That's all I get, two questions, when my Him allows me to ask anything at all. I never know what to ask. "Are you going to hurt me?" I already know the answer to that. He's already promised to up the ante on me. We've graduated to what he considers a thrashing. "Will you fuck me?" I know the answer to that question as well. Yes, he will, yes, I will beg for him, yes, he will fuck me better than anyone else can. I suppose I could ask him if others will be watching today. I'm not sure I want to know. He knows how much freer I feel in cuffs and blindfolded, he knows my fear of the judgment of others. He knows that part of his allowing others to play with me is that they are not allowed to say anything detrimental about me or to me. Only he can call me his slut, his whore. For him, I am.
So I say nothing when he tells me that I can ask him questions.
13.3.09
11.3.09
Crave
You follow me into my closet, in order to help me dress. I know I must always look good for you, but I love it when I have your help. "Dress sexy," you tell me, as you opt for my black mini dress with the zipper down the front. I choose a pair of stiletto black heels to match. An hour later, makeup and hair done under your tutelage, we arrive at the bar. You've always liked the quiet Irish bars, quiet in the sense that we know most of the people there, quiet in the sense that the piano player has yet to arrive.
You order for me - vodka tonic, while you have a Guinness. We talk and laugh, and you order me a second drink. Your friend arrives. I've known him for a long time as well. There's pleasantries and pleasant conversation. I'm now into my third cocktail as I excuse myself and head for the lady's room. When I come back, you and our friend both greet me with a mischievous look on your faces. After a moment of talk, the conversation wanes. You've got an expectant look on your face as I greet your eyes with mine.
"Shall we leave?" you ask me. "Already?" I respond. You nod and rise to your feet, taking my hand in yours as you pull me up. "He's coming with us," you tell me.
We return to your apartment. More drinks are poured, more anecdotes exchanged, as we relax and I remove my shoes and curl into the floor, my back against the sofa. I stretch out my legs and smile up at the both of you.
"Would you be willing to enjoy?" you ask me. "Of course, I already am," I reply. "No, both of us - would you be willing to enjoy us?" I know this means that I will be servicing both of you. I will spend my evening on my knees and on my back. I'm not really interested in this, on this night, but I already knew what my answer would be. "Yes," I breathe to you. "Good," you reply. "Close your eyes."
I do, and rest my head back, preparing for what I will do. I feel fingers on my thighs, fingers on my zipper, and a mouth on mine. This is unexpected, as my role is to serve you. After a gasp, I respond to the kiss being given - it's not your mouth, it's your friend's. Then I feel your hand running up the inside of my thigh. My zipper opens, almost as if it wanted to. I feel a hand reach inside my bra to grab my breast. The sensations are overwhelming. Fingers, hands, mouths...
You raise my dress and spread my legs further. Your mouth attacks my clit, oh, I know this, oh, God, it's so good. Our friend continues to kiss me and while doing so, lightly run his fingertip over my nipple. I shudder, how could I not? This is not what I thought you wanted, and I'm unsure how to respond. The basic reactions are there, of course they are. Yet I want to please you. I look down to your face, to see if I can read what you want from me by looking in your eyes. You will not look at me, but instead push your tongue deeper into my cunt. Oh, God. Oh, I have no choice but to love this.
With your tongue in me, and your hand rubbing my clit, and our friend kissing me and rubbing my nipples, I can feel the wave of orgasm approaching. "Please, don't stop," I murmur as my head leans back onto the cushion. "Please...please," are the only words from me. I can hear you growl, hear it come from your throat, as your fingers twist my clit and my cunt begins to drip, as you groan into me. With that noise, I come, noisily and God, twisting.
"Good girl," you tell me, and tell me to stay still. Next, hands are lifting off my dress, which has been in a ball around my waist. Next, my bra is removed. I sit, naked and panting, in front of you.
Our friend switches places with you, and the first thing I feel is your mouth on mine, kissing me, kissing me, kissing me. I feel his tentative fingers on my clit, and I twist my hips to move closer to his hand. You're biting my neck, and he's finally running his mouth over all of my cunt, clit, everywhere. Now, I'm beginning to get lost in the sensation of you on me, of him in me, of pleasure.
Over, and over, and over, you and our friend switch places. Neither of you will slide your cock into me. I'm begging now, begging for that release which comes only with fucking. I want you, I want him, oh, please, I need this, please let me have you. "No," you tell me as you both take my hands to raise me off the floor. "Look at the mess you've made, girl. I'll have to get the carpet cleaned."
You tell our friend that it was a good night, and lead me off to the bedroom. "Did you enjoy yourself?" you ask me, as if I needed to tell you directly. "Yes, honey," I reply. Then you push me back onto your bed and finally, oh, thank you, finally, run your cock into my cunt. I squeeze you further in and wrap my legs around your back.
"He told me that he wanted you. He told me that he craved you. I thought you'd like this night," you tell me, as you push so deeply into me that I shudder. "You did good."
You order for me - vodka tonic, while you have a Guinness. We talk and laugh, and you order me a second drink. Your friend arrives. I've known him for a long time as well. There's pleasantries and pleasant conversation. I'm now into my third cocktail as I excuse myself and head for the lady's room. When I come back, you and our friend both greet me with a mischievous look on your faces. After a moment of talk, the conversation wanes. You've got an expectant look on your face as I greet your eyes with mine.
"Shall we leave?" you ask me. "Already?" I respond. You nod and rise to your feet, taking my hand in yours as you pull me up. "He's coming with us," you tell me.
We return to your apartment. More drinks are poured, more anecdotes exchanged, as we relax and I remove my shoes and curl into the floor, my back against the sofa. I stretch out my legs and smile up at the both of you.
"Would you be willing to enjoy?" you ask me. "Of course, I already am," I reply. "No, both of us - would you be willing to enjoy us?" I know this means that I will be servicing both of you. I will spend my evening on my knees and on my back. I'm not really interested in this, on this night, but I already knew what my answer would be. "Yes," I breathe to you. "Good," you reply. "Close your eyes."
I do, and rest my head back, preparing for what I will do. I feel fingers on my thighs, fingers on my zipper, and a mouth on mine. This is unexpected, as my role is to serve you. After a gasp, I respond to the kiss being given - it's not your mouth, it's your friend's. Then I feel your hand running up the inside of my thigh. My zipper opens, almost as if it wanted to. I feel a hand reach inside my bra to grab my breast. The sensations are overwhelming. Fingers, hands, mouths...
You raise my dress and spread my legs further. Your mouth attacks my clit, oh, I know this, oh, God, it's so good. Our friend continues to kiss me and while doing so, lightly run his fingertip over my nipple. I shudder, how could I not? This is not what I thought you wanted, and I'm unsure how to respond. The basic reactions are there, of course they are. Yet I want to please you. I look down to your face, to see if I can read what you want from me by looking in your eyes. You will not look at me, but instead push your tongue deeper into my cunt. Oh, God. Oh, I have no choice but to love this.
With your tongue in me, and your hand rubbing my clit, and our friend kissing me and rubbing my nipples, I can feel the wave of orgasm approaching. "Please, don't stop," I murmur as my head leans back onto the cushion. "Please...please," are the only words from me. I can hear you growl, hear it come from your throat, as your fingers twist my clit and my cunt begins to drip, as you groan into me. With that noise, I come, noisily and God, twisting.
"Good girl," you tell me, and tell me to stay still. Next, hands are lifting off my dress, which has been in a ball around my waist. Next, my bra is removed. I sit, naked and panting, in front of you.
Our friend switches places with you, and the first thing I feel is your mouth on mine, kissing me, kissing me, kissing me. I feel his tentative fingers on my clit, and I twist my hips to move closer to his hand. You're biting my neck, and he's finally running his mouth over all of my cunt, clit, everywhere. Now, I'm beginning to get lost in the sensation of you on me, of him in me, of pleasure.
Over, and over, and over, you and our friend switch places. Neither of you will slide your cock into me. I'm begging now, begging for that release which comes only with fucking. I want you, I want him, oh, please, I need this, please let me have you. "No," you tell me as you both take my hands to raise me off the floor. "Look at the mess you've made, girl. I'll have to get the carpet cleaned."
You tell our friend that it was a good night, and lead me off to the bedroom. "Did you enjoy yourself?" you ask me, as if I needed to tell you directly. "Yes, honey," I reply. Then you push me back onto your bed and finally, oh, thank you, finally, run your cock into my cunt. I squeeze you further in and wrap my legs around your back.
"He told me that he wanted you. He told me that he craved you. I thought you'd like this night," you tell me, as you push so deeply into me that I shudder. "You did good."
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