Seven Different Kinds of Smoke

Angry purple indentations on my wrists, from the steel handcuffs--which became a necessity when I couldn't follow his instructions and keep my fingers out of my sopping wet pussy while I throated his thick, throbbing cock. I deserved the restraint, but he made them oh so tight...

My blonde hair, feeling like it's been jerked out at the roots--from him grabbing handfuls of my locks, wrapping them around his hands and pulling my head every which way, from taking him down my throat, to licking his shaft, to kissing and sucking on his balls...

My jaw--my god, I thought it was bad when it was numb. It aches unbelievably, a result of working his shaft from every possible angle, deep, shallow and everywhere in between, for nearly an hour before being rewarded with his hot cum spurting against the back of my throat! I guess he must have followed the sage advice from the men's magazines, and spanked it just before I showed up at his door...

Speaking of which--spanking--oooooooooooh. I still had the red hand prints emblazoned on my tush this morning, a hot throbbing painful reminder of the pounding he gave me from behind--my face buried in his sofa cushion as I screamed my fucking head off--still unsure of whether in pleasure from the nice hard cock brutally nailing my g-spot, or the pain of the open-handed pummeling being administered to my lovely ass! Oh what I would give to have a nice soft pillow to sit on--but then, everyone in the office would know...

The rug burns--from spending nearly the entire evening on my knees sucking his cock and taking it between my boobs--and of course the doggy-style date-rape which hurt so good! My knees feel like they're on fire...

The soreness--from our interlude at the tattoo shop and the resulting artwork on my chest--the words explaining whom I belong to, and what activity someone with my morals is best suited for...

The deep painful bruising all over my neck, shoulders and breasts--from the biting as I impaled myself on him--the harder I rode him, the more vicious it became but there was no way I could ever stop...

Recipe: Morning Protein Shake

Ingredients

1 sleeping boyfriend or husband
1 horny cumslut
2 silk scarves

1. Preheat cumslut by masturbating to orgasm next to husband.
2. Tie husband's wrists to bed frame.
3. Peel boxers off of husband to reveal hard cock.
4. Baste cock gently with tongue until shaft is glazed with saliva.
   
5. Taking shaft firmly in hand, stroke up and down while also rotating hand.
   
6. Husband should now be fully awake. Ignore pleas to wrap your lips around his cock or to impale your dripping pussy with it. Continue stroking, varying depth of the strokes and continuing to rotate wrists.
   
7. Dribble saliva onto cockhead for lubrication as needed.
8. Continue kneading and stroking until husband is ready to cum. Toes may curl slightly, moaning and breathing at near orgasmic levels, and shaft should be beginning to pulse and throb in your hand.
9. Remove hand. Husband should groan and attempt to free his hands to finish the job. Timing is important; cock should be standing straight up and jism should begin erupting and streaming in beautiful rivulets down his shaft.
10. When finished observing this lovely sight, slide lips over cockhead and engulf him in your mouth. Full orgasm should follow.
    

Wakeup

Waking up alone today.....

Rather excited, after having some rather vivid dreams about you.... I'm already quite wet, and if you were here this morning, I would already be straddling you, after waking you with the obligatory headjob.

I guess I'll have to make do with what I have though. Pulling my nightshirt up to expose my chest....I tentatively lift one of my breasts, tonguing the nipple then sucking it into my mouth. Getting it nice and hard so that I can get busy nibbling it. All the while, rubbing my thighs together while resisting the urge to let my hands begin wandering down below.

Once I'm thoroughly stimulated, and not a moment before, I'll reach into my nightstand and grab my favorite vibrator. My hand snaking around the outside of my leg, giving me a very nice angle to slip the toy inside, while I rub myself softly with my other hand.

It will not be long at all, I'm sure, before your name escapes my lips amid the moans and yelps of pleasure....

Nine Minutes

BZZZZZZZZ BZZZZZZZZ BZZZZZZZZ BZZZZZZZZ BZZZZZZZZ !

He paws at the alarm clock, his fingers stabbing for the SNOOZE button. His morning ritual.

He'll drift back off in a few seconds, then repeat the process nine minutes later.

Like hell.

I'm not going to be able to get back to sleep, dammit, why should he?

Straddling him, leaning down to kiss him as his hairy chest tickles my sensitive nipples.

Reaching over to shut off the damned alarm clock for good. He doesn't need it anymore, he's fully awake.

Mmmmmmmmm, is he ever....

Picture This...

...me, lying there on the pink quilt on Jessica's daybed...

...her childhood teddy bears pushed hastily aside...

...her bedroom door locked, her parents and younger brothers bustling about
downstairs, oblivious...

...my wrists bound, with my own hose, to the white bars of the daybed...

...Jessica kneeling on the floor, pushing my legs apart with her
shoulders...

...sliding her glass dildo deep into my ass...

...eyeing me with the look of a woman possessed...

...her cheeks already glazed with my wetness...

...she lowers her head again as she pushes the toy deeper...

...I tremble uncontrollably as I try to hold my screams in...

The Need for Speed

I am nervous as I drive up, and see that you are already home. Hesitantly I walk into the house, knowing and fearing what is to come.

You're sitting at the kitchen table. Not even making eye contact with you, I reach into my purse and pull out the folded yellow piece of paper. It's still slightly stained with a few of my teardrops, from my unsuccessful attempts to invoke sympathy from the policeman.

Trembling, I remember last time, and how long it was before I was able to wear a bra again--and that was only 14mph over the limit, not 22.

I bite my lip and curse myself--*why* didn't I throw out that cat o' nine tails during spring cleaning, when I had the chance?

Vainly, I hope that you will be understanding. Or at the very least that I will be allowed to wear a t shirt this time.

I look at you, and I wait.

The Encounter

Biting my lip, watching her next to her minivan at the gas pump across from me, and beginning to feel that familiar tingling. What can I say--I have a thing for soccer moms.

Walking up to her, and leaning in close, my breasts brushing lightly against her shoulder, speaking softly in her ear: "You know, if I were into women--which I am--I think I'd pull that sundress off of you and devour you."

Then turning away, driving off. I've given her plenty to think about, don't you agree?