Wicked Writer Blog

Snowballs and Kissing Cousins

 

     College was like a buffet for me. As an English major the majority of my classes were about ninety percent female. The males in my classes tended to be either hyper effeminate, super awkward, or completely disinterested in women all together. I was older, ex-military, and didn’t look like a guy that could quote Dante.

     “You’re like a frat boy, with a geek switch,” Gina had said as she poured me another Crown double.

     Jay laughed. “So, right!” he exclaimed.

     I took a moment to process the description. I could see valid points, but I also wasn’t sure her intent.

     “Does that mean I’m dumb or smart?” I asked.

      “I think it means she can fuck your body and your mind,” Jay offered.

     Gina smiled.

     Gina’s smile of admission was the first indication that there was any serious interest from her. We had been around and around with tons of flirty witty banter, but nothing more than that. We were like two prize fighters sizing each other up, dancing around the center of the ring waiting for the other to make their first move. It wasn’t a matter of me being scared or lacking the courage to move, I felt like it was a more a matter of principle. If she wanted me, she had to show me. There was also the influence of her on-again off-again cousin Jay.

     To this day I’m not sure how Jay fit into the picture. The two were from the same small country town, and to hear them tell it they escaped together and traveled the forty-five minutes down I-55 to attend the same university. Jay was crude, over-the-top, he loved loud colors, and was unabashed about his sexuality. He liked it all. If it got him off, he was game. He and I were kindred spirits in our approach to sexual experience. He just had a preference for big black clocks and I liked my women vulnerable, broken, and down for a good time.

     Gina bar-tended Friday nights at the Applebee’s near my apartment. It was while she was slinging drinks that we had our first ever conversation. We had seen each other in class, but at the start of the semester I had my hands full with a Pre-Med student and a Drama major. Gina was just another cute perky blonde among the ninety-percent.

     My Friday night ritual soon became closing down Applebee’s and then walking across the parking lot with Gina to Daiquiri’s & Crème. After a few weeks of this routine Jay started tagging along like off balanced third wheel. He too was in our class, and my impression of him was a that of a complete prima-donna. I was hyper metro at the time, but he took metro and made it chic.

     Gina and Jay were pretty much inseparable. There were times they claimed to be kissing cousins and other times they mentioned they were just related by marriage. I’m not sure if this was used to excuse the closeness of their relationship. How they would both sleep completely nude in the same bed, or make out during drug fueled binges. There was never a dull moment with them, and I liked that.

     “Cousins are cousins, right?’ I had asked one night.

     Gina skirted the question by running off to the back of the bar, leaving Jay to answer the question that was left hanging there in silence.

     After a long pause, Jay leaned in. “We’ve shared everything,” he said. “We share an apartment, a car, we share drinks, bills, and sometimes men and women.”

     Jay took a long pull off of his Vodka Cranberry. It was as if he were collecting the words in his mind and forming them into a deliberate sentence.

     “I know how it looks,” he said. “We bring it on ourselves. Thing is, we don’t care. It’s who we are.”

     I had nodded, content to let that be it.

     The memory of that question had come back to me. I could feel the shift. Jay was pushing me towards Gina, and Gina was more accepting. Why now?

     “Frat boy with a geek switch?” I asked her.

     Gina smiled a sheepish smile before lifting my glass and wiping the water ring from the bar.

     “Show me your boobs,” I said as she started to set my glass back. It took her a moment to register the demand. She looked up at me and her eyes widened and her jaw dropped open. She then looked to Jay accusingly. Jay threw his hands up signaling it hadn’t come from him.

     “No!” she said in hushed voice just loud and emphatic enough to express her shock and surprise. She immediately looked around, but was she looking around to see if she drew attention, or because she was considering my request?

    Jay seized the moment and put his arm around my neck. “You would deprive this nice hetero male?”

    Gina looked around again.

    “Do it,” Jay ordered. This time in a forceful tone.

    Gina dropped her rag on the bar cooler beneath her, she closed her eyes and lifted her black polo shirt up high enough to where it covered her face and then quickly dropped it back down. The quick action exposed her small perky breasts. Rainbow tipped nipple piercings dominated each one and drew your eye. I had already seen them numerous times. She never wore a bra, so there was a lot of inadvertent flashing whenever she leaned over to pour drinks or pull beer from the coolers. My demand was a test. It was my ways of figuring out the score. I knew flashing wasn’t a huge step, but the fact that it took Jay to push her told me all I needed to know. Jay was in charge.

    This revelation came with some unease. I had picked up on the dynamic between them early on. Gina always looked to Jay for answers and reassurance. When we were alone, she looked to me for similar, but whenever our rickety wheel was rolling with us, Jay was always her first look.  I didn’t like that. I felt machinations around me, like I was being maneuvered and manipulated. Was Gina flirting with me because she liked me, was it because Jay was telling her to, or a little of both?

    These thoughts consumed my mind. I replayed past instances where their dynamic had been exposed. I couldn’t shake the feeling of being handled. My mood had shifted, I could feel it.  I was sure the others could feel it. It was almost like Jay was in lock step with my thoughts.

     “Hey hot thang!” He called loudly to Gina, “Get us shots!”

 

     I was in a much better mindset by the time Jay and I walked to the club next door. That mindset lasted about five feet inside. The club was a funky mix of eighties music, hoochies not old enough to buy alcohol, and much older men posted up on the far wall more than eager to provide said hoochies with all the libations they could handle.

    It was supposed to be club night, but to the owners that meant a cheap eighties tribute band with a name based off some random pop culture reference. The interior of the club was fairly well lit. I immediately got the vibe of a high school prom meets senior citizen dance if that was a thing. To my left the females had all massed near a slightly elevated stage upon which the bad was situated. There wasn’t a lot of dancing. The young women just sort of massed in a large loose huddle they talked and swayed to the beat of the music. There was about a twenty-foot gap from the huddle to the line of middle-aged guys who leaned against the far wall. Most of the guys were past their prime, fossils from an era when this place had been a happening spot a decade before. I couldn’t help but hear Matthew McConaughey’s famous line from Dazed and Confused. I get older, but they stay the same age.

     The stenches of Old Spice and Drakaar Noir dueled in the air and assaulted my nostrils as I stepped further in.

     “The smell of desperation,” Jay said as he breathed in deeply and then offered a flamboyant twist of his head.

    He smiled.

It was now time for him to do his entry walk through the gap that parted the men from ladies. He had told me it was to let all know that he had arrived. I had asked who all was, but he just said everyone. It was an act. I don’t know if he did it for attention, to signal any would be prospects, or to incite the ire of the gaggle of rednecks in the far corner. It was probably a combination of all three. I just hung back. I never needed to make an entrance.

     “Diva time!” He said.

     Jay locked his hips and then began an over exaggerated prance through the no man’s land that awaited. I took a moment to survey things. I scoped out the group of girls, and then made my way over to the bar to wait for Gina who had to close up next door.

    Gina arrived after about twenty minutes. She had slipped on a denim skirt and tight black halter top. She took a look around and just shook her head as she sized up the selection of guys lining the wall behind me.

                “Where’s Jay?” she asked.

                I shrugged my shoulders, “No clue.”

                There was tension between Gina and I. The music didn’t make it easy to converse. We ended up getting drinks and making our way over to watch the band. Gina stood in front of me and sort of leaned back against me. There was something that felt right. I wrapped my left arm around her.

     The first notes of the next song roared from the speakers. The crowd around us cheered. Gina turned and put her arms around me, in that moment I knew exactly what to do and I leaned in and kissed her. It was a soft gentle kiss. Our eyes locked and we kissed again. The crowd around sang the song word for word, it was The Outfields, “Your Love.” It seemed appropriate.

     “You want to use my love?” Gina asked.

     “I want to use all of you,” I said. “I’m greedy like that.”

     “And I like that about you,” she said with a sly smile.

     Gina was quiet, her skin was warm to the touch. Sweat was beading up on her forehead. She wiped it away with her forearm. We stayed there in that moment for several songs. I held her there, our bodies moving in unison to the music.

                “Fuck, it’s hot,” she said. “I’ve to get out of here.”

                Gina pulled away abruptly and made her way to the door. I followed her outside and halfway across the parking lot.

                “What’s up?” I asked.

                Gina stopped as I was walked up behind her. Gina’s eyes were fixated on the pavement and she just shook her head.

                “I’m fine,” she offered.

                “I know better than that,” I countered.

                Gina slowly turned to face me, but wouldn’t look me in my eyes. I stepped close to her and used my index finger to lift her chin. Her eyes were shifty and red.

                “What’s going on?” I asked.

                Gina shook her head.

                “What’s the deal with you and Jay?”

                She looked up, “What do you mean?” she said in a defensive tone.

                “Just asking what’s up there?”

                Gina shook her head again.

                “Just don’t expect me to be around too long,” she answered.

                “Didn’t we just agree on tonight?” I asked jokingly.

                The joke hurt though. I saw Gina’s eyes tighten and grow distant. She brushed passed me and headed back into the club.

                I stayed outside, taking in the night air, and watching various couplings of old men and young women leaving together. At least someone’s getting lucky tonight, I thought.

                I sat down on the curb trying to think about my options. Jay had picked me up earlier in his beat- up Chevy Blazer, so I was essentially stranded. I didn’t want to pressure Gina or impose on Jay. I was stuck, and unsure about what to do about Gina. I had never seen something turn so quickly. I played it back in my head, all I could come up with was that the tender moments between us scared her. Touched something in her. She had to recoil before it became too real.

                My buzz was wearing off, I could feel the tinges of a headache coming on. I needed to drink, a lot. As I made my way back to the door to the club, Jay, Gina, and a heavy-set black guy game busting through the front door.

                “We’re off!” Jay announced.

                “Going to take Vincent home,” Gina said.

                “This is Vincent,” Jay said as he hugged and pointed to the heavy-set man.

                Unsure of the plan or my involvement with it, I just let them pass and head across the parking lot. Jay turned and tossed me the keys. I took that as my cue to drive.

                “Where to?” I asked as I looked at Vincent.

                “Covington,” Jay answered. Just drive down by the armory.

                I nodded. I knew the general area they were talking.

                As we walked to the Blazer Gina was quiet, and remained distant. Jay and Vincent got into the back and Gina went around an took the passenger seat. I wanted to say something, but opted to wait until we were alone. So, I drove.

                The two in the back wasted very little time. We weren’t even out of the parking lot and Jay already had Vincent’s cock in his mouth. I could hear deep guttural moans. Deeper than any sound Jay could produce.

                “Yea, yea,” Vincent whispered.

                I looked over to Gina, her eyes were fixated straight ahead. As if she were either oblivious or ignoring the action behind us. On the long stretch of straight highway that cut through town, I was able to keep an eye on Gina. Her eyes shifted every so often to me, and then back to the road. She never looked back.

                There was loud thump as Vincent had lifted up and hit his head on the roof of the Blazer. Out of instinct I turned to look as Vincent had mounted Jay.  Jays face was pressed into the upholstery and the rest of his body was swallowed by dark brown flesh. Jay exhaled a loud breath as Vincent pushed inside him. He breathed deep and moaned.

                As I returned my attention to the road, my eyes met Gina’s. She was now watching Vincent pound Jay. Her eyes lit up. She smiled and ran her hand along my thigh and then to the growing bulge. She nursed it gently to life. She looked up at me, as if seeking permission. I smiled.

                Gina’s mouth met my cock. I struggled to maintain control. The sensation, though I had expected it, sent a shiver down my legs. I relaxed and let her take me deep in her mouth. Up and down, she worked. She worked the shaft, and then the little sliver of sack that she could reach. She crawled over and propped herself up against the center console. Her rhythm intensified. We hit a red light that came along at an opportune moment. I leaned back and let her work.

                I heard a loud deep moan from the back. In the rear-view I could see Vincent jacking his load into Jay’s mouth, followed by a healthy gulp. The sight and sensation made me harder. Gina noticed.          

                “Use your hand,” Jay directed from the back seat. His flush faced pierce the darkness as he leaned into the front of the vehicle. Gina did as Jay had instructed.

                She pulled her head up and wiped the corner of her mouth before returning her hand to my cock. She worked it up and down, and alternated speeds. The light had long since turned Green. I had enough awareness to pull off into a bank parking lot.

                “Shit man cops,” Vincent had said. No one paid any attention.

                Jay watched as Gina stroked me. At one point dissatisfied with her effort, he reached over and grabbed her forearm and guided her.

                “You want to fuck her?” Jay asked.

                I took a deep breath and focused on the sensation.

                “She will fuck you if you want to fuck,” he said.

                I didn’t respond. I didn’t acknowledge anything he said. I was close and as my load build up I instinctively grabbed the back of Gina’s head and guided her down. She didn’t need much guidance. She took every ounce. As she lifted up and she and Jay shared a look, and then their mouths met.

                “What kinda fucked up white people shit is this?” Vincent said. I wasn’t surprised.

                “Kissing cousins,” I said.

               

               

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It's important to me to have a s-type that knows her value. That's usually a process of it's own. It takes more than compliments and reassurance to instill worth. Those things work in the short term, but longer, the idea of self worth has to come from within. It something discovered, not given.

I think everyone has a hangup. Everyone has that one thing, or perhaps multiple things, that they shy away from showing or keep buried. Whether it's physical or mental, it dogs them, makes them anxious, and makes them constantly question themselves. It lowers their self-esteem and makes them wary of opening up and being exposed. I have found in many of the s-types I've encountered true exposure is their greatest fear.

A lot of us use masks. We use these false facades to distract and hide our true selves. It's important for me to find a way to navigate this wall, to get a peek at the feelings, desires, and insecurities that lie entrenched on the the other side. This isn't the type of wall that can be brought down with wrecking ball, it's the kind of job that requires a hammer, chisel, and time.

Communication is paramount. Openness and honesty help facilitate communication which in turn builds trust. I find each step gratifying and each lesson learned another badge of courage. It's not until we summon enough courage to look within ourselves that we can truly understand our place in a dynamic, a household, or even the world.

I want an s-type that is willing to learn herself. To allow me to guide them on her journey of self-discovery. I want to help her to experience pleasure and pain she didn't know existed. All the while, understanding the motivations behind each want and desire. I want them to know why they want to be wanted. I want them to want me for what I offer, and the stability I provide. I want them to burn with desire, not just for me, but also with their quest to better themselves. I want the best possible version they can submit to me. That's when I feel I have value. That's when I feel it's all worth it.

I study things. It would probably be easier to list the things I don’t study versus what I do. I see the world as a complex puzzle with all these complex pieces moving back and forth. People tend to be the most complex of all, but when you pull back the curtain and get a good peek inside, you learn that while complex they can also be very simple. People can be predictable and are creatures of habit.

Over the years, I’ve made it my mission to try and understand people. As a writer that understanding is critical in trying to develop and create deep and realistic characters. As a Dom I find it’s imperative to knowing how to approach and handle s-types. There are lots of questions I have when I engage with a new potential. How are they submissive? Why are they submissive? Most importantly, what motivates them?

There are any numbers of answers to the first two questions. The How’s tend to factor into how they label themselves. The path their submission took during their journey. Do they like to service or to be cared for? Do they appreciate the safety and security of a dynamic, or is there some deeper feeling that makes them just know it’s right?

The Why’s are equally complex and rooted deep in a person’s psychology. Some seek out reassurance and validation, others desire to replace a dominant force that may be missing from their life, (i.e. a Daddy like figure.) Some may have been abused and find themselves stuck in a perpetual cycle of needing to chase a long dead figment from their past. They are stuck on such feelings like uselessness and worthlessness.

While the first two questions are branching and winding, I find that no matter the answers for those, In my experience there are two primary motivations, Respect or Fear. Now, both can be present in varying degrees, but with most things relative to submission I like to think in terms of a sliding scale versus absolutes. I don’t believe in absolutes. We can’t be shaded in only one color, when there are so many factors that go into our particular and unique makeup. So, when I approach a new potential, the one thing I seek to find out, is what motivates them?

The answer to that question isn’t always apparent. However, in many ways it’s the key to unlocking a person’s submission. For instance, a lot of subs have this drive to feel safe and secure. They like the idea of having a Dominant force that they can lean on, to guide and direct. A force they trust in and has their best interest at heart. These types might find themselves labeled as service type subs and possibly littles. They are driven by desires to please and typically selfless types that usually only require reassurance and validation. They need positive forces to build them up. Now, keep in mind each of these do find themselves on a sliding scale. On one end you have Respect and the other end Fear.

The Respect aspect is the desire to feel wanted and cared for. They typically don’t respond well to conflict in a dynamic. They shrink and cower from it. A “Good Girl” offers validation and can set things right in a dynamic. When things are uncertain, they tend to be unsettled, to the point they try and over-correct perceived flaws. “What can I do better?” It’s more about an aversion to conflict, versus seeking it.

The Fear aspect tends to be the opposite in that these types of subs enjoy conflict. The negative force that comes from deconstructing and breaking down. They enjoy stepping up and feeding off the fear and struggle that can exist in a dynamic. If things get too quiet or tranquil, they will act out to induce a ripple or introduce some sort of adversity. The brat types would have some element of this I suspect. I know there are arguments, that brats aren’t subs, and in part my idea of the sliding scale comes from my experiences with brats. These brats are the ones that want to act out and be cowed. The want to fight and be unruly, but then want to be put in their place. What is used to put them in their place? Strength of personality and fear? Fear is powerful. What’s even more powerful is overcoming it. Sedating and pushing it into the deep dark recesses of your mind knowing that at any moment it could resurface. The fear of losing a Dom could be a very strong motivation.

While, I admit, there’s something deeper beneath the surface when it comes to submission. I do believe that Fear and Respect are two touchstones to help guide you on the correct path to understanding the type of s-type you are dealing with. I also think that it’s a good start for self-introspection.

So, fear and respect? Is there something else, or am I way off base?

 

Sabrina and I had dated for about six months. I was still in the Air Force and was sent on a temporary duty assignment or TDY for short. I was gone for a few months, and over that period the connection between us dissipated to the point where we maybe talked once a week. Even then things were just off, and in our last conversation before I was set to come home, it was clear things between us were dead.

                In the months following my return home I had decided I wasn’t going to re-enlist, and with Mardi Gras coming up I went into short timer mode about 8 months too early. I hadn’t really explored much since Sabrina and I started dating, we had played around with power exchange a bit, but when we were together the passion was white hot and just sort of burned away all hints of anything else. It was pure raw emotion. The type of emotion that completely consumes you at first, but as with most fires that burn fast and hot, without something to sustain them they just burn out. However, my interactions with her and Daphne had awoken something in me. I had these ideas percolating through my mind, and they always left me with one question, was I Dominant?

                The threat of Y2K had recently passed, and the internet wasn’t the resource of information it is now. At least in regards to BDSM.  Aside from my work in IT, I only used the internet for porn. I was one of the first to get a cable surfboard modem, and with it I was able to download jpeg’s and gifs at lightening speeds. No more jerking it to half downloaded pixelated porn. I had all the tits and ass I could ever want just a click away. That’s when it hit me, and I took time to teach myself HTML and started building a web page.

                The idea was to start a TNA page, tits and ass for the uninformed. There were gatekeeper sites that you could link your site to. In turn you got paid based from this gatekeeper for however much traffic and clicks your site brought in. I started off very modestly, had a few public shots of boobs and ass from previous Mardi Gras that I posted and before I knew it, I was pulling in $10 to $15 a week. This gave me an idea.

                Several friends of mine shared my love for photography. It had begun a few years prior when we were too young to actually get into the bars on Bourbon St. A small group of us pervs soon learned the real show was outside on the pavement. It was her all inhibitions were laid bare. There’s something about the atmosphere and the desire to acquire cheap plastic trinkets that drives women insane. I knew with a little direction and hard-work, the sky was the limit of what I could make off the site.

                We hadn’t sooner arrived and started our trek down Bourbon I was accosted by a drunken older woman. She was heavyset and smelled like musk and Big Ass Beers. She was beyond tipsy and with every syllable that came out of her mouth her huge plastic cup of cheap watery beer sloshed about and threatened to douse me.

                “I’ll show you,” she slurred. “The pink ‘uns.”

                The intoxicated woman had pointed to the lone pair of pink rose beads around my neck. I knew these beads were my holy grail. I stacked on about half a dozen other beads that were duplicates, but always kept just one pair of the pink rose ones. I could get almost anything for them on a good night. From the look of the crowd that had already gathered the Friday before Mardi Gras, it looked to be a very good night.

                I shook the woman off, side stepping a violent eruption of frothy beer from her over-sized cup. She grabbed at her large saggy braless boobs, and stuck out her tongue. She shifted her attention quickly to my friend P, who had been following closely behind. I grinned watching the lady grope and encompass P. He shrieked as she cupped his manhood, and then looked at me with this wild look in his eyes, like a trapped animal. She got him, I mused to myself.

                “Come on P,” I called and pushed my way through an oncoming crowd of revelers.

                “I’ll suck you,” a voice said from the crowd. “My friend will fuck you if you have another.”

                I looked around but couldn’t find the source of the words. I shrugged it off, and just as I was about to dismiss what I had heard, a beautiful raven-haired girl stepped in my way.

                “I’ve got the boobs,” she said. “My friends got the ass.”

                She grabbed both sides of an old baggy Metallica shirt and pulled it against her frame. She bounced slightly up and down, and then let gravity work. She was blessed in a way I had seen very few blessed before. A huge toothy smile was splashed across her face when the bouncing had stopped and my eyes glanced up.

                “If you’re not a boob guy,” she said, “my friends got the ass.”

                The busty dark-haired girl twirled her index finger and that prompted a thick blonde standing next to her hike up her shirt and turned around. The spandex the blonde wore, left very little to the imagination. She too let gravity work as he bounced her ass up and down.

                I was put on the spot. I was completely sober, and had yet to even make my first pass down Bourbon, and I already knew I was about to be without my prize pink rose beads. I tried to play coy, and dismissive. I smiled and started to walk off.

                “I can get more than that,” I offered with a boyish smile.

                “I did say, I’d suck you off,” She countered.

                “I bet you say that to all the boys,” I said.

                The thick blonde laughed. She had turned back around was hovering off in the periphery. The raven-haired girl smiled.

                “You’re cute,” she said.

               

                The two girls, P, and I spent the next few hours hanging out. Dipping in and out of various strip clubs where the girls were greeted warmly. It soon became very apparent that these girls hadn’t been just customers, but had also worked at a couple.

                “I’m going to show you a good time,” the raven-haired girl, whose name I now knew to be Kathy or Kitty. Her blonde friend was Abi. My friend P had left on his own journey, after we had crashed a bachelorette party that had degenerated into the soon-to-be bride doing her best imitation of “My Pony” on her maid of honor. Sensing his fortunes laid with the bachelorette party and not with Kitty or Abi, P had joined the group of girls and went off to celebrate the coming nuptials. P and I agreed to meet up at the car at noon the next day.

                Abi had also left, she had an appointment. I asked if she were going to see a John, and she had laughed it off and offered a curt,

                “Maybe.”

                At an all-night diner, Kitty and I had our first real discussion. We talked about the stripper thing, how she got into it. How she made so much in one night that it afforded her time to really devote to school and work on her teaching credits. We discussed my aspirations, and kind of laughed about how I was wanting to transition from a straight-laced military job to the sex industry, and how she was hoping to do the opposite. We talked for hours before walking the fifteen minutes to her and Abi’s apartment.

                Walking into their apartment was almost like walking into a sex shop. Vibrators and dildos of various sizes and lengths were strewn about like how clothes would be strewn about in my apartment. There wasn’t a hint of embarrassment from Kitty. It was all perfectly normal, right down the life-sized mannequin dressed in black leather, with a massive black strap-on attached to it.

                “Intimidating, huh?” she asked.

                “Your’s?” I asked. “Or hers?”

                Kitty smiled.

                I could hear moaning coming from behind a partition. I assumed it was Abi and her “John.” The apartment was a wide-open loft so sound carried everywhere. Office partitions had been put up to separate various sections of the large room. Kitty motioned to me to come forward. As I did, she pointed ahead to Abi, who was laying back on a mattress penetrating her shaven slit with a massive pink dildo that took two hands to fully manage.

                 Despite the live action ahead, the computer geek in me screamed as I looked over the hardware present. Skirting the perimeter of her bed were various cameras, old school web cam jobs with wiring that ran into a tangled rats nest on the side of the dingy mattress. A lone computer screen flickered with life against the far wall. Abi moaned harder now, perhaps it was the sense that she was being watched. There was something voyeuristic about it.

                “Camwhore,” I said.

                Kitty nodded.

                “You?” I said and pointed to the action.

                Kitty shook her head, and then pulled me away. She kissed me.

                It wasn’t a slight peck or one of those timid, should I or shouldn’t I types of kisses. It was full on and it was hard. Her lips were locked against mine. I ran my hand up from her waist, to her breasts, and then to her neck. I squeezed and separated myself from her.

               “What happened to sucking?’ I asked.

               Kitty smiled.

               Kitty’s mouth was gentle.  I towered over her. My 6’3” frame dwarfed her. She licked and caressed with a softness that hadn’t been there when we kissed. She had no issues taking my entire member and working it down her throat. I was rock hard and she wasn’t fazed.

               After several minutes, I felt the need to push the action. I lifted her up from her knees by the raven-haired knot on the back of her head. I pushed her to the couch and bent her over the armrest. The time for gentleness was gone. I just had to penetrate her. To make her feel me. To give her all of me.

              As I yanked at her shorts, she pushed her hand back to create separation. She turned and had to of read the confusion on my face.

              “I’m a virgin,” she said.

              “What?” I laughed. “A virginal stripper?”

              She wasn’t amused.

             “Mouth and ass,” she offered.

            “Ass,” I answered as I transferred the pink rose beads from my neck to hers.

            “We’re going to need lube.”

 

                The next morning, I woke up to bagels and coffee. I don’t eat bagels, nor do I drink coffee. Abi had gone out early, and Kitty was still sleeping soundly next to me. To try and not seem ungrateful I took a bite of the bagel Abi extended me and then choked down some coffee.

                “I want to borrow you,” Abi said. “Your cock rather.”

                “I don-,” I started.

                “Before you answer come look,” She said as she sat down the bagels and coffee and extended her hand to me. I took her hand, curious to see what sort of plans she had for my cock.

                She led me back to the mattress. The black leather mannequin was framed in the shot on the computer.

                “Oh hell no,” I laughed.

                “No,” she said. “It’s softcore. No actual penetration.”

                “Fuck that,” I offered.

                Abi explained that it wasn’t a web came thing, she was doing a photo shoot for a particular unnamed site. It was going to be BDSM based. She wanted me to wear a cock ring and that essentially my body would be in the pictures, but my face would be covered by a black leather hood.

                “It’s softcore, so simulated sex,” she informed.

                I nodded.

                It was kind of weird laying there. Having her had free run of my body. I had never been teased as much in my life as I was for the thirty minutes she posed and preened atop my cock. I had also never penetrated another woman so much in such a short amount of time. She slid to varying depths on my shaft clicking and then holding the pose.

                “Katy!” Abi called.

                I heard Kitty enter, her feet drug across the floor. She walked a little more gingerly than she had the night before. I wasn’t sure if it was the fact she had just woke up, or if she was feeling the aftereffects of last night. Our anal experience hadn’t quite went as planned. Despite her best effort, she couldn’t manage my girth. I ended up settling for a blowjob.

                I heard a rapid series of clicks. I imagined Katy was taking shots from behind. Click. Click. Click.

                Abi shifted her weight back and she shifting pushed me deeper inside of her.

                “I thought this wasn’t supposed to be penetration?” I asked.

                “The pictures can’t show the penetration,” she answered. “But we want to simulate it, and what better way to simulate than to actually have It in. We just have to play with the angles a little bit.”

                I nodded.

                “You okay with that?” she said as she bounced up and down.

                “Fuck,” I screamed. My cock throbbed hard inside of her. “You’re a fucking tease.”

                Abi giggled. She wriggled back and forth before spinning around to a position akin to reverse cowgirl. I felt up and grabbed a handful of her ass, to which she responded by playfully slapping my hand away.

                “A few more Katy,” Abi directed.

                Abi had removed my cock completely and now had her hand on it. I could feel the slight prickly of unshaven hair against my hard shaft. Click. Click. Click.

                Abi lifted herself back up and onto my tool. I moved up and thrust into her. She scooted, but her weight shifted fully onto me. I was balls deep in her, but the feeling I got wasn’t one of ecstasy or pleasure. There was a sharp sensation that ran down the length of my member and settling in the base of my spine. I jerked hard and push Abi off.

                “What the fuck!” I cried.

                Stunned into silence Abi and Kitty watched as a I held myself. The pain began to subside almost immediately.

                Kitty came over. “Let me see?” she asked.

                I slowly pulled back my hand to show her my cock.

                “He must have hit my IUD,” Abi said.

                “No marks or anything,” Kitty offered.

                “That’ll teach you to no go plugging unknown holes,” Abi joked.

                “You laugh,” Kitty said, “but you broke your stunt cock.”

                Kitty looked at me and smiled. She leaned down and kissed the tip.

                “Better now?” she asked.

                I nodded.

                “You guys have workman’s comp?” I asked.

                Abi smiled, and Kitty laughed.

                “We’ll have to work something out,” Abi offered.

 

Disclaimer: So, I’ve told this story over the years, I’ve been argued up and down that IUD’s can’t hurt a guy. Some claim to feel them, but doctors and such say they can’t cause pain. They do admit that during intercourse a man can feel the string. I don’t know. I’m not an expert. I may just have been the way she was situated on my dick, but the pain was very real. Years later, I was dating a girl and we were both shitty drunk laying in bed after a night of partying. We were getting ready to fuck and she mentioned she had a hook in her vagina. I think she thought it was amusing to describe it like that. I asked if she was talking about an IUD. She nodded, I politely declined intercourse and then told her the above story.  

I’ve gotten a few questions about the origin of the stories on my blog, and whether they are true or not. The idea for the first of the stories started as a way to sort of explain my progression in the lifestyle. Each of the stories I’ve written and intend to right represent something, a piece of the overall puzzle that adds up to where I’m at. They might not seem overtly BDSM or D/s related, but there are aspects there. What you read on the blog are rough drafts, unfinished pieces that have not been edited or scrutinized. I sit and I write.

The writing is part practice, but also with an eye towards maybe bundling them all together in a short story collection. A collection that better shows my journey through the years. So, for the most part the stories are true. I would never call them a memoir though, there are aspects and names that get changed. I’d say roughly 80% of each story is accurate, most of the dialogue is altered simply because in those moment I recall more of what happened and not always how. There’s also the aspect of entertainment value. As I mentioned, these are throw-away stories, they are practice. I experiment with them and try to have fun. I think that comes through, and explains why some are rough and perhaps uneven. I know Daphne/sabrina is a bit uneven. It’s also lengthy and might have too many lulls or periods where there’s not enough action.

That particular story was a bit complex to tell. It’s hard to explain how I would go from meeting a couple of girls, to making out with them and banging them at their apartment. However, I think the lull comes in when I try to explain that, try to get to the emotions I felt. There was something different about Sabrina. When I saw her, I was moved, I can only explain it in a spiritual way. We connected. I don’t know if you’ve ever had that kind of feeling, you see someone and you just know you have to have them. This was before we even spoke. I was 22 when I had met her. Never had a significant girlfriend. I considered myself a bit of a Libertine. I had no idea really about D/s or any sort of dynamic. I think when she and I first came into contact that’s the first inkling I had of a dynamic. The feeling that we just fit together. It’s the feelings like that which are difficult to explain.

Sabrina and I dated a while after, much like Meg and I from another story. Of course their names are changed in the stories, but with Meg, I knew what I was and I knew the feeling I was feeling when I met her in that hallway at school. I was able to properly act on it, although I did get a bit carried away.

The stories I tell, take me back. Help me process myself and my choices. Writing has always done that for me. Always been the doorway to my soul. Some claim it’s the eyes which are the doorways, good luck trying to get anything out of my eyes or face for that matter. I’m stoic as fuck, or so it’s been said. I think that’s the control aspect to me. Never letting out more than I want out, and with each word I write I consciously choose what to let out. If you’re able and paying attention you can pick up on what I’m putting out. I think that’s what I hope I do with my writings. I build a connection with the reader. Perhaps they yearn for something in my stories, or perhaps they recognize slivers of themselves in one of the characters. All in all, I just hope they have an enjoyable experience.

There had only been a few side-eye glances and awkward smiles from across the bar before Daphne had made her way over. I immediately had pegged her as a fun one, this perpetual ball of energy and fun that bounced about the bar engaging and enticing all manner of admirers. Her friend Sabrina was far more subdued. She had been too shy to approach me and at first very distant. The more we spoke and drank, the more she opened up. She was an articulate and thoughtful girl, with long legs and shoulder length auburn hair. Her best feature by far were the massive mounds that appeared to be barely contained by a pink halter-top that continued down and half-way covered a flat toned stomach.

“I was Air Force,” she had said.

“We both were,” Daphne interjected.

“No shit,” I responded. “I’m stationed on the coast.”

“Cool beans,” Sabrina.

“Cool beans?!” Daphne cried out just before letting out this obnoxious snort. “Who says that anymore?”

Daphne was definitely the adventurous type. Initially, she had acted as the go between Sabrina and I. Daphne was an exotic brunette who lit up the room and made every man stop and take a second look. Her young nubile body screamed sex, right down the thong she wore that had the word “WHORE” emblazoned on it.

“I might have to test that out,” I said. I regretted it immediately. Too eager, I thought.

“Don’t tempt her,” Sabrina chimed in.

Burn. Was that a hint of jealousy I sensed?

Having been the instigator I knew Daphne was bold and likely more open than her coed friend. She was a girl who exuded confidence and obviously was very focused on what she wanted. Everything about her made her desirable; from her Gina Gershon-esque lips, up to her deep blue eyes, and back down to her round firm ass. Every inch of her toyed and played with my imagination.

I couldn’t shake Sabrina though. Those shy smiles and her awkwardness made her endearing in ways I could never find Daphne endearing. Daphne is the friend for a night, whereas Sabrina was perhaps more.

After several drinks and a misadventure walking into the wrong bathroom Sabrina had begun to loosen up. And though it had been right under my nose the whole time I finally realized they were sort of together. I didn’t question their dynamic or intent. I had learned long ago to just go with it.
I spent the next twenty or so minutes just watching the two girls dance and do shots. Sweaty and breathing hard, Sabrina came and grabbed me and led me across the dance floor. At first, I thought she wanted to dance and I was about to shake her off when she pushed me. I fell into the darkness and found myself being guided down by Daphne.

“Just go with it,” she said. I nodded in the affirmative.

Sabrina was loose. Sabrina was wired. She danced up to the edge of the booth we were seated in and parted my legs. She danced for me. Moving to the rhythm of the music, yet with just a twinge of awkwardness. It was the awkwardness that drew me in. Those little looks to see if I liked what I saw. Reaffirmation that she was pleasing. She was very pleasing.

I felt Daphne’s soft delicate hands run their way up my back, to my neck and then the back of my head. Her hands turned firm and she guided my head around. Our mouths me and her tongue invaded mine.

“Just go with it,” she repeated.

Sabrina had turned and dipped down, she ground her ass into my crotch thrusting back and forth. Daphne reached over and encouraged Sabrina with a quick sharp slap to her ass before reaching down and pawing at my groin almost like a cat paws affectionately at her owner.

I settled back in the booth as Daphne continued to rub at a nice methodical rate. A slight smile creased her face as her work bore physical fruit.

“Oh, he’s big,” Daphne said in what would normally be a normal tone, but in the club was drowned out to a barely audible comment on the state of my cock.

I settled back farther and leaned my neck and head against the very back of the booth. Sabrina had halted her grinding as Daphne used both her hands to provide the necessary resistance so that I could slide further back in the dark recesses of the booth. I watched as the two girls switched. Daphne crawled out under the table and Sabrina turned and slide down next to me in the booth. One half of Sabrina’s body laid perched upon me and the other half hung off in the darkness between the booth and table. She was a tall girl. We were both cramped, and the scent of her perfume and sweat assailed my senses. She kissed me.
Her mouth tasted of cranberry and vodka. It was sweet, warm, and dry. Her tongue had the text of sandpaper, but tickled more than hurt. It dug it’s way out of my mouth and then back in. Deep.
I kept my eyes closed and focused on the rhythmic motion of our dancing tongues. My heart was beating fast. I could feel the throbbing in my chest, but also in my groin. Boom. Boom. Boom. I could feel my skin warming. Still, I focused on Sabrina.

It was then that I felt a mass on my crotch. I shifted and freed my left arm from its postion between my body and the booths cushion. I reached up and felt a small hand rubbing. I knew both of Sabrina’s hands were on me, one on my chest, and the other on my face. The location of her hand on my face was the primary source heat. The skin tingled to the touch, and when she shifted, the cool air of the club would reclaim the warmed skin creating a sensation almost akin to the sensation of Icy Hot when applied. Hot and cold, such delightful contrasts.

“I’m fucked u-“ I started before Sabrina’s mouth met mine once again.

“You’re almost fucked,” I could hear Daphne say, or perhaps that was my imagination to. All light swirled in pulsating patterns. Images of Sabrina and Daphne danced in my head. It was almost voyeuristic in a sense, a sort of out of body experience. Perhaps it was my mind’s eye interpreting what has was happening, because my eyes were most assuredly closed.

The vision I saw was of Daphne and Sabrina. Sabrina laid there as she was only nude, and Daphne was riding me. There was no crowd or anyone else. It was just us. Or was it?

The visualization in my head came to an abrupt end when a loud group of cheers and atta boys rang out. Daphne had ceased her petting and patting. Directly across from us, a group of frat boy automatons sat admiring the view. They clamored to get a better view and soon a chorus of boyish chants rang out. Daphne rose up and looked over to the table and smile.

“Just go with it,” she mouthed. At least that’s what I imagined I saw.

She had taken position between my legs. With the offset strobing of the light above I could catch a glimpse of her every few seconds. She worked her right hand at a feverish pace and then as if she read my mind, she used her left to work my belt free of its buckle. Sabrina watched for a moment, hesitated and then offered assistance.

Sabrina has raised up in the booth. From her knees she began to pull back and on the black leather belt and with a few tugs had finally freed it from the constraints of the buckle.

“Got it,” she called out triumphant.

I immediately felt Daphne’s hands begin to explore the exposed area and slip my cock from my boxers.

“Oh yea, it’s big,” Sabrina confirmed.

“Just go with it,” I told myself.

I felt rush of cool air when my cock was freed. It’s throbbed in Daphnes small hand. She grabbed it harder and then I felt a sharp coursing sensation. I finally opened my eyes and watched her trace the length of my dick with her mouth. She then stopped.

Daphne motioned to Sabrina who then knelt over. As I was preparing myself for a double team, Daphnes mouth met Sabrina’s. Sabrina was suspended over me, the weight of her body partially leveraged upon me and her hand which braced her against the top of the booth. The two kissed for a long minute each moment growing in intenstity.

The girl on girl action drew the expected response from the raging hormones across the way.

“Get it girl,” one said.

“Woot, woot!” A more creative one called.

“Just sit on it,” I thought.

Daphne worked her tongue from Sabrina’s mouth, to her neck and then down to her tightly formed stomach. Daphne seemed to be playing into the cat calls and attention she was receiving. She pushed further and began tugging Sabrina's short tight skirt before thinking better of it and lifting the fabric up to expose her perfectly tan thighs.

For a brief moment time seemed to stand still as I waited in anticipation for Daphne's next act. Sabrina glanced towards me and we held a lustful gaze for several moments. In her eyes I didn't see the look of that same timid young girl who could barely muster the courage to approach me. Something had changed. As Daphne crawled into booth, I scooted myself up the back of the booth and to a seated position. Sabrina turned her back to me and laid against me. Her damp skin was a welcome sensation on my bare cock. As Daphne crawled, from my new position I had free reign over Sabrina’s body. My hands roamed and made their way down to her soft silky thighs. I used a little pressure to spread to spread her legs apart. My intent was to expose her, to tease her, much like they had teased me. However, before the thought had become action Daphne seized the opportunity.

Sabrina's eyes lit up, she lurched back and was overcome with the sensation of Daphne’s tongue penetrating her. Sabrina reeled to the left and dug her nails into my left leg. She arched her back and then thrust herself forward and grabbed the back of Daphne’s head and ground it into her fleshy mound.
Sabrina cried out. I couldn’t make out what she said, but I quickly pulled her back on top of me and cupped my hand over her mouth in an effort to draw less attention.

“Just go with it,” I said with a laugh.

Daphne was fully involved. Her head jerked and gyrated like a jackhammer on concrete. Sabrina writhed in my arms. The intensity of her flailing grew and I had to wrap my arms around he to keep her more contained, only I think it intensified the experience for her.

I looked down and saw Daphne’s eyes staring up at me. She gently pecked just above Sabrina’s lightly shaven bush, then ran her tongue up the wisps of peach fuzz that trailed up to her navel. Daphne rose and pushed herself between Sabrina’s thighs. Our mouths locked and after a moment she pulled away, stood up and righted her clothing.

“You ready?” Daphne asked as she looked own at Sabrina, who too had adjusted her clothing. It appeared like nothing had happened.

The whooping from across the way had turned into boo’s and jeers. Daphne turned to the audience and curtsied. She blew them a kiss and then turned back to Sabrina. Daphne extended her hand out and Sabrina grabbed it and pulled herself away from me. The smell of sweat and perfume went with her.

I adjusted myself and zipped my pants. I smiled as the two girls hovered in the space where the dark overtook the light. I couldn’t see their expressions, just ghostly silhouettes with unknown intentions.

“You coming?” Sabrina finally asked.

There was only one answer to that question for me. I wasn’t new to threesomes. It was a badge I had earned my very first time. However, it had eluded me. Still, it wasn’t an experience that topped my list like every other guy. Two girls meant twice the pressure to please.

It could be the fact I didn’t chase made me different than that group of hormonal apes who coveted the eye candy, but could never taste of the attainable fruit. They were content to sit in the corner heckling and cheering as opposed to actually tagging in and taking a run at such two lovely women. Perhaps they were intimidated, or perhaps they were just scared. It’s easy to fantasize about something that’s unattainable, another thing to have it come true. What does one fantasize about when all their fantasies have been fulfilled though?

It was this thought that creeped into my mind as we made the short trek to their room at the Omni. What is my fantasy?

“Two chicks at the same time,” I recalled Lawrence from Office Space saying when asked what he would do if he had a million dollars. It’s a common answer for guys.

I don’t know if Sabrina had sensed my mind wander, but she put her left arm around me and pulled close to me as we worked our way through the Bourbon St. revelers. There was something to the way she touched me, the way our particular bodies intersected. I looked into her eyes and I could see she felt it too. I was the magnet and she was stardust. Metallicized pieces cast out from the death throes of a failing star, and here we were caught in a fateful dance, both our oribits decaying into one another. Who would swallow whom? I questioned.

I smiled at the thought of her swallowing me.

“You look like you’re a million miles away,” Sabrina said.

“That obvious?”

She gave me a shrug and then a smile.

“It’s not far,” Daphne called as she pulled up to me and wrapped her own arm around me.

I strolled into the hotel with both girls flanking me. As we walked through the foyer of the hotel I felt like I could be pulled apart. Daphne pressed forward almost pulling me along, she was ready. Whereas Sabrina was slow and leisurely. I caught myself focused more on her eyes than the Whore emblazoned thong that had started to pull ahead. Sabrina’s eyes never left me.

When the doors to the elevator slammed shut Daphne pulled against me and leapt up into my arms. She began tonguing my earlobe and guided her hand down to me rock hard shaft. She moved her hand up and down against my groin while I slid my right hand around her waist and into the back of her pants. She dropped down and pushed me against he back wall of the elevator and began to tear at my jeans like a crazed animal.

I watched Sabrina, and she watched Daphne. Sabrina’s eyes were distant and cold.
I felt a cool rush as Daphne had managed to pull my cock out. She pawed at Sabrina. The two interlocked arms, Daphne used Sabrinas both a shield and anchor as rocked back onto me. She barely got the tip and pushed Sabrina away so she could spin around and put me in her mouth. After several moment Daphne rose again and motioned again to Sabrina. Sabrina obliged and this time Daphne took about half my cock inside her. She exhaled accompanied by an very audible moan.

I pushed deeper into Daphne, and part of me wished it were Sabrina. Her cold eyes caught mine and she forced a smile. I put my right hand on Daphne to guide her as she worked back and forth on me, and I used my left to subtly tug at Sabrina’s shirt. Sabrina bit her lip slightly, as if she were trying to be coy. I shook my head.

“Let me see,” I said.

Sabrina moved to comply, but the elevator doors swung open followed by a muted chime. Floor 3 was highlighted. Sabrina smiled as an elderly couple stepped attempted to enter with their bags.

“Wrong elevator,” the elderly woman told her husband.

“I don’t know about that,” the old man said as a huge smile creased his face.

The shock of likely being caught had caused Daphne to freeze mid-motion. My cock was half in her and half out.

“Put him up for now,” Sabrina said.

I smiled. It had been the first time Sabrina had given Daphne any sort of command. I liked it.

Daphne started to comply. She turned, grabbed my jeans, and dropped to her knees.

“Clean it,” I ordered.

Daphne looked puzzled but followed the command. She put it in her mouth and took as much in as she could.

“Be sure to lick the sides,” Sabrina offered.

Daphne complied.

In that moment I wasn’t sure what had happened. There was an obvious shift though. Something had awoken in Sabrina. She pushed between Daphne and I, and said.
“You’re mine.”

She kissed me, but this time it was different. Equal parts passion and desire, but there was an undercurrent of something else. Something elusive.

The doors swung open and the elevator chimed. Floor 5 was highlighted, but as we got off things were much more subdued. It had felt like all the passion had gotten off on the third floor.

Sabrina and I walked arm in arm to their room. Daphne was quick with the key card, and within moments we were in the room. It was a pretty swanky room, better than any I had stayed in during my many visits to Nola. Daphne had made a beeline to the bathroom, and Sabrina had sat me down in a plush chair and crawled into my lap. The shower in the bathroom roared to life followed by the barely audible lyrics of Britney Spears’ “Crazy” could be heard.

“It can be just you and I if you want,” she said.

I shrugged as if to say it’s up to her.

“I don’t want to disappoint Daphne though,” Sabrina offered.

“Is this normal for y’all?” I asked.

Sabrina shook her head.

“It’s usually just Daphne,” she said. She motioned over to another door. “It’s a suite.”

“Ah,” I muttered, not fully understanding.

“I liked you,” she said. “So, Daphne likes you.”

Something clicked in that moment for me. Then this feeling of guilt started to creep in.

“Did I fuck up?” I said.

“No,” she said with a smile which she followed with a light kiss.

“You did good?” she offered.

“I did?”

“Yea,” she said. “You chose me.”

Sabrina lowered her head laid in on my shoulder. We sat there for several moments. I counted the beats of her heart and I could almost feel it syncing with mine. Her head dipped further, but I didn’t want interrupt the moment. I let her drift there, somewhere between reality and sleep.

“I’m back bitches!” Daphne announced as she swung the sliding door to the bathroom back and stood within the door frame stark naked. Her body glistened in the light and it was clear she hadn’t toweled off.

Sabrina hadn’t budged, but I knew Daphne would change that.

Daphne ran and launched herself onto the bed across the room. She stretched out across the bed extending her arms and legs in a fashion that made it seem like she was making snow angels in the bed.

“It’s okay to look,” she assured.

Daphne bounded out of the bed almost as quickly as she had launched herself onto it, it was like the shower had completely recharged her. She wanted to be seen.

I watched Daphne as she crossed the room and pulled some small bottles of wine from the mini-fidge. She slowly made her way towards me and handed a now fully awake Sabrina a bottle before downing the one she had gotten for herself.

“We have some small bottles of Crown or Daniels,” Sabrina offered.

“Crown,” I said.

Daphne smiled and bounded back to the fridge returning with two small bottles of crown.

“You want a blow job?” Daphne asked.

I looked at Sabrina. Sabrina nodded.

“Sure,” I answered.

Using her teeth Daphne chewed off the plastic seal and then twisted the top off the miniature bottle. Sabrina stood up and Daphne crawled into my lap and straddled me. She poured a little crown on the tip of her perky break and let it run off into my mouth. She poured more but I met the source at the point of her breast and drank it in.

She giggled, and I could feel goosebumbs rising on her skins. I ran my hands up her abdomen and cupped her breasts.

“That’s not the blow job,” she said.

“I hope not.”

Daphne shook her head as if to get the hair out of her face. Her hair was short, so I imagined this must have just been a habit. She place the bottom of the bottle in her mouth and then leaned over to me and poured the contents into my mouth. It wasn’t a true blow job. Not like the ones that gave you at Razoo’s when you’re coming out of the bathroom and a cute bartender grabs you from her elevated position on the bar and pulls you to her and blows a gelatinous alcoholic concoction out of the tube and into your mouth. Something about this blowjob seemed more hygienic and safer, after all I had been balls deep within Daphne just 10 minutes prior.

After I swallowed the last of the Crown Daphne tossed the bottle away and leaned down and began kissing me deeply. It wasn’t quite as passionate and raw as what I had experienced in the elevator. It was more subdued. Almost like she was holding back, perhaps she had recognized that I had been marked by Sabrina.

My hands roamed over her naked body. She ground her mound into the bulge in my pants. It felt good at first, but soon the friction and heat became uncomfortable. I shifted and began to unbuckle my pants. Daphne shooed my hands away and took over. Within moments I was inside her.

“I know you want to fuck Sabrina,” Daphne said during her rhythmic rocking back and forth on my cock.

“I do,” I responded. “I think I want to fuck you both.”

Daphne ground to a halt. I thought maybe I had said something wrong and blew my chance. Daphne’s eyes had opened and she looked into mine,

“You’re sweet,” she said.

“Is that good?”

“You’re sweet,” she started. “Daphne’s sweet.”

Daphne paused and she flexed, I could feel her vaginal muscles tighten.

“Sorry,” she said. “You hit pretty deep.”

“Not hard to get deep when you’re only five foot,” I joked. She didn’t smile.

“Thing is,” Daphne said. “If you fuck her, you fuck her hard.”

“Okay…”

“I mean real hard,” she said. “she likes that. She’s submissive. Not that it makes her submissive, she just is.”

I looked at Daphne processing what she said.

“She likes you to take the lead,” she offered.

I shook my head in recognition.

Daphne withdrew and gave me an approving peck on my forehead. I think that was her approval of what I was about to do her best friend.

I stood up. My shirt was drenched from having Daphne’s wet naked body pressed against me. Sabrina was sitting over on the bed. Her eyes caught mine, but she quickly looked away. She had watched the encounter between Daphne and I. Was she turned on?

I was pretty certain she hadn’t heard our conversation and what information Daphne had relayed.

“Submissive,” Daphne had said.

Submissive. I had a mild recollection of some past discussions previously with another submissive type. She had said she was submissive but she called herself a slave. I didn’t know the distinction; all I knew was that they liked to be directed and given orders. These were things I typically did with no prompt. Did this mean I was dominant?

Seeing Sabrina there perched on the bed, knowing she was mine for the taking was a surreal feeling unlike anything I had ever felt before. I took a moment to look her over. I wanted to consume her, to get as close to her as I possibly could. I had never quite felt this way. Never before felt such an urge to make someone mine. It hadn’t been Daphne’s revelation, it’s a feeling I had felt since the moment I first caught Sabrina eyeing me sheepishly. There was some sort of unspoken connection. Something in her eyes, a sense of recognition. And here she was just waiting. Waiting on me to take her, to do with her whatever I wanted. To dominate her. But how?

As if she had read my mind Daphne leaned into me and stood on the tips or her toes.
“Take her,” she softly whispered. I nodded.

I took another moment to collect my thoughts. Though I didn’t know all the terminology, I knew in that moment she was mine. There was something about that thought that elevated the feelings I was already having. I couldn’t contain it any longer. Too much thinking.

I crossed the room with a purpose and I stood over Sabrina. She seemed smaller now. Like she had shrunk into herself. She looked up at me, a sense of wanting in her eyes.

“Stand up,” I ordered. She complied without a word.

The sweet scent of perfume and sweat pushed up as she rose. With my right hand I reached around her and untied the back of her pink halter-top. The fabric fell away and exposed the flesh of her chest. I reached up and cupped her breast with my free hand and it traveled up gripping her throat.

“You’re mine,” I whispered in her ear.

She nodded.

I tightened my grip on her throat, she swallowed hard. The pinkish imprint of my hand slowly faded. I took a step back from her and looked over at Daphne who had taken my spot in the chair. She had spread her legs and pulled them up to her. She was gently caressing her smooth mound and intermittently using her two middle index fingers to stimulate her clit.

“Strip,” I said as I turned my attention to Sabrina.

Without a word she shimmied her skits down her legs and pulled the top off down as well. She stood there before me, naked and exposed. I pressed one of her hardened nipples between my thumb and finger. She took a deep breath and then exhaled slowly.

“You like being fucked hard?” I asked.

She nodded in the affirmative.

“Or does Daphne like watching you get fucked hard?”

Sabrina’s eyes shifted over to Daphne, and then down to the floor. With I squeezed tighter on her nipple.

“I just want what you want sir,” she answered.

"You're not going to become shy now are you?" I asked.

Sabrina shook her head, then said "No."

“Good,” I said, “Now clean that bitch off of me.”

A slight smile creased Sabrina’s face and she slowly went to her knees. She kissed the head and ran her tongue along the length of my shaft. I could feel the blood coursing through me and down to my lower extremity. Her touch was electric. Her mouth divine. It was mere moments and my load was spent. It hadn’t been intentional; I had just got caught in the moment.

Sabrina sat waiting for direction. I grabbed her by the back of her head with one hand and eased her head away as I used my other hand to grab my cock and pull it from her mouth. I shook the tip and some of the drippings went in her mouth, then her lip and onto her breast.

“What’s a good girl do?”

She swallowed.

Sabrina raised herself up and started to grab the bundle of clothes from the floor. She looked over to Daphne who had quit pleasing herself. It was as if the show was over. I had blew my load and that was the night. It was true I had blew a load, but it wasn’t true that the night was over.

“I’m not through with you yet.” I admonished.

Sabrina dropped her clothes and hurried back to the position on her knees. I looked over at Daphne. I motioned over to her and pointed to the spot next to Sabrina. Daphne didn’t need any further prompts. She bounded over and took the position.

“Keep it hard,” I said.

Daphne jumped in and using copious amount of spit to create a nice slick lather on my member. While she focused on the cock Sabrina took to licking the balls. As Daphne continued to suck on my cock I looked down at Sabrina. She was more spectating than participating now.

“Get on the bed,” I directed.

Sabrina slid back and then up the foot of the bed. She laid down and almost instinctively spread her legs to expose her feminine wonders. I smiled.

“Play with yourself,” I said.

As soon as the words were spoken two of her fingers were deep in her box. She was watching Daphne's face slide up and down my rod and there was this perverted glee on her face. Her eyes flickered with desire, like two flames being stoked in the night.

It was just enough for me to watch Sabrina. In that moment I was sure I hadn’t seen anything quite as amazing, and it was mine. I throbbed hard in Daphne’s mouth and she eased off my rod. I pushed her head down gently and thrust my hips to ease it deeper into her mouth. A gag reflex erupted from her.

"Too deep I asked?"

She nodded.

"Take it,” I said.

After a sip of wine from one of the mini bottles of wine, Daphne made another attempt. As she eased my fleshy member into her mouth. I leaned in and thrust, but she gagged again.

It’s time, I thought. I looked over and Sabrina was nice and primed. I stepped close and ran my hand up her leg, to her silky thing, and onto the heated mound of flesh. It took just a touch and her body quivered. As much as I had been inside Daphne I had yet to know what Sabrina felt like, and not that I stood before her, I found myself appreciating the anticipation. Seeing her laid out on the bed, just mine for the taking. I knew what control felt like in that moment. I liked it.

Sabrina’s body trembled when I thrust my eight inches inside of her. I went hard, just like Daphne had wanted. My cock tore into her and split her lips like a hot coal in a snow bed. I was balls deep in her before the feeling even registered to her, but I felt it all. Her insides convulsed and quivered, trying to register the sensations. The raw feel of her vagina massaged me while I slid in and back out of her.

I pushed my weight upon her until we were face to face. She didn’t open her eyes. I continued to assault her insides, desperate to register some reaction in her face. She remained stoic, letting out mousy moans, and writing ever so often against my human battering ram. I sped up and increased my thrusts. I felt her fleshy cleft tighten, and then her eyes opened. A lough moan erupted from her, I pumped faster and harder until the build-up was almost complete.

“I’m close,” I said.

I could feel Daphne press against me from behind. I pulled out and Daphne grabbed my cock and emptied my load on Sabrina’s stomach.

“I’m jealous,” Daphne said.

“Why is that?” I asked.

“You came twice for her,” she answered. “Have one for me?”

“Clean us up,” I said. “and give me that other bottle of Crown.”

Daphne gave my cock a couple of tugs before putting it in her mouth and cleaning the tip off.

“Feed it to her,” I said to Sabrina.

Sabrina smiled and using her hand scooped the remained of my load into Daphne’s mouth. I collapsed back into the chair, took a drink of Crown.

“I can go all night.” I said.

Sabrina and Daphne both looked at me from the bed.

“Just tell us what to do,” they said in unision.

 

 

My first exposure to BDSM was in this movie called Waxwork. It's a campy horror with the guy from another campy horror called Gremlins. Out right there wasn't anything super sexual about the movie, at least not by 80's horror standards. No boobs, no gratuitous sex, just him... the Marquis de Sade.

I was fascinated by the plot, the idea of how these wax figures were fashioned and posed in such a way to replicate particular monsters throughout history. I remember my own brush with a wax museum in New Orleans, and the story of a little slave girl who supposedly ran and jumped out of a third story window in an effort to escape the wrath of the Madame Lalaurie. To this day, the window remains boarded up, and the thought of that particular scene is etched in my mind.

It was the de Sade scene in the movie that gripped me though. At the time I didn't know who de Sade was, or what the scene represented. Still. despite the mediocre acting and shoddy set, I was captivated and something stirred within me. A young, innocent looking girl dressed in all white, save for a black blindfold is led into a room full of other scantily clad women and older courtly type gentlemen. I couldn't understand her compulsion. Why there was no fear in her eyes. Sure, the plot of the movie forced the characters to act out as the character in the wax scene would. So, I was confused. Was she willingly being led in of her own free will?

As the scene progressed my confusion only grew. She's shackled in the center of the room. There's no hesitation, or fear. Just this resolute stare and submission. When de Sade began to whip her, I thought surely this was punishment. Who could possibly enjoy this? However, that stirring feeling I was feeling, told me that while it might seem or feel wrong, something about it was oh so right.

For years the scene stuck in my mind. As I started to explore sexually, I was a bit animistic. I liked pushing and I liked seeing just how much of me my partner could take. I learned that women had varying degrees of pain thresholds and different ideas of rough sex. I explored and tried to learn the language of the body. I tried to learn when they wanted more, or when they had reached their limit.

Looking back, I was stabbing aimlessly in the dark. While I began to understand the baser needs and desires, I was missing the eloquence that had been in that scene. It's almost romantic in a twisted, yet delightful way. I understand now, that it was the anticipation that excited me. When I rewatched it after some years. I had a better understanding of it this time. I recognized part of myself in the de Sade character. That's why it had stirred me. It was the sense of like meets like.The Sadism, the Dominance, and the voyeuristic tendencies are all microcosms of what define me as a sexual being. This prompted me to delve into understanding who de Sade was. What made him a monster worthy of putting on display?

It's the idea of what the scene represented. I think it's the unknown and the fear that comes with it. There's the inability to understand how someone would willingly subject themselves to torture in the pursuit of pleasure. In a world as rigid as ours, dark secrets and desires are buried instead of drug out into the light of day, and the perverse is akin to the macabre. It's terrifying to the uninitiated. I was never scared though. I was intrigued.

 

I would rather be the monster, than be the one afraid.

 

 

The scene...

 

 

Here's the Lalaurie house and the window... I think you can spot the window.

 

What are you looking for? I think that's the #1 question I get asked. To me, there's no cookie cutter mold that spits out my ideal s-type. Truth is, I don't know exactly what type is. I have a general idea, and enough experience to put me in the ball park. However, I find that I'm constantly learning and with each new experience I learn a little more. Sometimes I learn about things I like, other times I learn about things I thought I would like but find out I don't. It's one thing to build something up in your head and then when you experience it, it's nothing like you thought it would be. Talk about disappointing.

It's the little things and the unexpected things that surprise and excite me. Whether it's the way a s-type whimpers or moans, or the attention to detail she might pick up on. There are tons of little things that add up to bigger things, and those bigger things tend to add to a fuller more enjoyable dynamic.

Recently, I've found that I tend to get a laundry list of kinks and interests from potentials before I've even really spoken to them at length about anything. "Hello," they write and then BOOM! Information dump. All the things they will absolutely not do, followed by a list of things they require like cuddling, intimacy, and for me to subscribe to their Premium Snap and Onlyfans.

Seriously, I'm not talking limits here. It's usually various things you would bring up on a Vanilla first date."I don't do this because I heard it's gross," or "I don't do that because I had a friend try it and they didn't like it." To me that sort of removes an element of exploration.I do know that's not what I'm looking for. I'm looking for a sense of adventure and discovery. Someone to be the kinky Sacagawea to my Lewis and Clark.

Besides, who want's to read a book they already know the beginning, middle, and end of. To know how everything will go. I suppose there's a level of control in that. I guess that's absolute control. I'd never knock anyone for liking anything, because that's their journey, and I think that's something that get's overlooked alot. We are all on a journey, and there are some folks better suited to joining us on our journey than others.

I'm looking for that feeling you get when you know you got it right. When you look your potential over, and you know there's real potential as opposed to just going through the motions. I'm a Dom, you're a sub. That's all you need right? The labels?

I'm not looking for abrasive types, drama, or to try and force a square peg into a round hole. However, the Sadist in me would love to watch others try. Big dicks, small holes works too.

What am I looking for? I'm looking for the right experience. I'm looking for what feels right. Finding that is not easy, and requires a bit of trial and error. So, while I'm looking I'll settle for testing out some of the wrong things too.

More and more I’ve been seeing subs write or post about wanting to find a “true” or “proper” Dominant. What does that really mean? There is no “true” or “proper” anything. It’s all subjective and dependent upon your particular tastes, needs, and desires. When I see posts or messages with this sort of language, I just bypass it.

I get that there are posers out there. Loudmouth fuckboi's that jumped on the 50 Shades bandwagon looking for a quick hookup or a kinky sex. Just as there were many that rode that train in with a deep seated desire to learn and embrace a particular role. Well, for me D/s is so much more than just sex. It’s about connection. It’s about that dynamic that exists between two people intrinsically linked by both need and desire. A while back I was having discussions with a potential. She said I wasn't like the other Dom's she knew. I questioned her and her response was that because I wasn't an asshole, I wasn't a true Dom. I just laughed. I didn't respond. I didn't feel it warranted a response. I never feel the need to impose or force my will upon anyone. I think it's telling when you have to try too hard to Dominate. I'm not saying it should be easy, but I can put a hundred subs on their knees, but I know when the fit is there. I know when the dynamic is there. I don't have to be an asshole, or go outside of who I am. Does that make me any less “true?”

If I am less than a “true” Dom to some, then perhaps they really need to take a hard look at what they are looking for. If I say I am a Mental Dom, and the potential sub is geared more towards rope play and physical aspects, that’s not a good fit. It doesn’t mean either one of us are any less than what we claim, it just means we have different needs. That’s human nature. There are no cookie cutter molds that just spit out Doms and subs by the dozens. We are what we are, and we want what we want. Most of the times those things we want are vastly different. That's the beauty of D/s. We can indulge ourselves and find that one person that completes us when all Vanilla avenues have failed us.

As a Mental Dom, I’m far more geared towards the aspects of the journey. I want to learn my sub, and I want to figure out what makes her tick. Expose her buttons and explore those deep dark recesses of her mind where all her dirty secrets linger. I come from the school where you control the mind, to gain control of the body. That takes time, because I don’t build towards a singular encounter. I meticulously lay the framework for the future. I want to make her anticipate our meets. I want her to think about it over and over in her head. Replay those visuals while she’s standing in line at the grocery store or making rounds at work. I want those thoughts to consume her, so that when she does find herself before me on her knees it’s surreal, and she just succumbs to the raw emotion of finally being had.

That’s not to say the same results can’t be had through physical means, it’s just another method. A method that works better for some Doms, and works better on some subs. They aren’t any less “true” or “proper,” and granted, those with experience in the lifestyle already know much of this. A lot of my issue comes from the sense of entitlement we find in our society these days. It has managed to worm its way into the ideals of some and it’s becoming more and more prevalent. Perhaps it’s always been there, and perhaps I’m just now noticing it. What I do know is that D/s is so much deeper than simple tags or names. You can be one thing or can be many. I can give in to my sadistic tendencies, or be a nurturing Daddy, but one thing I most assuredly am is Dominant. Proper or not.

This is something a little different. It's a piece I wrote a LONG time ago, before I had any sort of schooling or understanding of how stories worked. It's essentially a journal entry, a rough piece that retells my experience down in Nola one night.I have begun the process of a rewrite, and I will continue the rewrite and update as I progress... however, I found the stark contrast in styles interesting and thought I would throw it up here, to show my growth as a writer, but also so how the little details and such give a deeper level than the blocky as-a-matter-of-fact, tell it like it style I originally wrote it in. It might be awful, there are some cringe worthy parts for sure, but hopefully I can clean it up and perhaps entertain. Thanks for reading!

 

 

There had only been a few side-eye glances and awkward smiles from across the bar before Daphne had made her way over. I immediately had pegged her as a fun one, this perpetual ball of energy and fun that bounced about the bar engaging and enticing all manner of admirers. Her friend Sabrina was far more the conservative type, whose boundaries I had imagined limited her to missionary and an occasional drunken blow job. It was her and I who had exchanged the glances and looks. She had been too shy to approach me and at first very distant. The more we spoke and drank, the more she opened up. She was an articulate and thoughtful girl, skinny with long legs and cropped auburn hair. Her best feature by far was her stomach that was revealed just enough from under her halter-top good idea of how flat and tone it was.

“I was Air Force,” she had said.

“We both were,” Daphne interjected.

“No shit,” I responded. “I’m stationed on the coast.”

“Cool beans,” Sabrina.

“Cool beans?!” Daphne cried out just before letting out this obnoxious snort. “Who says that anymore?”

Daphne was definitely the adventurous type. At first she had acted as the go between Sabrina and I. Daphne was an exotic brunette who lit up the room and made every man stop and take a second look. Her young nubile body screamed sex, right down the thong she wore that had the word “WHORE” emblazoned on it.

“I might have to test that out,” I said. I regretted it immediately. Too eager, I thought.

“Don’t tempt her,” Sabrina chimed in. Burn. Was that a hint of jealousy I sensed?

Having been the instigator I knew Daphne was bold and likely more open than her coed friend. She was a girl who exuded confidence and obviously was very focused on what she wanted. Everything about her made her desirable; from her Gina Gershon-esque lips, up to her deep blue eyes, and back down to her round firm ass. Every inch of her toyed and played with my imagination.

I couldn’t shake Sabrina though. Those shy smiles and her awkwardness made her endearing in ways I could never find Daphne endearing. Daphne is the friend for a night, whereas Sabrina was perhaps more.

After several drinks and a misadventure walking into the wrong bathroom Sabrina had begun to loosen up. And though it had been right under my nose the whole time I finally realized they were sort of together. I didn’t question their dynamic or intent. I had learned long ago to just go with it.
I spent the next twenty or so minutes just watching the two girls dance and do shots. Sweaty and breathing hard, Sabrina came and grabbed me and led me across the dancefloor. At first, I thought she wanted to dance and I was about to shake her off when she pushed me. I fell into the darkness and found myself being guided down by Daphne.

“Just go with it,” she said. I nodded in the affirmative.

Sabrina was loose. Sabrina was wired. She danced up to the edge of the booth we were seated in and parted my legs. She danced for me. Moving to the rhythm of the music, yet with just a twinge of awkwardness. It was the awkwardness that drew me in. Those little looks to see if I liked what I saw. Reaffirmation that she was pleasing. She was very pleasing.

I felt Daphne’s soft delicate hands run their way up my back, to my neck and then the back of my head. Her hands turned firm and she guided my head around. Our mouths me and her tongue invaded mine.

“Just go with it,” she repeated.

Sabrina had turned and dipped down, she ground her ass into my crotch. No doubt gauging what sort of impact she was having. I didn’t disappoint. Daphne reached over and began to encourage Sabrina with quick sharp slaps to her ass.

by We settled into a booth off to the side of the dance floor. . It was my first experience with two bi-sexual girls at once and at first I was understandably nervous yet excited by the possibilities, but as the minutes ticked I just began to enjoy the show and appreciate the beauty of two amazingly great looking girls throwing away their inhibitions and allowing their animalistic instincts to completely take over.
Immediately I had begun to get excited from watching them. It was almost voyeuristic in a sense, a twist on the normalcy I had been accustomed to in the small city I grew up in. I think that it turned them on even more that I was getting into it and it began to reflect in their performance. Everything about her made her desirable, and it was one of the most incredible things watching her go to work on her feisty red headed counterpart. My rod was rock hard from watching, and it soon became apparent that I was not the only one enjoying the show. Nearby a group of frat boy automatons sat admiring the view. They clamored to get a better view and soon a chorus of boyish chants rang out. Daphne rose up and looked over to the adjacent table and then headed south. Her tongue traced the curve along Sabrina's ever sloping and tightly formed stomach. Daphne being an exhibitionist rose to the occasion and began slipping Sabrina's short tight skirt down her silky smooth thighs.
For a brief moment time seemed to stand still as I waited in anticipation for Daphne's next act. Sabrina glanced towards me and we held a lustful gaze for several moments. In her eyes I didn't see the look of that same timid young girl who could barely muster the courage to approach me. Something had changed in those brief minutes following our encounter. As Daphne sank ever deeper into the booth Sabrina's eyes lit up, she lurched back and was overcome with the sensation of the hot moist tongue penetrating her inner sanctum. She reeled to the left and clutched my arm. The shock was overwhelming and before I knew it I had been pulled nearly on top of Daphne who was now working at a feverish pace. Her body had slid underneath the table and her head was lodged between the creamy white thighs of her best friend.
I struggled to maintain my balance and keep from crushing Daphne whose upper body rested on the seat below me. I braced my self against Sabrina's waifish frame. My hand rested on her small perky breast, but it was soon apparent that she could not comfortably support my weight. I inched closer careful not to interrupt the work already in progress. My hand trembled as I removed it from Sabrina's peak. I slowly guided it up her neck and across the contours of her peeked flesh. The thought of this girl willingly giving herself up to this was exciting. Many thoughts raced through my head but one in particular stood out, this girl wanted to be fucked and she wanted to be fucked hard. All my anxiousness ceased and I found I was no longer nervous. I was back where I liked to be, I was in charge. I gently guided my hand to the nape of her neck then slowly closed my fist around her long hair. I tugged just enough to get her attention and break her from her dazed state. She stared at me longingly. Red hues were sprayed across her face. Her skin was hot to the touch. I gently pulled her toward me. She offered no resistance at all and flashed me an approving smile. I stopped just inches before our lips were to meet. I held her in anticipation for several moments and watched excitedly as she moistened her lips with her tongue. I leaned in to her; she predictably closed her eyes and awaited the payoff that never came. I leaned back and watched a pleading look cross her face. I'm sure she was wrought with all sorts of emotions. Did she like to be teased? Should I end this charade? She had submitted her self to the will of Daphne and me. Whatever we wanted she to do was ours for the asking. I once again leaned in; I ran my tongue along her quivering lips and slowly parted her lips before I eased my tongue into her mouth. The sensation was electric. My member began to throb and I could hear my heart beat begin race. A massaging sensation began to dominate my lower extremity. The motion soothed me and intensified the feeling. As I began to withdraw I could feel Sabrina go limp, she had a look of supreme ecstasy wrapped across her beautiful face. As she layer back against the booth wall I glanced down to the exotic Daphne who was gently rubbing the existing bulge in my pants. A sly smile erupted from her and she pushed herself out from under the table and up towards me. Our mouths met half way and we exchanged a passionate kiss on the level of something I had never experienced before. The moment was momentous and branded me for life with an appreciation for experimental brunettes.
As things between Daphne and I began to heat up she suggested that we head to their room, "It's only a few blocks away." She said. After a little convincing I agreed to go. To the dismay of the Frat boys seated just feet from us the show was now officially over. I had a feeling of satisfaction as the frat boys watched me walk out of the bar with two beautiful bi-sexual women. Any man lives for that moment.

The hotel was not far from the lounge. However the walk was an agonizing one for me. I loved strolling through the streets hand in hand with two vixens but the anticipation was killing me. As we walked through the foyer of the hotel the feeling was almost unbearable. When the doors to the elevator slammed shut I pulled Daphne against me. I began tonguing the back of her earlobe and placed her hand on my now hard shaft. I moved her hand up and down against my groin while I slid my right hand around her waist and into her pants. As I pushed deeper into her world my index finger soon found her moist insides. I could feel her tremble a bit as I pushed the tip of my finger into her. Just as I prepared for a deeper insertion the elevator door sprung open revealing one of the hotels bell-boys. Embraced I immediately withdrew my hand and we began to move out of the elevator. Fortunately the room was not far.
As soon as we were in I sat down in a chair near the rear side of the room. Sabrina stretched out across the bed. Her skirt rose up just enough for me to steal a glimpse at her moist panties. I looked to Daphne and she sent me a seductive smile. She walked over to the mini-fridge and produced a bottle of wine. She slowly made her way towards me. She climbed onto my lap and began opening the wine. She took one sip then tipped it just enough for me to catch the cool liquid in my mouth. After I swallowed she leaned down and began kissing me deeply. My hands roamed free under her blouse and soon I was able to begin unbuttoning it. The sweet scent of her perfume filled the air as I exposed the flesh of her chest. I gently kissed her and eased up to unsnap her bra. It folded back with remarkable ease and her fleshy mounds were now mine for the nibbling. I filled my mouth with her breast as she moved her hands down to unbuckle my belt and release my man hood. I grabbed her hips and guided her to a more stable position. Her weight against my cock was almost unbearable. She slid back and then down to the floor. I quickly removed my shirt as her fingers pushed through the button on my pants. She cast me a childish look as she began to gently unzip my zipper. Before long I was in nothing but my boxers. As she slipped my boxers off I watched Sabrina begin to slip her panties down her long ivory legs and expose her fiery red bush. I smiled and then glanced down at Daphne who was busy marveling at my rod. "You're not going to become shy now are you?" I asked. She nodded assuring and replied, "No."
She took my cock into her hand and began to caress it ever so gently. She playfully kissed the head and then moved her tongue down along its flank. Daphne continued down and began licking my cock at its base. She lifted it up and tickled my balls with her tongue and placed one in her mouth. The feeling was beyond description. And as I looked her over a thought came to me. When I first saw this girl in the bar I never dreamed I would be invited up to her hotel let alone have her sucking on my cock. I decided then I would push my luck. As Daphne continued to suck on my manly member I looked over at Sabrina. Who by now had her fingers deep in her cunt. She was watching Daphne's face slide up and down my rod. "Crawl over here." I ordered. Sabrina was quick to comply. She sat up and crawled off the bed in my direction. As she closed in she stopped and removed her blouse. Her 34 c breast rubbed against my legs as she crawled and took up position next to Daphne. I watched in amazement as Daphne inhaled my limb and pushed it deep into her throat. The sight of two gorgeous chicks between my legs was surreal. As Daphne eased off my rod I motioned for Sabrina to suck it. She toyed with it at first bending I back and then she began to put the head in her mouth. She giggled at first then began to suck it. I pushed her head down gently and thrust my hips to ease it deeper into her mouth. A gag reflex erupted from her. "Too deep I asked?" She noddingly agreed. "Take it a lil at a time." Daphne instructed.
After a sip of wine Sabrina was ready to make another attempt. As she eased my fleshy member into her mouth I leaned back and allowed my self a moment to fully experience the sensation. Soon my cock was sliding effortlessly in and out of her beautiful mouth. It is a sight forever etched in my memory.
I was overcome by awe as I lay there pondering a thousand thoughts to. Every ounce of my being felt like it had ascended to another plane of existence. I was fulfilled. As I rolled over the two girls giggled playfully like two angelic beings part of some master plan. I felt lucky to have tasted and experienced them and knew this was not the last time our paths would meet, and as fate would have it there would be many more.