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My vagina had never pulsed like this before. Ached like this as my mind fluttered above the surrounding ballet of foreplay and temptation, letting desire and dream conjure up images of lusty debauchery after a mere glimpse of you. Look away, look back with curiosity. Away. Stolen glances building indelible impressions on my mind as shallowed breath acknowledged the rising heat within.
I’d played seduction games before, meant to test the waters and see if my wetness barometer indicated lascivious seas ahead.
But this! I’d never felt an instant, gut-wrenching need to submit. Deep, hurting so good for wanting so bad. This didn’t need warming up. This didn’t need lube. I was ready to bend at the waist, flip my red minidress hem up and over my waist, grab my ankles and wait for you to take me in any way you saw fit. I was willing to look past the obvious discomfort I’d feel from a vagina unprepared for intercourse, deal with the fallout of not having been ready for penetration. Even in my most delirious moments, hustled off to the back alley, clothes pushed away for lusty passion to take over, I’d always made sure wetness or lube coated me for pleasure from first thrust.
But now, I just wanted. Needed. Would give anything.
You looked away from your friends for a moment, their predictable phrases and gestures boring you. Amidst the alluring mischief of strobe lights and sound, you saw me. Stopped assessing the crowd and saw me. Seemingly admired me. Vulnerable, emotionally exposed me!
I commanded my eyes to move. I commanded my blank expression to come up with that look, that “Hey, sexy” expression, flying past the programmed responses you get in these random encounters when searching for connection but maybe not really.
But my face fucking abandoned me. Failed me!
“What a dork I must look like right now, that grade school glance across the cafeteria at your crush, oh shit they saw me moment. Only this was me: twenty nine year old, college bred, careered businesswoman feeling overwhelming angst. Memories of backing out of the high school freshman dance with Billie because I had a pimple above my lip angst.
You leave the cool kids and walk over to me. There’s no doubt. I’m putty already and you know it. As you approach with a catlike prowl I note a contour extending from your crotch, and my feet begin to shuffle slightly. A carabiner connects a black bottle with LUBE in bold letters to your belt loop.
“Mikey,” you say, extending mersin escort your elegant hand, dominant confidence in a simple gesture. I knew how to stand strong, own the room in my profession. I suffocated under your spell here.
“Jenna,” I reply, only this time I’m at least halfway normal in my aura of neediness.
“Have you been to a BDSM gathering before?” she asked in a clear, unabashed voice.
“No. A friend talked me into joining her, to see what it’s like.”
“And? What’s there to like?” Her eyes weren’t leaving me until she got an answer, knowing what the only truth would be.
My cunt spoke before my lungs could extricate words. The right words. The not-so-vulnerable way words were supposed to build an exchange, not leap into the abyss.
“You,” I said firmly.
There. I said what I thought, what I wanted, pimple lip be damned.
The corner of her mouth raised as she studied the subtle lines on my straining jawline and neck. I wanted to grab her head and pull her lips to mine right then, right now. I’d never been that bold before, but cuntfire demanded attention.
She flicked her jaw towards a door. “Come with me.”
I so wanted to come with her. Come for her. Taste her ripeness over and over as often as she wished.
She took my hand as we passed through the door, another door, then up stairs to a rooftop landing with loosely partitioned lounge areas. A gentle, cool breeze stirred my nipples to attention. All the while I watched her leather belt ride the crest of her tight ass, clad in black jeans and flowing down through legs perched on five inch heels. The glitter on her sleeveless top was hypnotic.
We entered a cabana and pulled the drape closed, knotting a cord so others would know it was occupied. A hint of “what the fuck are you doing?” waifed in my head.
But there was no time to dwell. Mikey turned, took my other hand as well and pulled me to her. Pelvic heat raged under my red minidress.
“What do you want?” she said as a firm directive.
“I’ve never…”
She cut me off.
“No. You’re nothing but now. What do you want?”
“I…I want to be taken by you. Filled with pleasure In ways I think only you can.”
“And why is that?”
“Well, because you’re beautiful, and because I can’t wait to touch you and please you and have you take me anyway you want to.”
“Take you? How would I do that?”
Embarrassment swept to my side, wanting muğla escort to grab my wrist and hustle me off. I shoved it away.
“I want what you have between your legs deep in me, fucking me over and over and over again until I can’t take it anymore. Then more. Please.”
I’d like to think it was the ‘please’. The submission to lust. To her.
“But as I said, I’ve never done anything like this before.”
She looked me over, as if to give me a moment to run away. I didn’t.
“You have now,” she said. “Kneel.”
I dropped to my knees onto the outdoor carpet, keeping my gaze forward. She cupped my chin, raising my eyes to meet hers.
“Pick a safe word.”
“Red. Red is my stop word,” I said with commitment.
“And you ‘keep going’ word?”
“Yellow,” I said with a relaxing breath. She was still holding my chin.
“Then what’s green?”
“More. More, please.”
An eternal second passed.
“Take my shoes off.”
I cradled each of her feet and slid off ankle high boots, dutifully placing them to the side.
“Slide my jeans off. Slowly.”
I took a deep breath, then methodically undid her belt, slid her pants off, folded them reverently, and placed them aside. As they came down, I was met with yoga shorts that held her harnessed monster against her thigh.
“I would love to take my time with you, pet,” she spoke, “but since you’ve asked for long and strong, we’d best get to it, don’t you think?”
I nodded, not wanting to say anything more than asked. I was hers because she would fulfill my wanton desire. The one causing wetness to drip down my thigh. I’d never gotten this wet this fast, this ready to get fucked.
She moved a bit closer now, so that my face was an inch or two from her. I inhaled her unusual scent of lavender and leather.
“Free my cock.”
I slid fingertips under waistband and slowly pulled down her shorts. As I got past the harnessed dildo tip it sprung to life, smacking me in the face before settling alongside my cheek.
I giggled from both surprise and joy as I proceeded to remove and fold her remaining garment. As she took a step back, my eyes fixed on the impaling tool before me. My mouth reactively dampened. I wanted to kiss it, suck it, show my adoration.
She had taken off her top during this, and now stood before me naked but for harnessed heat.
I began to stand, wanting to get my hands and mouth on her beautiful breasts, but nevşehir escort she placed her hand on my shoulder.
“Nope. Straight to fucking with you. Turn around and bend over.”
I rose, turned and grabbed onto a futon frame for the support I hoped I’d need to drive back into her.
She kicked my legs apart, a rough move that reminded me who’s in charge. My breathing became shallow, my heart pounding in exhilaration.
Who was I right now? Where did this person come from? Was this a part of me really?
Two fingers plunged into my sopping wetness, and I gasped. Holy fuck! I’m fucking drenched. I looked around and was appreciative to see bottles of water. Rehydration would be a must.
Her fingers probed, seemingly scouting my cave of desire for shape and texture. A third finger joined to tap on my G-spot, and I gasped in pleasure.
“Reach back with one hand and stick two fingers in with me.”
I adjusted position, reached back and found my opening. Her fingers emerged to guide my digits in, cupping them for full penetration. She was using my fingers to milk me, and I loved it. Heat raged as the pace picked up, then she reinserted her two fingers atop mine. I groaned deeply, legs buckling as an orgasm erupted.
She eased our motions to slowly back down from heavenly bliss before moving back.
“Get on the floor, pet, on your back.”
I couldn’t move fast enough. Her cock was the key to unlock my lust.
“Please fuck me,” I whimpered.
She positioned herself over me, grazing the dildo tip pervasively across my opening.
“You’re so ready for this, aren’t you?”
“Yes! Oh, yes, fill me with your cock!” I screamed.
She impaled me in one sweeping motion, hitting my cervix with its head to extract a high-pitched yalp. My head flung back as she slowly gyrated in me, finding that perfect alignment. I wailed at the fullness, whimpering “Please.”
“Please what, my pet?”
“Please fuck me!”
And so the dance began. I’d been taken aback by my carnal self, this submission to pleasure far different to anything I’d ever imagined. I snaked my legs tight around her waist, tucked her in tight and rode her with every bit of energy I could muster.
The next two orgasms were long and powerful, like bison thundering through my loins and heart as screams of pleasure erupted from my lungs over and over.
Soon she was slowing, then easing to a stop, our sweaty bodies intermingled and cock still buried in me. Then she eased out to lay next to me, cradling me in her arms with feathered kisses.
With stabilized breathing regained, I began to move.
“May I please you now?” I requested.
She smiled, eased the harness off of her body and reclined on the futon.
“Feast, my pet.”
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