I’ve no idea how I ended up here.
Alone.
… Well… alone-ish, ‘cause I can still hear W.’s breathing coming from the corner of the room.
On my knees.
Blindfolded, plugged, and my pussy loose and wet and ready for god knows what he’s had prepped for tonight.
… Actually… I know exactly how I ended up here, but that is not the epitome of this story.
The part of me that still takes this playfully and slightly amusing struggles to come out in the light. An uncalled shady smile and a giggle here and there, especially when W. gives me a break from tease and please. But now, the break takes a bit too long, and that gives all the opportunity to my nervousness to… oh crap! My heart takes a violent leap hearing the click of the doorknob turning.
The bull has arrived.
I suck in a deep breath and I hold on to it. I twitch slightly and I swallow empty as the door closes behind me. I can’t measure in time how long it takes until I hear his first step, but I swear he waited some amount of time in which I imagine he measured his toy for the night. My thoughts overlap, excitement builds, his steps close in, my body shakes, a new soft murmur on W.’s breath makes its way to my ears. I arch my back and straighten up. This is happening.
No playful.
No amusing.
This is serious.
And along with that though, the doubt of my performance clouds my mind a bit. I know I’m safe. It’s up to me how much I will endure, it’s up to me to let go and break over the limits. I have the full control and I have no one to impress by otherwise. It’s not a matter of my safety or suffering that I’m concerned about. It’s a matter of me living up to this. Of enjoying it. It’ll be game over if I don’t. I close my eyes… not that it makes any sensory difference with the satin over my eyes… and I exhale my long overdue deep breath.
I’m a good girl!
And good girls don’t fuck up.
And hell will freeze over before I quit!
And that’s not gonna happen, because I like it hot.
With his last step laid on the wooden floor, he reaches his final destination: in front of me.
‘Have your way with her.’ W.’s hoarse voice breaks the silence and echoes in my mind.
I look up to the bull through closed eyelids and satin and I set my hands on the sides of his jeans’ waistline, then I trace softly to the middle.
I unbuckle, unbutton, unzip. I reach and I gasp!
W. wasn’t kidding when he said girth! His cock is huge! Even before hardening.
I open my mouth… I wonder… ?
I stick my tongue out flat over my bottom lip… Is it the kind of cock that just hardens into shape… ?
I take him in… Or will it grow much bigger… ?
I swallow, this time not empty. My mouth is watering.
He swells in my mouth. Stroke by stroke. Bigger. Harder.
I try to manage the spit in my mouth through calculated tongue and lips grip, but that’s a lost game since the moment his hand locks in the fiery red of my hair. He breaks through the barriers of my preset control, holding and pushing. His under-head sliding wet down my tongue, his girth taking its rightful place. I let him, and I open, and I drip. My spit on the floor, my tears staining the satin and my pussy… Oh! My! God! I didn’t hear W. moving from his chair until I feel him under me, his tongue gash through my folds. I arch my back, popping my butt up, trying to get a hold of his tongue on my pulsing needy clit, but this grants just the very last bit of my focus into the bull’s will. And he puts my vulnerability to best use, forcing himself to the depths of my throat, holding himself deep, my tongue flat wet over his balls. I squeeze his length with all I have, willing and unwilling, and I curl my back in need to find W.’s face under me and fuck! I’m too aroused! And double fuck, he’s nowhere in my reach! I feel his hands on my hips, but I need my soft spot tempered, so I take things into my own hands. I let go of my instinctive but unplanned and also futile sort of push on the bull’s waist and I run my hand between my legs and oh! Havens and hell how good my vocal chords vibrate on his thickness down an uncontrollable moan when I stroke my pulsing nub. I’m one touch away from cuming, but I split my fingers over my pussy, leaving my clit free, sloppy wet to the mercy of a chilly draft as I hump the air. I want more buildup before I explode first time. I swear I’d stretch a smile of pride to my self-control if my mouth wasn’t so full.
‘Her pussy is ready too. You can take it whenever you want. I’ve prepped it good.’ I can hear W.’s voice coming from his self assigned corner seat, but hell if I noticed when he left from under me. It’s nearly impossible to focus on all the narrative going on, but the sharpness of my mind never ceases to amaze me, even in times like this.
You see, it’s not by accident that I chose the capital ‘W.’ in his conscript nick to represent the lead in the story. There’s a duality to his character, reflecting the ‘double v’ of his name in reality.
I almost got lost in the dynamics of our actions. Almost felt sorry for almost forgetting the presence of the mastermind behind this party as I gave into my selfishness through pleasure. Almost. If it wasn’t for that damn cockiness in the tone of his voice and the choice of his words that clicked some sense into my momentarily numbed mind.
There’s a palpable difference between the gentleman W. who walked me at his arm, in pride and respect, with high dignity matching my high stiletto’s heels, like a precious trophy and the smug W. who obliterated all my of grace and kneeled me down as an object to serve his primal devotion.
But I let him. First, for my unexplored pleasure, second, out of my feline curiosity and third, to return his favor, the same illusion, so when I rascal for real, it’d be more intense. Embrace the unexpected kind of thing, on all ends, two can play this game of three.
By the time I finally get ahold of how to breathe more relaxed with a mouth so full and finally the tension in my stomach loosens a bit and finally the concerns about the too expressive and genuine sound of gags and chokes and slurps of spit wear off, the bull sets my mouth free and moves me to bed. Face up, legs spread, heels over his shoulders.
My spit from his cock blends with the wet of my pussy in a slap of his cock over my split. Oh god! I don’t know what contributes more to my twitch and shiver reaction to his action… The sound of the wet slap tingling my ears? My needy numb getting its crave? Or the weight of his member? Because fuck! I felt it heavy! I don’t even know with that size if he let it drop or gave it a push from his hand. A little soundly sigh slips trough my lips and deepens in courage when I feel him rubbing himself pressed to my clit, slippery stroke after slippery stroke. Christ! My heart rate rattles mad in both anticipation and anxiety to the thought of how he’ll feel inside. And fuck! He’s teasing, slipping lower down my split, then back up and back down and up and down and GASP! I suck in a half breath. He sets on my entrance and jolts in. I moan my grasp of air back to him. It’s just his bulky head that slipped in, but hell! How good it feels to be filled with this thick in surprise, giving a nudge of a reminder all the way down to the plug in my ass.
He groans through slow but demanding thrusts, advancing in balance, inch by inch, sliding in through wet and tight as I struggle to take him. He makes sure I stay in place with his left hand fit on my waist. No way in hell this would have fit without W. skillful previous preparations. My moans deepen, on the verge of screaming, through gritted teeth in pain and bliss. And by the time he pulls out to give me his full length, I don’t get to suck all the air I need in my lungs, his hand fits over my mouth to shut me down as both mine close over his wrist tight. I didn’t get to see him but by the way his forearm feels in my palms, it’s not just his cock that’s huge, he’s a massive man.
‘Such a good wifey you are, Rosie! I’m so proud of you how well you take such a fat cock! Didn’t I tell you that you have it in you?’ W.’s words press on my nerves as deep as the bull’s cock penetrates. A caring remark spiced with spikes of character assassination, just to make sure he takes me through all the emotions there are to be felt. ‘Wifey’…, he could have said ‘slut’, but that wouldn’t have reminded me of all the limits I’m crossing. A tint of perfect contrast between nice and bad to keep the adrenaline flowing.
The bull starts to jab into me, full length, full girth, his strength unbreakable, holding me, building my pleasure with each stoke of full, until the struggle starts turning into comfort and he turns me on all fours, to show me there’s always more. He takes me from behind, hard. Harder than before, diving balls deep, his pelvis slapping my butt on each head to base pound. Although he holds my waist between his hands, this time I’m free to breathe, I’m free to scream, I’m free to feel! And I am! Holly hell! How my pleasure builds! As full as my pussy and as thick as his cock!
I explode! Thighs wet down to my knees, bed sheets probably soaked, nothing left to squeeze through my stretched pussy, but my muscles tense hard as pleasure jolts my body numb into consumption.
I don’t get to catch my breath as he releases me of the tension from my inside when he pulls out, and I feel his hand on my jaw the very next second, his still rock hard cock force-feeding me my very own spike of creamy sour bliss. Mmm… talk about rebuilt, just as fast as Jesus pledged to raise the temple of Jerusalem after its destruction.
W. makes his way behind me. I swear there’s not a second of time wasted in favor of monotony! I feel his hand pulling on the plug, then his face buried between my cheeks. Oh Lord! His tongue on my rim… fuck me! I suck the bull with the same hunger W. tongues my ass, my back arched to the point my spine hurts, his tongue alternating from loose strokes to erect dips, spinning all my sensitivity, blending it in excitement. I’m not sure if it’s him or I or the bull who’s enjoying this more, but it’s the bull who puts an end to it by grabbing me out of W.’s reach and plants me on my two feet next to the bed.
It takes me a few good seconds to get my head back from the clouds and put my finger on the bull’s assertive dominance to deprive W. from devouring me.
He grabs by wrist, not in an aggressive way, rather caring, with a twist of anticipating it’s a limited care and he guides me to follow. With my poor orientation skills, that usually have me get lost in any two or more bedroom apartments, I’ve no idea where he’s taking me until I feel the fresh air on my skin and in my lungs. We’re out on the balcony! And this is where the care ends with a firm drag of his hand from my wrist while he’s positioning me in front of him. He corners me from behind, forcing small steps in advance until I hit the railing. His hand fits between my shoulder blades and he gives me a sturdy push, forcing me to bend over while his other hand curls around my waistline and locks tight. Oh crap! Oh fuck! I’m hanging loose, in the open air, naked! I’m not worried a bit that I could fall, I’m more than safe in his strength, the exposure is what concerns me. I’m bent over, plain naked… ah! I don’t get to think anymore when I feel his girth forcing at my entrance. I raise on my tip toes to grant him better access to drill me to whatever audience is out there. Ah! The thrill! I can feel the adrenaline sprint through my veins! Intensity building with each heavy thrust, madly demanding my climax through the chills of the outside. He takes my convulsions of pure satisfaction, when I burst again, driving my rush of pleasure into consumption as I hang over the railing at his mercy.
He brings me back to the bed, all worn out, as a token of his dominance, making it clear that the culmination of my ecstasy belongs to him. He takes a sit in the bed, his back set against the bed rest and drags me into position to suck him again, demanding that I show gratitude for what he’s done to me outside. And boy! Do I comply to his exigency in order to please in hunger. W. compliments my sloppy work on the bull’s cock with equal sloppy over my ass.
I suck, he licks. I drool, he spits. I grab, he fingers. I twist, he stretches.
He’s getting me ready for the bull while I get the bull ready for me. But again, the bull doesn’t allow W. too much on the post, or me at my post. He cuts the game of back and forth and drags me over to his lap, impelling me down his cock. Fuck! A deep moan escapes me. I can’t get used to his size, each time I welcome him in, the girth and feel of stuffed overwhelms me in surprise. W. follows, his tongue taking back its rightful place in the skillful game of rimming as the bull spreads me up for him. If until now the course of actions was more or less scripted with assigned roles, now I can feel some palpable tension, crave, lust. I pin my hands to the bull’s chest and I put on my game of riding, self fucking me with a big thick cock and a tongue up my ass. I’m restless in emotions in anticipation to what’s coming. I want more! I think I do… I’d like a cock instead of tongue and fingers… I think I do. I’m somewhat worried about how much space there is left to be filled in me with the bull’s cock stuffed in my pussy. Oh my! I’m about to find out soon. W. rises, his chest spreads over my back, his cock in his hand, his tip slipping up and down my free hole. I kinda loose some enthusiasm in movement but my heart picks up the lost speed. I feel his skin part from mine, to watch, I imagine, how he penetrates. My first instinct as I feel the pressure of his tip is to pull away, but there’s not exactly room to move through the bull’s strong grip on my hips.
He insists, I protest. He slips in, I squirm. He holds, my head falls back. He presses deeper, I break through a moan and I surrender.
Fuck me! He feels amazing. They feel amazing! I only get sympathy from them until W. makes sure I’m adjusted to them inside me. It’s the little things like these, unnoticeable care, that sets the real leads in this dynamic. Maybe I wasn’t supposed to pick up on it, but I have. Or maybe I got it all wrong, but we’ll see.
Two men inside of me, blindfolded, sympathy wearing off, pace increasing. The more I try to fight for control, the more I’m being restrained, the harder I’m being fucked. I close my eyes to feel and I let myself immersed, drown into my senses as they spin drunk around me, braiding, welding me into the new. The feel of fullness, the grips, the bites, the sucking, the pressure in my fingernails pressing in… I don’t even know whose flesh, the heat, the chills from sweat, the groaning and growls and moans, the skin slap, the crick of bed, vibrations, infused scents… it’s all making me lose my mind! Raw pleasure mixed with sweet anger! I expand my motion limitation by managing to free one hand from W.’s grip at my back. Of course it’s him who fucks up and can’t constrain me properly! The corner of my lips curl up in a small victory smile, but as tempting as it is to land a dashing slap in the bulls face as a demonstration of my rebellion and expose W.’s sloppy grip, I choose to run my hand between my legs and I break myself. Through all their dedication, I make a statement of claiming my orgasm myself and send them to their rightful places as mere tools of pleasure. At least that’s how it plays in my head.
‘Her ass is ready for you, you can take that too.’ W.’s voice cuts through my imaginary victory, underlining the assigned roles back into the hierarchy. Yeah… great timing.
I instinctively fight his words with struggle. And this time my free hand slaps. I show red to his precious competent bull as a reply. And as satisfying as the tingling on my palm feels from the contact with the bull’s face, as fast I’m moved and restrained in brute force, face down in bed, the bull over me. Uh-oh! One strong grip over my hands crossed at the small of my back, his cock held and pressing in my ass. I’m in trouble. Maybe it wasn’t such a great idea to slap him just before the most sensitive action on tonight’s program… I gulp down the lump in my throat, squeeze my eyes shut, clench my teeth and I wait for my punishment, considering breaking the role at any time and putting a verbal end to this the moment it becomes too much… if that’s still on the table. He forces down strong, but only until I open up and he slips through, then he stops. I breathe out deep in relief, but I still expect more. But my fear slowly dissolves as he’s patiently making his way through, definitely pushing more than I’d indulge, but not too much over the limit.
He knows what he holds in his hand, he knows how to use it, he knows what he has under him and he knows how to use that too and that’s so fucking hot! With that girth, it sure feels like I’m taking it in my ass for the first time, but done properly. I lose a bit of focus as W.’s tongue tickles my feet, spiraling through my toes, licking and sucking. He’s giving me a treat for putting out such an effort, distracting me just enough as the bull makes one last thrust to pierce through my second round of muscles, stretching me open, sliding all the way down. Holly hell! That pain! That pleasure! That slide! He’s in! I don’t even know when, but I started pushing slowly towards him, raising my butt, a bit to the sides, a bit up, a bit down, as I end up milking his thick pride shy, it’s all the movement I’m allowed to do under his restrain. He joins in motion as I adjust, in rising pace, going faster, harder, deeper, up until he throbs into me. By the time he sets my hands free, he’s sure I’m way past my rebellion phase, that I’ve accepted my defeat in pleasure, that my free hand will rush under me to trigger my burst. He’s close and so am I! In a few good strokes of my fingers slipping wet over my clit, I explode again under his dominance. I feel his pulses of pleasure complimenting mine, his seed filling me, in thrust after thrust and squirt after squirt, through his heavy grunts and my deep moans until there’s nothing left but exhaust.
I lay still, in my pleasure agony, for a minute or so, after I’ve been dispossessed from the bull as he stepped into the shower to clean himself. I catch my breath in the silence, nothing but a hum buzzing in my ear when I notice W. crashed on the bed, on his back, cock in his hand, still hard and a stupid smile of satisfaction on his face. I lock my eyes on his and I match his smile as I get up. It’s time for my rascal. I mount him. The time of his reign ends here. I get his hand out of the way and I grab his cock with mine. I squeeze hard at his base, harder than comfortable, and I hold for the price of a few seconds. His smile widens, so is mine. I start stroking him, soft this time, with care as he’s a bit too dry to grip hard, but I know how to handle a cock under whatever circumstances and I want him to feel my talent too. I fit my thumb to his under-head and I circle soft a couple of times in the same loose grip. I let him free as I feel him hardening rigid in my hand and without taking my eyes off of his, or breaking my smile, I lick my palm wet and I grip him again. I give him a nice wet sloppy twist stroke down to his base and I rise to take him. I guide his tip to my pussy entrance and I come down on him, gracefully, my lips parted to let out a soundly sigh. The good girl in me needs to step aside for a bit and take a break, it’s time for crazy.
I fit my left hand in his throat and the moment I let go of his base with my right, I land a slap over his face with no holding back. I’m pretty sure the bull could hear it from under the running water in the shower.
‘Is this what you wanted to see?’ I ask in a demanding tone.
He wants to react but I think I’ve surprised him. I feel him rattle under me like a throttled V12. I hit again and I continue:
‘Me being fucked like a little whore for you, in front of you?’
The adrenaline rush from the surprise is wearing off on him, I can feel him breaking tension under me. I lean my weight in my hand on his throat, my grip becoming tighter, me coming closer, I spit in his face then I start to grind. I grind on his cock from nothing but my hips, in such precise circular moves of back and forth that a book would stand still on my head just like on a professional model’s down a catwalk. I bring up the pace and I add more depth in my movement in all three dimensional axis. I invest all of my energy into another strong slap in his face, then I come closer to him.
‘Do you like this?’ I ask through my riding act, but I don’t let him answer. ‘Do you like this pain? Physical and emotional…’
He eagerly nods his head ‘yes’. I break the grip on his throat and I run my hands down his chest with my sharp nails pressed in his skin so deep I’m sure it’ll leave a mark, then I go lower with my right, to his cock. I hold it as I pull out from him and I set his tip to my ass. I moan deep coming down on him.
‘Mmm… yeah! He felt so good in me! So thick! So full!’
I start to grind.
‘Can you feel him too? His thick bull competence… inside of me? Mmm!’
And I keep riding him in my ass, he likes it, I feel his need to react, yet he forces himself to stay still in this pre-set mirage role in which he’s supposed not to perform.
‘But you know what’s better?’
His drunk in pleasure eyes set on mine beg me to continue, to keep feeding the fantasy. But I have no intention to follow the script of labels. It’s time to break the mechanical methodical.
‘You!’
He gasps a bit uncomfortable and I continue his still undetected out of confusion torture that I have in store for him.
‘Your cock!’
I bring up the pace faster. He frowns.
‘Your groans!’
Harder.
‘Your touches!’
Deeper.
‘Your tongue!’
I keep fucking him hard in revenge and I hurt him with the unexpected truth he doesn’t want to hear.
‘The look in your eyes… like now for example… you’re surprised.’
I lean down on him and I kiss him deep. It almost feels like I’m abusing his mouth. It’s time for his two parallels to meet and merge. The safety from controlled make-believe pain he craves so much to the real pain.
And that, ladies and gentlemen, is the epitome of this story. The true contrast of duality.
‘You feed on your pain, but how does it feel when I poke over the limit? To step outside the lines of the script?’
Rhetorical questions ambush to destabilize, so he’d let the real pain in. I rise. In all this paradoxical mesh of lust and conciseness, I go for the cherry on top. I run my hand to my back, I grab his balls and I squeeze. Hard! If pain is what he likes, it’s pain I’ll give him in all forms. He grabs me by the hips, turns me over and throbs into me, drilling mad in anger, free, demanding, possessive, claiming raw another orgasm, with the cock up my ass, his pelvis vibrating my clit, screams and groans depriving our hearings. He falls limp over me after the cosmic consumption of both of our pleasure, both struggling to even our breathing. I hug him soft and I whisper to his ear:
‘Nurturing yourself in fake humiliation won’t last forever. Be a man for once. Fall in love, feel the danger. Make it real.’