on her chest. In the distance there was a slight rumble of a vehicle approaching. I recognized it as the neighbors Ford Ranger. Emily immediately grabbed for the shirt to cover up, but I reached my had out instead, and she handed it over.

                The red ranger pulled around the curve that led into the cul-de-sac.
                “Put your arms down,” I said, “Let him see.”

                Emily complied. She dropped her arms down. The red ranger passed and the driver was a middle-aged man named Todd. I had very little interaction with him. With a few moments he passed and pulled up to his apartment across the way.

                “What’s the difference between him seeing you naked and some random dude that picks you up in the bar?” I asked.

                “At the bar I’m usually drunk,” she answered. “I’m so not drunk now.”

                I cast her a smile. She looked adorable. Like a scared kitten exploring the world for the first time.

                “Come here I said,”

                Emily pushed her chair out and came and crawled into my lap. She leaned back against the arm rest and drapped her legs over the opposite one. She nestled into my crotch, prompting me to adjust myself with my hand to keep her from sitting on my cock.

                “Being a whore isn’t bad thing,” I said. “It’s the lack of control, that gives me pause.”

                “Lack of control?” she asked.

                “I don’t want what everyone else has had,” I said. “I need you in ways those others guys haven’t had you.”

                “Like a relationship?” she said with a puzzled look.

                I shook my head. There were dueling ideas at play. I wanted her to take control of her sexuality, but then I wanted her to submit that control to me. I wasn’t quite sure how to get that across.

                “Take ‘em off,” I said.

                Emily quickly removed the neon green thong and dropped it to the deck. I grabbed her crotch with my right hand and pushed two fingers inside of her. She was wet, her fleshy lips offered little resistance. I pushed my fingers in and out. It had been two weeks since she last had a dick in her. That was probably the longest since her first time.

                “I want you to own,” I whispered into her ear. “I want you to only give to someone that has earned it.”

                She nodded like she understood. I had started to play with her clit, rubbing it gently with my index finger.

                “What I want is for you to deny all others and give it to me,” I said.

                She nodded again, and then turned and kissed me. I braced her head with my left hand and continued to stimulate her clit with my right. The kiss was passionate. There was feeling in it. I could tell she enjoyed it, that it had been more than just a response or going through the motions. It was a start.

                The passion was palatable in those few moments. I felt like we had finally connected. That I was starting to open her up. She pulled her lips from mine gently, and then offered a soft peck before burying her head into my left shoulder. I continued to work up the pace of my right hand. I could feel her shiver and her legs start to shake.

                “When I say you’re a whore,” I said softly. “You’re my whore. You’re mine to do dirty things to.”

                She nodded into my shoulder; her face hidden from view.

                “That what makes this so special,” I said as I interrupted my momentum and grabbed her crotch to drive home my point. “It matters who you give this to.”

                I stroked gently and then worked up to a feverish pace. She writhed and convulsed in my lap and let out blood curdling scream that I’m sure Todd had heard.

                Emily went limp in my lap. She nuzzled against me and laid there.

                “I want to be yours,” she said. “I want it to be special.”

                We sat there on full display for nearly ten minutes, just listening to the birds’ chirping and the roar of cars from the nearby highway. I felt like we finally made some progress.

                During the week before prom, Kira and Emily both showed up at my house. They must have conspired, and being that I’m pretty predictable, they showed up just as I was getting home from work. I showered while they cooked dinner, it was actually pretty impressive. I didn’t need to give any direction. The two hummed along like a well-oiled machine and within an hour had a cooked up a personal favorite of mine; hamburger steak with mashed potatoes and gravy.

                I was suspicious, but I didn’t say anything that would alter the mood. I just let things be and figured they would reveal their intent in due time. After dinner, we settled in, I was in the middle of the couch, Emily was on my right and Kira my left. I’m not going to lie, I figured things two ways, either I was going to get lucky and both of them were going to be tasting my cock, or they were there to tell me they were moving on. I dismissed the latter, but the thought was there.

                “We have news,” Kira said.

                “I kind of figured,’ I replied.

                Kira cast a suspicious eye at Emily.

                “She hasn’t said a thing,” I said. “I was suspicious the moment I saw you two getting out of the car.”

                Kira nodded and the suspicious look dissipated.

                “We’re going to prom together,” Kira informed.

                “We decided that since Blake can’t go since he’s working, and you can’t go, we would just go together,” Emily said.

                It made sense. I was happy that they had come to this on their own. It was unexpected, but very welcomed. I can’t lie though, I had been secretly hoping threesome, but this news was better than me losing both or one of them.

                The rest of the night was quiet. I think it was good to keep it completely PG-13. Although, there may or may not have been some nipple slips and what appeared to be a little girl on girl petting as we readied for bed.  

                They left in the morning and I slipped Kira a $100 bill.

                ‘Get y’all something nice,” I said.

                Kira took the cash and smiled, and then ran to meet up with Emily at the car. I closed the door and went to get ready for the day.

                The night of prom, I was getting dozens of texts from both Emily and Kira. There was a lot of excitement. It was a huge right of passage. Part of me had felt guilty about not going. During the day I had actually when and talked to the big boss about it. He just laughed. I didn’t get any further than expressing my thought about going. I dropped it to spare myself any more ridicule.

                I had not given the girls any direction other than to enjoy the night. I can be rigid and demanding, but I also try to be fair. I know that you have to show faith and trust in a person, or else you risk resentment. I had full trust in Kira, but I had far less trust in Emily. She had done well with over the previous weeks. She had denied herself the pleasures of sex, even under duress from her boyfriend. She said she combated the urges by getting off early in the morning and late in the evening. Her boyfriend had no clue. She also slept in an old raggedy sweat suit that looked like something her mom wore back in the 1980’s. In fact, I’m pretty certain it had belonged to her mother at one point.

                I had stayed at the office and was playing games on my backup computer. I heard a slight knock and then the door handle jiggled.

                “Bo,” I heard a female voice say. It wasn’t either Emily or Kira.

                The door opened a little bit and I heard my name again.

                “Yea?” I answered.

                A short blonde-haired woman ducked around the door and stood a few feet in from it. As the hydraulic arm pulled it closed, the figure was stood a few feet into the office. Awash in a bath of dull blue light from the nearby monitor. I could barely make out any other features other than the hair. She moved closer and I could tell it was Emily’s mother, Sandy.

                “Mr. Bo,” she started, “You have a minute?”

                “Sure,” I said, trying to play off any awkwardness I was feeling at the idea of a woman twenty years my senior calling me sir. Not to mention the fact that I was routinely using her daughter to get me off.

                “It just started raining and I have some stuff I need to get to my car,” she said. “Would a big strong man like yourself be able to help me out?”

                She was laying it on thick, but she was telling the truth, her blonde locks glistened a shimmering color of grey. Her curls seemed matted and frayed as well. The fact that she was standing in the exact spot I had her daughter naked weeks before didn’t escape me either.

                I smiled.

                “Sure,” I said.

                I followed her out of the office, to her cubicle, and then out the side door and into the parking lot. She had some old paper boxes she had broken down. I’m guessing she needed me more for my badge since with it I could bypass going out the front door that required a swipe card.

                Every motion and every word Sandy employed she used as a sexual weapon. Emily had told me that they had been evicted once because her mom opted to buy breast implants as opposed to paying the rent. Sandy had bought a few months by performing favors for the landlord, before finally her services couldn’t keep up with the outstanding balance of her bill. She was a whore in every sense. She bartered and traded her body for whatever she desired. I was immune to her wiles though.

                Sandy couldn’t manipulate me. Yes, she could get me to carry boxes for her, but that’s just me being polite and being courteous. She was Emily’s mother also, and I did sort of see helping her as paying off some of the service her daughter had provided. When we reached the car and she gave me that seductive grin, I had to question whether she knew what I had her daughter do for me. I had to ask if she cared? Would she be jealous? In that moment, Sandy became the most desirable woman in the world for me.

                I handed the boxed over to Sandy after she had popped the trunk. I had moved to put them in myself, but she pushed herself in between the car and I and insisted she do it. I didn’t argue.

                She turned and bent down, as she did her ass brushed against my groin. I put my hand on her hip and she pushed her ass further into. We sat there for a few moments, her working her ass against me. I ran my hand along her side and across her breasts, before pulling her up and to me. She spun and we were face to face.

                She smiled, and I smiled.

                I leaned in and she did as well. I brushed my cheek passed her puckering lips and my mouth found her ear.

                “You’re too easy,” I said.

                Sandy stopped and like a deflated balloon she sank down on the lip of the trunk. Her eyes looked through me and off into the distance.

                “You insult me,” I told her. “You’re just another whore.”

                I walked off.

There was truth to what I told her. Too much truth and she didn’t deserve it. Walking back, I cursed myself because I was disappointed in how I handled the situation. It wasn’t so much that I was disappointed in her, I was disappointed in myself. I had lost control of the situation and let her progress things. I didn’t know what her angle was. I didn’t know if this was her attempt to create a wedge between her daughter and I, or if she was legit trying to get me to fuck her. All I knew, was I should have been the bigger person. Most importantly, I shouldn’t ever be so easily triggered. Yea, she’s a whore. She doesn’t need me to tell her that. Now she knew what I thought, and that gave her a sort of control.

There’s power in knowledge. There’s power in know what someone thinks of you. It changes how people approach and respond to you. Whatever the future held; I knew now I would have to keep an eye on Emily’s mom.

When I got back to the office, I knew something was amiss. The front monitor was off and the room was completely dark. I reached for the switch but my hand found flesh instead. I felt an arm around me that ushered me a few steps forward. I heard the industrial lock on the door snap violently shut. I heard a giggle. I was now standing in the approximate place both Emily and her mother had stood. A soft glow started emanating from behind my desk. I could make out two figures, and then I put it together.

“Girls,” I said, “What’s going on?”

The light was bright enough to where I could see Emily and Kira seated on my desk facing me. Emily was wearing a black lingerie number minus the panties. Sheer black lace hugged her sides and crossed over just above her exposed navel. The top was sheer and practically see through, which didn’t really matter because the cut of the lace across her breasts was cut so low that half the nipple and above was visible. Very little was left to the imagination. It screamed sex.

Kira’s outfit was a stark contrast, it was white and more elegant. A fancy floral pattern shimmered in the glow of the light. Her hair was pulled back and a long thick black braid that ran down her back. Her panties were missing too.

“What’s this?” I asked just trying to say something and regain some control of the situation.

“It’s an after-prom party,” Kira answered.

“After prom orgy,” Emily corrected.

I liked the sound of that. I also liked the motif, the white and black.

“White for good girl?” I asked. “Black for bad girl?’

“Close,” Emily answered. She hoped down from the desk and walked over to me. She handed me a small black bundle. I opened it, and turning it into the soft glow of the distant light I could see that it was a matching pair of panties, but I could also see white embroidery running across the top, the word “WHORE,” was emblazoned on the panties. I smiled and immediately realized I was fully erect.  I didn’t know if was the fact that there were two nude women before me, or if it was just a simple word that excited me. It wasn’t an answer I cared to figured out in the moment.

Kira handed me her pair; the word “VIRGIN” was stitched in black across her pair.

“Whore,” I said, looking at Emily. She smiled.

“Virgin,” I said, looking to Kira. She smiled as well.

I nodded to Kira and then to Emily. My desk wasn’t a normal business desk. Working in IT, I routinely need a lot of room to bring in and set up equipment. The desk was massive and it was sturdy. It cut an L shape across more than half of my office. The side facing the wall was where my work computer and back up computer were setup. The right side was completely open and faced the door. This was where I had my way with Emily weeks before. Where I left her yearning and shaking. A lot had changed in that time. My opinion of her was one of those things.

The dynamic between Kira and Emily had surprised me. I had anticipated Emily would be much more dominant. In fact it had been Kira that took the lead. Perhaps it was her familiarity with me and knowing how I like things to proceed that gave her the courage, but she was guiding Emily onto the top of the desk. I liked to watch.

I sat down behind my desk and watch as Kira pushed Emily’s face into her crotch. She looked me in the eye and ground her face hard.

I unzipped my pants and pulled my cock out stroking it slowly and feeling it grow harder in my hand.

“First time to eat pussy?” I asked Emily.

She shook her head but her lips didn’t leave Kira’s lips. Kira laid back and kept a steady hand on the back of Emily’s head. I got out of my seat and dropped my jeans and boxer-briefs to the floor. I continued to stroke myself as I made my way to the edge of the desk overlooking the action. Kira was there with an eager mouth. There was a sense of relief when the warm wet sensation overtook it. I knew it would take long for me to cum, I was pretty worked up.

“I think Kira needs to eat some pussy,” I said.

Emily stopped and cast Kira a glance. Kira nodded and slipped around Emily who took the spot before me. Without a word Emily took up the task of servicing my cock, and Kira buried her head in Emily’s bare muff. I could feel the sensation as Kira penetrated Emily’s young mound with her tongue. The feeling traveled through Emily like an aftershock and the energy made its way all the way to my member which had taken up residence in Emily’s mouth. Several moments had passed and Emily lost focus. I pushed my cock deeper into her mouth and throat. She didn’t resist nor did she offer any assistance. Her mouth was just a void, a hole to use for my pleasure. I pushed in harder and at a faster pace. Emily shook and spasmed, then settled down. Kira must have hit the spot.

                I slowed my thrusts and focused on Kira working. She would occasionally look up to me for guidance or an occasional word of encouragement. I offered her my “Bo smile” as she called it. A crooked sly smile that usually meant I was up to no good. In this case I was up to good and bad.

                I reached over the desk and with both hands I grabbed both of Emily’s feet and pulled them back towards me. Emily’s asshole was fully exposed.

                “Eat it,” I ordered.

                Kira dove in tongue first, pushing against the insides of Emily’s asshole. Emily instinctively lurched forward and her back arched.

                “Never had you ass serviced?” I asked as I pulled further back on her feet and forcing Kira’s tongue deeper into her ass.

                I found that I could control the arching of Emily’s back by how far I pulled her feet and manipulated the leverage between Kira’s mouth and Emily’s ass. Different angles elicited a different response. After a few moments I had seen enough and was done playing. I had Kira kiss Emily for good measure and then had her ride me while facing away as I sat back in my office chair. I could feel myself building up to climax and so I slowed Kira down and gave her a slight tap. She stood up and motioned for Emily. I pulled Emily to me, she crawled into my lap and tried to quickly push it in. It was a little to wide for her. She tried again. My bare cock was well lubricated from my precum and Kira’s juices. Emily pushed down hard and I grabbed her on either side of her waist and offered assistance. It was like a firework that went off in her when she finally pushed down and my cock pushed deep into her insides. I couldn’t contain it any longer. Emily ground into me and lifted her hips.

                “You feel so good,” she said.

                Emily ground harder and faster. I kept my hands on her hips and used them to alternate the depth. Deep then shallow. I would almost come completely out of her pussy and the juxtaposition of the cool office air and the warmth of her vagina created an insane combination. I was close to cumming again, and I tried to use my hands to slow her down so I could regain my composure, but she was locked in. This fierce animalistic look had filled her eyes. She grunted and ground deeper into. My cock throbbed. I took a deep breath to tried to focus, but then Emily’s body just went limp and she collapsed against me. I could feel the muscles of her vagina tensing and then releasing. I could feel her legs quivering. I worked her hips back and forth with my hands a few times and was able to make a second deposit. Emily moaned. She was exhausted. I felt Kira on the side of me and I reached out and put my arm around her.

                Emily’s head lifted. Her glossy eyes met mine. She smiled.

                “Was I a good whore?” she asked.

                “The best,” I said.

                Emily laid her head back on my chest and I knew we were finally on the same page.

               

 

 

 

               

               

               

                Emily was a simple girl. A cute dirty blonde that usually found herself going with the flow. She was always easy to persuade and never was one to really say no. Emily was a slut. She would never admit it, nor would she ever allow herself to consider it. She was a carbon copy of her mother, and that sort of bred in her a certain level of denial.

                We worked at a large employer in a small town. I worked in the IT field and therefore as the site's System Administration I was considered management. It wasn't that I had to be completely hands off with the employees, I just couldn't get caught up in the daily gossip mill or scandals. It was during one of our meetings that our big boss was outed for banging Emily's mother. This created a bit of unknown conflict because the second in charge had actually hooked up with Emily's mom a couple weeks before. We all knew because they wound up in a back room at my friend’s house. Scandal and gossip ensued.

                I liked Emily. She was sweet, came off as naive, and to hear her tell it she was practically virginal. I knew better. I let her maintain the charade, primarily because she happened to be my girlfriend's best friend. I had confided in Kira what I had seen those weeks before between Greg and Emily's mom. I didn't really care if Emily was told. I just wanted myself insulated from it if it did get out.

                Early one morning I get a phone call from Emily. She hysterical and crying. Kira was immediately suspicious because Emily called me and not her. Through Emily's hysterics, I make out Josh and bleeding. Moments later the phone goes dead. I look at Kira, relay to her what was said. Kira took a deep breath and exhaled sharply.

                "I know what this about," she said.

                "Her mom?" I asked. My thoughts immediately seized the first connection I could come up with.

                Kira shook her head. "She's with Josh tonight," she said.

                "Like my friend Josh?" I asked.

                Kira nodded.

                "Why?" I asked. "Don't she have a boyfriend and isn't Josh like twice her age? She's still in High School."

                Kira reminded me that she was still in high school and that they both were 18. I conceded just as my phone rang again. It was Josh.

                "Hey man," he said in a quiet hushed tone. "Can you come get this crazy bitch?"

                "Dude, it's 3AM."

                "She's threatening to call the police man," he offered.

                "Fuck," I said. "Put her on."

                After a few seconds Emily's whimpers could be heard followed by a series of sniffs.

                "Hello?" she said softly.

                "You good?" I asked.

                "No," she said. "

                I calmed her down with a promise that we would come pick her up. Kira and I threw on clothes and within about twenty minutes had pulled up at Josh's trailer. Emily was seated on the wooden steps alone, draped in an oversized hoodie. She had pulled her bare legs up underneath and sat their shivering.

                As she stood up to come greet us, the hoodie shifted up and it was apparent that Emily was nude.

                "Get her in the car," I directed Kira.

                She nodded and moved to intercept Sarah.

                I kept walking past and up the stairs and knocked loudly on the metal door. Josh cracked the door and peered out. We both watched Kira put Emily in the car.

                "What the fuck happened?" I asked. "Why am I getting drug out here at this time of the night?"

                "She's fucked in the head man," he said.

                Josh and I stepped inside his trailer. It was rife of skunk weed and sex.

                "From the smell of it, it was a productive night," I said.

                He shrugged as he moved over to the couch and grabbed a bundle of clothes.

                "These are hers," he offered as he reached out to give them to me. I took them.

                "So, what exactly happened?"

                "I don't know man," he started. "she wanted to do some rapeplay shit. Like hold her down and fuck her."

                "Yea," I said. "I get it."

                "Everything was cool, but then she started fighting more," he said. "Then she asked if I

thought her mom was hot."

                "What you say?"

                "Man, I thought it was part of the thing," Josh said. A slip of embarrassment could be seen in his face.

                "Oh, fuck," I said. "You didn't?"

                "I did"

                I took a deep breath. For the most part I tried to avoid the he said she said, who is hooking up with whom in the work space type stuff. Then it flashed to me, a conversation I had with Emily a few weeks prior. She had seen messages from Josh on her mother’s phone. She had grilled me about if I knew anything was going on. I hadn't put it all together, had no reason to. As far as I knew, Josh wasn't even really acquainted with Emily. While we all worked in the same building for the same company, each of them worked on different sides of the building. They didn't even share the same friends.

                Josh had fucked Emily's mom on the same couch he was fucking Emily. I'm not sure if that had fully registered with her or it was the shock of just finding out the man inside you had been inside your mother as well. Emily was triggered pretty hardcore. Josh had turned around and showed me the scratch marks all on his back. Some of it no doubt was from the CNC play, but I figured the deep cuts coursing across his lower side were the ones after his little admission.

                I shook my head.

                "Man, she just flipped out on me," he said. "I didn't rape her."

                "Anything else of hers?" I asked.

                Josh shook his head.

                Kira sat in the back of the car with Emily. I asked about going to the hospital and Emily was adamant that she just wanted to go to my house and get a bath.  I drove her to my house.

                The girls went into the bathroom and I heard the shower kick on. I laid down in the bed room and turned on the TV. I must have dozed off, because I found myself being awoken by Kira and ushered into the bathroom. When I got in there, it was fogged up by steam, but I could see Emily standing nude in front of the bathroom sink.

                "She wanted you to look," Kira said in a disapproving tone.

                "What am I looking at?" I asked.

                Emily stepped forward and point to a bruise on her inner thigh, about five inches below her vagina. She twisted and contorted and gave me every angle of both the bruise and her body.

                "A bruise?" I asked.

                Emily nodded as though she were three. I looked to Kira and shrugged.

                "Let's go put you in bed," Kira said. She pulled at Emily who was resistant to budge, but then relented.

                I sat in the fog for several moments trying to collect my thoughts and make sense of what had happened. All the pieces where there, it was just that early in the morning I was having problems putting them all together.

                Kira came back into the bathroom. She pushed off her sneakers and pulled down her yoga pants.

                "Geez Bo," she said. "You're already worked up?"

                It took me a moment, but following her eyes, I felt it. I was pushing against the inside of my sweat pants. I pushed it to the side and Kira smiled. She came over and kissed me and then rubbed the bulge in my pants gently, before giving it a few light taps.

                "Down boy," she whispered.

                It was dark and Kira guided me to the bed and pulled me to the edge of the bed. I could see the silhouette of Emily's naked body on the opposite side. A light glow always filled the room. After a few moments your eyes would adjust and you could see everything.

                Kira pulled my pants to my knees and I worked them the rest of the way down and then off. I crawled in beside her.

                "We have a rule right?"

                I nodded.

                "If it's hard, it's my job to take care of?" she asked not expecting a response. "Like a good wife?"

                I nodded again and Kira disappeared beneath the covers.

                It was a game we had played. We had a drunken discussion about how great the dynamic had been in the 50's. There was an appealing simplicity to it. Two people that understood and accepted their roles. Our game had progressed to the point where Kira would actually dress the part on Friday nights and we would play house for the weekend. One of the rules that had come out of our game was the one she was in the process of following.

                "If it's hard," she had said that night.

                "You make it soft." I had continued.

                The memory of those words brought a smile to my face. I looked over and Emily appeared to be a sleep. Her eyes were closed and she looked peaceful. She breathed in and out in a rhythmic pattern. Her young firm breast glistening. She shifted over onto her back exposing a shallow strip of pubic hair.

                Kira had been using her mouth to toy with the shaft of my cock. Stoking more life and blood into it. The sight of Emily's nubile body had completed the process and my dick was fully hard. With a soft thrust up, I gave Kira the quit fucking around signal. She responded by sliding her tongue up and I was soon overcome by the warm wet sensation of my cock penetrating her mouth. She knew how I liked it.

                I closed my eyes and focused on the sensation of her mouth exploring my throbbing member. She made sure to shift her mouth from licking and sucking my shaft, balls, and tip as a way to alter sensations for each. I had trained her early on, and she was always eager to learn.

                Kira's mouth traversed my shaft once again, this time heading further down. A quick kiss to my balls and then she kept going lower.

                "Oh, you're dirty," I whispered and I shifted my hips down and lifted my legs.

                Kira nodded and licked the perimeter of my asshole before pushing her tongue into it. She used her left hand to stroke me. I moved the cover to the side and grabbed the back of her head. With a quick thrust I pushed my ass into her and forced her head deeper at the same time. She didn't miss a beat.

                It was then my attention shifted to Emily. He eyes were the size of silver-dollars. She had a cockeyed smile on her face. The cover I had discarded was now covering her bottom half. I wasn't sure if I had tossed it atop of her or she had grabbed it and covered up. Her hand beneath it was working at a feverish pace, and her chest was flush red. My eyes lingered on the action beneath the covers and then working their way up the rest of her body, to her flat perfect stomach, her fist sized fleshy mounds, and those pink slivers that look like half moons. Then there were her eyes.  They were locked on mine. A quick glance down and I took the bait. Emily pushed the cover to the side and exposed herself completely.

                I eased Kira's hand off my cock and took over stroking. Kira knew I was ready to get off and her enthusiasm doubled. I stroked hard and fast, and it seemed Emily was trying to match me stroke for stroke. I could feel the pressure in my loins building. Emily grew bold and shimmied closer. She took my hand and pressed it against her chest. I came.

                Without missing a beat Kira came up and cleaned the load off my stomach and milked for whatever remained within my cock.

                "Good girl," I said.

                A giddy Kira squealed and crawled up and nestled into my arm. She laid her head on my chest.   

                "I love that," she said.

                "Good girl?" I asked.

                "Well yea," she answered. "But no, the sound of your heartbeat."

                I pulled her against me.

                Emily's eyes were fixated on mine. She had pulled the cover over her entire body, but offered me a brief flash.

                "Enjoy the show Em?" Kira asked.

                "What show?" Emliy asked sleepily.

                "I forgot you were there," Kira laughed.

               

                Kira was the first girl I really felt like I owned completely. She was quiet and unassuming, but when tasked or asked to do something she had this unbridled enthusiasm. We didn't have a specified dynamic. I just knew we fit.

                The two girls were gone by the time I rolled out of bed.  I could vaguely remember them shuffling out and Kira's gentle peck on my forehead.

                "Sleep well babe," she had whispered.

                I hadn't been up long before my phone started ringing. It was Josh. He tried to make idle small talk, but I could tell he was really wanting to discuss what had happened and more importantly what Emily had said. I briefly filled him in and told him all was good. Emily had come here and gotten a shower.

                "She stayed with you?" he had asked.

                "Yea," I said. "Took a while for Kira to calm her down."

                "Bullshit," he fired off. I could tell there was a hint of anger in his voice.

                "What's that about?" I asked.

                Josh was quiet for moment. Perhaps hearing his accusatory tone had shocked some sense into him.

                "Actually she showed off her cunny," I said with a smile, "Then I fucked her raw while Kira ate my ass."

                There was another pause, this time a bit longer than the previous. It was getting to the point of being awkward when Josh burst out in a laughter.

                " Damn dawg," he said. "That's harsh."

                Josh's laugh trickled to a low giggle.

                "So, what the deal?"  I asked.

                "Crazy as it sounds, I like the girl," Josh confided. "I know it's stupid."

                "She's crazy and you're stupid," I countered. "Makes perfect sense to me."

                "Emily's just so hot," he said.

                "Then fuck her," I offered, "but keep me and Kira out of it."

                "I will man." he promised.

               

                The next few weeks Josh grew a bit distant. I had to think it was because of Emily. I would see him at work and the usual banter was gone. Emily had gone dark as well, Kira surmised the two must have patched things up and for whatever reason were keeping thing hush hush. I confessed to Kira that it may have been my doing, I explained to her that I had told Josh to keep me out of their issues. If they were together, then Josh was keeping his word.

                Months passed and Kira and I found things were breaking down. Nothing I said seemed to be right, and she stayed in a bad mood. It didn't help that I was working a lot more hours prepping for a huge upgrade at the site. I was going in late and staying early into the morning.

                Late one night I heard a heard a weak knock on my door. I had the light out and was playing games on a backup PC I had.

                "Come in," I called.

                The door eased open and Emily ducked in.

                "You busy?" she asked.

                I paused my game, "No what's up?"

                Emily let the door go and the tension bar pulled it closed. Emily stood in the glow of the front monitor. She had a white tank on that was pulled down over short booty shorts. Not typical work attire.

                "Just seeing what you were up to," she answered.

                "Hanging out with Josh tonight?" I teased.

                A look of revulsion overtook her face. "No," she said defiantly. "Why would you think that?"

                "I just figured ya'll were hooking up," I said.

                "Why would you think that?"

                "You guys kinda went dark after that night," I offered.

                Emily's mouth curled up and deep wrinkles worked their way across her forehead. I recognized this as her thinking face. Was she thinking of the answer or was she thinking of how the spin it. That was the question. Finally, the ridgeline above her brow smoothed.

                "Kira didn't tell you?" she asked.

                "Tell me what?"

                "She told me to stay away from you," she answered.

                I was a bit taken aback by this news. I couldn't figure out what would have prompted Kira to have this discussion. The idea had crossed my mind that maybe Kira was a bit put off about Emily seeing us fuck, but Emily wasn't the first, and there had been instances where other girls had been actually involved.

                "Why?"

                "She's always been kind of intimidated by me," Emily started. "She's the tall pretty but awkward red head, and I'm the fun blonde."

                I nodded. What she was saying was true.

                "Guys just always go for the blonde it seems," Emily finished.

                "But I don't have anything for you," I offered tersely.

                Emily's eyes looked down and searched the floor. Her face was solemn. I hadn't answered how she had hoped. The thing with Emily, she loved attention. She was a black hole for it, she sucked in all the good intent and compliments and just locked them away in an infinite void somewhere within.

                Emily was a liar. If she had one skill it was deflecting and sucking people into her excuses. She was like spider constantly spinning lie after lie.  I had caught her in some on numerous occasions. She would deny fucking guys I knew good and well she fucked.  On several occasions I had seen the pictures. Emily played the played the victim role to a tee. Even now, she was trying to manipulate me. Her pouty lip, the slight shifting of her left foot back and forth. She was acting like a disappointed little girl. I wasn't buying it.

                She had been honest about one thing though; Kira was jealous and a little insecure when she was around Emily. I had stoked the jealousy a little bit. At times I could be an asshole, with Kira however, I pushed her to recognize her own beauty.

                "She's been with all these guys, yet they just keep flocking to her," Kira has said one night when Emily was playing two guys against each other. Kira and I had sat back and watched the competition and discussed how clueless Emily's boyfriend had to be.

                "He knows," Kira had confided. "He's caught her several times, but he always takes her back."

                Emily was attractive and likely the best he could ever do. When he was home Emily played the good little housewife role, but when he was away all bets were off. I had to agree with Kira I didn't understand why the guys flocked to her.

                "What do you want?' I asked Emily.

                She looked up from the floor.

                "I don't want to say," she said.

                "Why?"

                "It should be you asking," she responded.

                "I don't ask and I don't chase," I countered.

                She smiled.

                "I want to be yours," she finally relented.

                Emily took a step towards the desk and then came around it. I turned my chair so that she was directly in front of me. She continued coming forward and stopped when she was standing between my knees. I looked up at her. It wasn't far, she was a short girl, barely over five foot. I considered what to do. I knew I wasn't going to fuck her. However, if she wanted to be mine, then there were ways she could prove that. I didn't delude myself; I knew any claim I had on her would evaporate once she walked out of the office. Still, I had to do something.

                "Go lock the door," I commanded. She complied.

                When she got to the door, I heard the latch engage. Emily turned to walk back.

                "Stop," I said. She did as I ordered.

                I stood up and walked around the table. Emily had stopped equal distance between the door and the desk. I walked to her and pushed myself against her and then leaned in.

                "You know how I like it?" I whispered.

                Emily nodded.

                "You like it your way," she answered softly.

                "You came here to get fucked tonight?"

                She nodded again.

                I could tell she was anxious. Her body swayed and she seemed to bob up and down like a cork in the water. I slid the tank up and over her shoulders. She wasn't wearing a bra, that was pretty obvious when she had first walked in. It was the first clue as to her intent. I then pushed my body against hers from behind and settled back into me. I pushed my arms underneath hers and my hands met at the button on her shorts. With a quick flick they fell to the floor.

                I moved back to the desk and observed her in the blue tinted glow from the nearby monitor. She was perfect. Her body was immaculate, those fist sized breasts, and the way her abdomen tapered down to her hips than then flared out providing the structure for a nice firm ass.

                "What do I like?" I asked. I had an idea of the answer provided Kira had told her.

                "Pictures and swallowing sir," she answered and she was right.

                I grabbed my phone and lifted it up. Emily flinched and started to cover, but stopped and looked her over. Her response was involuntary. A reflex.

                "Sorry," she offered.

                I snapped a picture of her full front. The flash lit up the office. I made a spinning signal with my finger and she turned around so that the back was facing me. I took another picture.

                "Turn around," I ordered. She quickly complied.

                The thing with Emily, I had always picked up a submissive streak with her. Thing is, the only sort of attention she knew from guys was sexual. So, there were no other layers. She was a fleshy husk that was used to get men off. Part of this idea repulsed. Part of it excited me. I knew I had to push her though. Push her to see if she would cave and run away, or if she would standfast and take whatever I could dish out.

                "Do you like the idea of Josh's dick being in your mom and then being in you?" I asked.

                A stunned look crossed Emily's face. She met my eyes to see if I were serious or if there was a hint of a joke in them. I was being serious. Emily held firm. She couldn't form the words.

                "I ask and you nod, okay?" I said.

                She nodded.

                "Did you like Josh's dick inside you?"

                She nodded again.

                "Do you visualize his dick in your mother."

                Another nod.

                I clicked my phone over to video mode and lifted it. Emily's eyes followed the phone and then turned to me. There was a pleading look in her face. I knew I had to press harder. I knew I was on to something. I needed to unlock a door that she had always been scared of. The red light flickered on the phone and indicated it was recording.

                "Say you're slut," I said sternly.

                "I'm a sl-" she started.

                "Say you're a whore and fucking slut," I demanded.

                Emily looked at me. She held her gaze and I could see a hint of bashfulness, her skin was flush, but more importantly I could see a slip of a smile. She rocked back and forth, the anxious energy building.

                "I'm a whore and a fucking slut," she blurted out so fast I could barely make it out.

                "Again," I ordered. "Slower this time."

                "I'm a whore," she said. This time much slower, but not so slow to not be natural. "And I'm a fucking slut."

                "Good girl," I commended.

                Emily smiled.

                "Now, say you fucked a cock that's been in your mother," I said.

                Without hesitation, "I fucked a cock that was in my mother."

                I smiled.

                I clicked the video recorded off. Emily's smiled melted away, and I could tell she was feeling exposed now. Not just on a physical level, but a mental one as well. As I looked her over, I couldn't help but think of what Josh had told me a long while back. One of the factors that led him to choosing which girls he hooked up with.

                "Broken girls are fun," he had offered.

                "I guess we're all broken in some way," I had added.

                Emily was broken. She never knew any better because her mom had molded her much in her image. Emily approached life and sex, much like her mother. I recognized that craving both in the mother and daughter. It was uncanny the way they both carried themselves in the same situation. Nude and the center of male attention. I considered telling Emily about the night Josh had fucked her mom. We were all over at Josh's trailer. It was most of the management staff minus the big boss, plus Kira and one of her friends. We had been at the bar earlier and had decided it was too early to call it a night.

                Emily's mom had come on very strong, she was all over everyone. A true social butterfly.

                "It's martini night!" she had screamed before taking a tumble out front of the bar before being helped into the car by Josh. It was a sad display, but it's something that played out over and over with different places and different people.

                Seeing Emily standing before me, it was then I put it together. Should I pity her, or should I help her? Could I even help her?

                "Do you believe you're a slut?" I asked.

                She was quiet. As if formulating the response in her head.

                "Are you a slut?" I asked again.

                She nodded reluctantly.

                "Good," I responded. "It important we know what we are."

                Emily looked up. Her eyes had been stripped of any enthusiasm or excitement. My questioning had left her down, being forced into self-introspection had let loose emotions and feelings she fought to bury.

                "You're going to be my slut," I said.

                A slight smile creased her face.

                "You like that?"

                She nodded enthusiastically. Her blue eyes shimmered like diamonds.

                I wasn't completely sure what I meant, or what I would do with her. I had toyed with control and dominance, but I had never fully committed to it. While Kira and I had our ways, it's wasn't a true dynamic. The words Dom and sub had never been uttered by either of us. I knew Emily would be a step for me. A step I had to be careful taking. For all her bluster and seemingly carefree attitude when it came to sex, I knew Emily was very fragile. I knew then I had to deprive her of the one thing she was quick to trade for male attention. I had to deny her sex.

                "Take it out," I said followed by a quick glance down to my crotch.

                Emily didn't hesitate, her hands where whipping back the black leather strap of my belt and feeding it through the buckle in a matter of seconds. I had to use my hand to slow her down as she pulled my cock out and bent to put it in her mouth.

                "No," I ordered.

                I grabbed her by her waist and spun her around so that she was facing away from me. I brushed my member across her ass. She moaned gently. I stopped.

                "Right now, there's nothing fake," I said. "The moment you lie or fake, we're done."

                I pushed against her from behind. My cock rested between her thighs and my head nibbled at her vagina. I grabbed a fistful of her dirty blonde hair and leaned forward.

                "You understand me?" I whispered.

                "Yes sir," she stammered.

                I rocked back and forth on the balls of my feet. Toying with her. I could her inner thighs grow warm and moist.

                "No man see's you naked," I said. "No man penetrates you."

                She nodded.

                "Why?" I asked.

                "I'm yours," she answered.

                "You're my what?"

                "I'm your slut, sir,' she offered.

                "And that's all you are,"

                I moved around her and stood before her. She was actually taller than I had thought. My chin would rest comfortably on her head without any need to bend over. She stood still. Her eyes would dart from side to side and then look up to mine.

                I walked Emily back a couple steps and push her against the desk. Without any further prompt she shimmied up and settled on top of it. With an open hand, I gave her a firm push to the chest and she laid back. Instinctively she spread her legs as if opening the way and giving permission for me to penetrate her. I didn't take it.

                I closed her legs and walked around to the other side of the desk. Emily was confused. I looked down at her, she was mine for the taking.

                "You have value," I said. "That pussy has value."

                Emily’s face scrunched and those blue diamonds flattened into dark slivers. She was thoroughly confused.

                I let the moment pass. It wasn't something I could explain. It was something she had to learn. I reached down and grabbed my cock and began to work my hand back and forth. I looked over Emily, and took a mental note. In this moment she was perfection to me.

                I came quick and I came on her face. To some that might seem anticlimactic, but for me it was anything but. It was the right decision at this particular time. I needed to change the script, to make, no to force her to rethink what she knew about sex. Tonight, she was an object. On many nights she had been an object to many different guys. Tonight, was different. Tonight, she was mine, and tonight I did what I pleased.

                Emily pushed scraped and pushed my load into her mouth. There was a blank stare, the same stare I had seen post coitus during many encounters. Emily was completely exposed and vulnerable. She felt it. So, I zipped my pants, turned off my computer monitor, and left her there to wallow in that feeling. I left without a word, but as I opened the door, I took one look back. The light from outside of the office bathed her in a golden glow and I could see was smiling and playfully licking what remained of my load from her fingers.

                She was content.

               

 

 

               

                                 

               

               

               

               

The skin of her backside ripples;
an involuntary reaction to my touch.
It's a beckoning call for more.
My wandering hands explore.
Sheepish moans are my guide
through valleys and mounds of tepid flesh.
Her eyes flutter as I trace the ridge-line of her bottom.
Muscles tense in an anticipatory way,
before culminating in impact.
A soft smile crawls across her face.
The release is slight,
but the night is still young.

 

Several discussions the past couple of days have brought up the idea of damage. Damage is something most sort of push or pack away into the dark recesses of their mind and do their best to forget about. Unfortunately, it just lingers and grows if not dealt with appropriately.
Damage can be something a small, a ill placed scar with a particularly gnarly story. A scale showing a few too many pounds. It can something in your head, an emotional landmine just waiting for some unsuspecting soul to come along and trigger. Sometimes, we know they are there, we can maneuver and manipulate it. Other times we can't.

The mind is a very tricky and resilient organ. It can warp our worldview, and make us susceptible to hidden dangers. When I was younger, I dated this girl who couldn't sit still. She had to keep moving, keep herself occupied. When she did slow down, this sort of morose sadness overtook her. She said it was like she was drowning.

I'm a fixer. I've always tried to fix things. So naturally, I tried to fix her. She had pretty rough childhood. We started there. I sort of bumbled my way through the process at the time. I had her trust, so I was able to open her up, and sort of dredge out all these deep seated insecurities. Our relationship strengthened because of it. Me knowing her damage, accepting it, helped her trust and open up more to me. It was the first time I felt like I had a relationship were we could say whatever. No secrets between us.

When I was in the Air Force, the one thing they tried to do was break us down and expose us mentally. They did this by pushing our minds and bodies to the point they they just gave out. All the while they tried to trip us up and trick us.

What I took from this approach was that we all have to be deconstructed and then rebuilt. We have to unpack our damage, process it and then manage it. This is in a sense what a lot of counselors do. They open people up, expose their fears and then talk them through dealing with them. Sometimes all we need is someone to talk to, to just feel like we're being heard. That's where the power of communication comes in.

As a Mental Dom I thrive when it comes to the matters of the mind. It's been a process for me. It takes patience and understanding. It takes a lot of listening. When I was younger, I thought I could fix the damage myself. I was young and misguided. Fixing damage can't be done from the outside, although it can be acted upon by external forces and provoke thought and change. I can nudge and prod with questions and words, but the hard work is done within. It's a healing process as well as an understanding of oneself.

As it relates to BDSM, particularly D/s dynamics. I think there are some s-types that seek this level of understanding. They desire to be seen completely and laid bare so to speak. There's a strength that comes from knowing you're not alone. There's a security that comes from knowing you're not going to be judged for who you are. To be really seen in spite of  all their insecurities and damage, and know they are good enough. That's where the damage can hold some back. It's makes them less sure of themselves and their dynamic. It can cause negative feelings of mistrust and doubt. It hinders the ability to be completely open.

Yet, there's a certain power than can come from being accepted. For me, that's where a dynamic needs to start. Complete exposure. It's shedding the past like a cicada sheds it's shell. A sort of rebirth, only with a kinky twist.

There's a little game I like to play with s-types. It's sort of like people watching, but it's more focused on recognizing dynamics in Vanilla couples. Identifying who is the more Dominant type, and who is the submissive one.

Dynamics are everywhere. Not even just relegated to romatic interactions. Dynamics can exist amongst friends, co-workers, and families. There are just natural born leaders or Alpha types that tend to step up and make decisions. There are also submissive beta types that naturally choose to fall into line and abide by those desicions. It's part of the chemistry that drives interpersonal relationships.

I posted a story last night about one of the more bizarre dynamics I had come across. I tried to keep my story more in the moment, and free from the trappings of the information I found out later. One of the things I learned from this experience though, and the reason I posted the story, is it taught me the way dynamics emotionally feed us. It's why a D-type feels a certain way when they stands before a kneeled sub. It's why a s-type feels a certain way when they successfully completes a given task. It's essentially what makes us do what we do. Kink and all.

I get asked how I commonly meet potentials. Very rarely do I meet someone through sites. Not that I'm opposed to it, it's just I've gotten pretty decent at sizing people up in real life. I need that kind of personal connection. A little over a year ago I met my previous sub, I was actually on a job, and she was a server. We bantered a bit, and I just knew. Later she asked how I knew, I couldn't quite put it into words. Sometimes, you just get a feel, you just know. Is it instinct? Perhaps.

I illustrated it by having her start to take account of the instances during her day that she spotted a dynamic at work. I had her write them down. Whether it was the older lady cutting her husbands meat, or the woman pawning diaper duty off onto her husband, and still to the the little girl who got to choose which colors she wanted first witout a word from the little boy next to her. She saw that dynamics are everywhere.

So, why write about it? Isn't this common knowledge? I suppose it is. I also know, that at times my view of the world differs. I see things from a logic drive mind. I know that these dynamics, if we pay attention can teach us a little about ourselves. It's like learning a new language, only instead of words, we are given nuanced reactions and obscure feelings. What we read in other's we can apply to our own lives and better understand our own dynamics both in the Kink world and Vanilla.