Not There

January 17th, 2010

At first, I don’t hear the key in the door. I am busy, distracted by the vibrations against my flesh and my soft moans. The door opens and when it closes, I hear it. I know it is him (who else could unlock that door) and that he will soon find me. I debate turning off and covering up but decide against it. I continue to thrust the toy in and out of my cunt, already slick with arousal and lube.

The atmosphere changes as he almost enters the room, stopping suddenly in the door way. My face is turned away and I pretend not to know he is there. I imagine his mouth hanging open and he’ll swallow his words to take advantage of the situation. I strain to hear him breathe just as he must be straining to control it, keep it quiet.

I moan for effect and slowly pleasure myself with the vibrator. I extract it leisurely from my pussy, running the tip along my lips and doubling back. I rest it against my clit, gasping at the sensation before sliding it back inside my body, angling against my most sensitive spots. I feel myself swell and back off, not yet wanting to release that flood gate.

Just in time, he distracts me, having moved from the door to the bed. His weight shifts the mattress and a shiver runs down my spine. From my position, on hands and knees, I cannot see him and I dare not look over my shoulder. I trail the vibrator from my clit toward my breasts, slowly circling my nipples. He moves closer and I can feel his breath, hot on my skin but not a word is spoken. We both know he is there, we both refuse to acknowledge it.

I tense, almost started at the touch of his fingers, lightly caressing my lips. I rest the toy on the bed, still on, and move my now free hand between my legs, careful not to touch his. I don’t want to break the spell. I plunge several fingers into my vagina. They are eagerly taken in and coated in my juices. I pull them out slowly, sure they are glistening and spread myself wide, sure he is watching. I retreat my hand from its revealed position, grasp the vibrator once more.

He takes the opportunity and I am surprised by his tongue on my clit, zoning in exactly where he needs to be. His tongue flicks and swirls; his lips surround my erect organ and he sucks it into his mouth. I respond with appreciative moans and he buries his face deeper, moaning as well, releasing soft vibrations against my flesh.

Still, we don’t speak, perpetuating the facade. He backs away and adjusts his position. I take the time to slide the vibrator back into my cunt, pushing it against my G-spot. This time I am ready and the pulsations begin the flow. Quickly removing the toy, I push the flood of ejaculate out in a healthy stream. I can feel a hand brush my thigh as he holds it between my legs but not for long. His mouth replaces his hands, drinking of me and he sucks and licks every last drop from my lips and my thighs, leaving them wet with his saliva.

I am empty, but not finished. Not yet. The vibrator finds it way between my legs once more, pushing at my clit. I rub, pressing feverishly to build myself to orgasm. This time he doesn’t touch, at least not me. There is the sound of a zipper, fabric rustling and I know his cock is in hand. I imagine its shape, its size, texture and taste. I am licking my lips without realizing, the sudden fantasy bringing me closer to the edge. I remember how his hard cock feels against me, inside me and pretend the vibrator is as good. It’s not but I pretend, anyway.

We pretend we are alone, he stroking his cock and me with the vibrator pressed against my sex. We are both hot and I am more than sufficiently wet. The bed moves with our movements but I ignore it. I am masturbating furiously as he breathes raggedly. We are both close. As I feel myself about to peak, he moans behind me. I imagine the look on his face as he does, a contorted mixture of pleasure and effort and am sent over the edge myself. I feel the contractions of my muscles, a quick succession of orgasm that fades not long after it begins. I am not immediately aware of the hot cum that he landed on the back of my thighs but it cools quickly and gravity pulls it down my skin.

I turn off the vibrator, drop it between my legs. We are still silent, except for the sound of our heavy breathing and his pants becoming zipped once more. He climbs off the bed and quietly makes his way toward the door. As my heartbeat slows and breathing quiets, I hear the door open and close, once more the sound of keys jingling in the lock.

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Categories: Stories

Three

June 13th, 2009

My legs are spread, knees bent, feet planted flat on the bed as she knees between them. One hand probes inside, fingers curling upward to caress that sacred spot. She does it well, evoking sensations I didn’t even know existed. I think she may know my body better than I ever will. Her tongue dances across my clit, a touch much lighter than I am accustomed to, much lighter than I would usually want. From any other person, this attention would only be teasing and I would find myself frustrated but she is a pro and the pleasure she gives dwarfs that of pleasure I’ve had in the past. I know now, it’s only the tip of an iceberg.

I restrain myself, with a bit of caution, from grinding against her face. Not knowing what her reaction might be to such demand. I couldn’t if I wanted to, anyway. His body is leaning over mine, his familiar weight and smell and skin gracing my senses. There is little room for my escape, not that I want it.

His tongue joins hers, lavishing my clit. Teeth gently pull at my lip; I’m sucked into a mouth. His, I assume. The touch is rougher than she has been so far. He knows I like strong sensations. For a moment, I wonder if their eyes are meeting, or closed or awkwardly avoiding eachother. I wonder where his hand, the one not supporting himself on the bed, is. I think to myself that it’s probably traveled to her ass and crack a smile. There is a sound, guttural and heavy. I realize it must be me, moaning.

My back arches off the mattress as I push my hips toward their hungry mouths. I am wet. My pussy is wet. My clit is wet. The aromas of arousal and spit mingle, and fill the air. It is not an entirely pleasant smell but I turn my attention away and run my hand across his skin. It’s also so smooth and nearly hairless. I’ve always liked that and my hand glides effortlessly down his chest, his stomach and light to the tip of his cock. He moans in response, his cock long sprung to life and I wrap my finger around his erection. He feels so silky in my hand. I have been constantly bewildered by the erect penis. Soft on the outside, hard within. It boggles my mind yet I love it.

I slowly stroke his shaft, following my hand with my eyes. In my position it’s difficult to look at much else besides his body. Precum has already decided to make an appearance, sliding from the head of his cock and I rub my thumb over the droplet, spreading it over his flesh to leave his cock glistening.

I haven’t forgotten about the mouths on my cunt. Who could? She still works her magic on me, diligently. She still knows exactly what buttons to press. That’s what they say about fucking a member of your own gender, isn’t it? That they know how to opperate the equipment best. He has trailed kisses up and down my thigh, interspersed with licks. His other hand makes its presence known, sliding beneath my ass and squeezing it tightly. He lingers there for a moment before adjusting position so that he is kneeling besides me. His hand moves toward my crack and, before I can respond, he is inside me. I don’t always love anal play. Maybe it’s the situation. Maybe it’s her tongue expertly breaking down my defenses but I don’t mind, not this time. In fact, I nearly cum. Not yet.

I feel her breasts brushing against my thighs as she works. Her nipples are erect, easy to feel against me. I reach for his cock, once more, stroking the shaft as it reaches toward the sky, tinted red from the blood coursing through his veins. Simultaneously, she is stroking me, bringing me closer and closer to orgasm. Very close now.

And then it hits, waves of pleasure crashing inside me, muscles spasming and hips bucking and she licks and strokes, he still fucking my ass with his hand. As I cum, I reach for his hand, sucking his fingers into my mouth so I am completely filled. I feel heat wash over my pussy, and I am wetter but not as unbelievably wet like in porn.

She quickly laps as my juices, cleaning up my orgasm. He moves in but she has made quick work of it. Instead he kisses her and there is a twinge of guilt which is quickly overcome by the sheet naughtiness of them sharing the taste of me. I fall back onto the bed, tension suddenly rushing from my body, overcome with weakness.

To be continued..

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Categories: Stories

Sue Johanson Vibe Collection

Come

April 4th, 2009

“Come.”

With one finger, I slowly motion her forward. She moves, unsure at first but then quickly makes up the time, fearing my wrath. Head low, ass high. My eyes trace the curve of naked flesh along her back. Thin fabric traces the crack of her ass, dividing it into two perfectly round cheeks silhouetted against the dark background behind her. She moves fluidly, sliding one leg in front of the other, stretching one arm out and then the other. She keeps her palms flat against the ground as I request.

In between her movements, I see the roundness of her breasts sway beneath her body. She is beautiful but it is more than that. She moves sensually. She emits sexuality. Is that a drop I see, already forming on her skin? It slips silently to the floor, unnoticed by my slave as she inches nearer. The sight of her nervousness, her fear, he desire sends a shudder down my spine. I suppress shivering but can’t help the blood from rushing between my legs. My clit tingles as it grows hard and I entertain fantasies of her in my mind.

I keep careful eye on her hair, she knows I don’t like when it’s touched the ground. She is careful but there has been a time or two when she has forgotten. Sometimes she is too anxious too approach – or too fearful – and she forgets. It’s times like those when I lash her wrists to the wall and lash her flesh with a flogger. Rarely, do I make her bleed but I have and I will, when it’s necessary. It won’t be necessary now. I can tell she is concentrating.

She reaches the ground in front of me. Cold concrete to remind her that she is the one on the floor, not I. She remains with her head down, her hair floats just above the ground and I reach down to pull it over her one shoulder. I drag a nail over her now bare shoulder and it leaves a welt but I do not break the skin. With her hands placed against the ground, I reach for a shackle built into the leg of my chair. My hair falls around her as I do, tickling her skin but she knows better than to make a sound. Were she allowed to look up, she would see my breasts pushing against my bra as I lean forward. But she is not, does not.

The shackle is around her wrist. I know she can see its origin. They’re a recent addition to my throne and if she is surprised, she makes no sound. I spot the smallest movement form her, however. I grin. She has not grown complacent yet. Good. I lean to my other side, fastening the second cuff around her wrist. Fine dark brown leather, worked with gold filigree. Neither are colours I would normally choose but something about this combination pulled at me. The leather is still stiff and I know it will prove to have an extra bite. I may have been a little slack lately. She deserves no special treatment now.

With both wrists secure, I lean back in chair, slide my hips forward. I’m sure she hears the movement which I follow by lifting one leg over her shoulder. Bending it at the knee, I rest the heel of my boot on her ass. The point sinks into her flesh and I smile. At last she emits a soft sound, barely audible, but I know the heel is biting her flesh. At this distance, I see the thong cutting into her hips. I often gift her items that are too small. The gift reminds her of me and the discomfort reminds her of her place in life, just as the silver collar around her neck does both.

With my leg lifted my pussy is exposed. She has surely been aware of this, the cunt slut that she is. I instruct her curtly.

“Eat, girl.”

Slowly, she raises her body up so that her mouth is level with my cunt. I stifle a gasp as her tongue flits between my lips from between her pouty, red lips. She has such a beautiful mouth, so perfect for her current duty. And she does it well. My heat pounds faster as her tongue travels down my lips and back up, around my clit. But she won’t stay for long. She knows what happens if she teases. That’s my job not sure.

I sink my heel further into her ass as she puts her expert skills to good use. Her mouth surrounds my clit as her tongue darts this way and back. She begins to suck on my clit and it’s all I can do to keep my composure. I love to surprise her when I come, to squirt all over her face unexpectedly. She always makes such faces, so unglorified, so unladylike. She thinks of herself as elegant, classy even, but I love putting her in positions she can’t control, to force those natural reactions that she would eradicate had she the power to change human nature. Of course there’s nothing like seeing your slut, covered in your own cum. It always gives me such satisfaction.

I bite my lip harshly as her tongue probes inside, but not for long. She knows where I like the focus and she returns to my clit, licking from the base to the lip in a slow, unbroken motion. I swear, with just one movement she has made my clit grow. Involuntarily, I’ve begun to grind my hips against her face. So much for opacity. She moans at my reaction and, instinctively, I shoot up, reaching behind her to smack her ass. Hard. And again. Her skin is bright red after only making contact twice. I have hit her harder than I intended but she knows better, now.

“Shut up, slut.”

I think I feel a slight nod as she continues, never breaking her mouth from my pussy despite the spanking. She’s pushing her tongue against my clit roughly now, just how I like it. Rather than returning my heel to her ass, I drape my leg over the arm of the chair, spreading my pussy open for all the see. She moves forward, having more access now. She is not accustomed to not being able to use her hands but you wouldn’t. know the difference.

Her tongue dances talented across my clit, around my lips. She even licks down my mons, following the thin strip of hair I let grow down to my clit once again. This time she works with a fervor, as though her life depends on my orgasm. I let her think it just may. I chuckle to myself.

And then I feel it. Building up deep within, my orgasm builds. I’m not even sure there is an ounce of blood left in any part of my body. My clit so impossibly hard as she works her magic. It’s coming fast, faster than I prepared for. Soon, my orgasm is barreling through my body like a train. Nothing can stop this force. My hips buck involuntarily and I grab the back of her head, tangling my fingers in her hair. My orgasm rolls over my body and I feel the contractions of my cunt, each one separate and strong yet all part of the same. I finally let go as I come, moaning and fucking her face as I push a stream of cum against her face. I feel it dripping down my cunt. Like a good girl, she has never stopped and my pleasure keeps coming.

As my orgasm subsides I pull my hips away. My cum is streaming down her face. Hair has plastered to her skin. She looks entirely ungraceful, now. She looks like my slut. She is my slut. I stand.

“Come,” I direct her. And she does, pulling at the shackles around her wrists. I can hear her moan as her body responds to my demand, even as I walk away.

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Categories: Stories

Image © MisterUnlucky; used with permission.