u/zombies-never-saydie

Part 1

Part 2

---

Our freeuse dynamic was going excellently. It may have come along by accident, but Olivia was clearly enjoying herself. It seemed to turn her on to know that I might take advantage of her at any possible moment. So sex made its way out of the bedroom and into our daily lives. This made it so that even mundane tasks–yard work, laundry, cooking–were infused with a subtle sexual tension. Was I going to grab Olivia and fuck her over the countertop after I slid a sheet pan of vegetables into the oven? Maybe. Maybe not. Was I going to make her suck my cock as soon as she got home from her yoga class? There was a strong possibility.

And, slowly, that energy seeped out of the home and into other aspects of our lives. So it was that we were attending a wedding reception, sitting through the best man’s speech when I leaned over, whispering to Olivia, “What kind of panties are you wearing?”

She was in a snug, dark green dress. Simple. Elegant. A gold necklace and matching earrings. Me–an olive linen suit. Breezy and complementary.

She blushed and glanced around, “You know what I’m wearing. You picked them out, Sir.”

I was unfazed, “Answer the question. And be thorough.”

Her face grew redder, “A black lace thong. The one with white trim along the hem. And a small bow on the front.”

“I wanna see. Show me.”

Her eyes went wide, “Here? Someone will see!” Her voice was low but frenzied. She squeezed her thighs together.

“Then let’s go outside. There’s a hallway around the corner that leads to another event space. Nothing going on there tonight.”

After the speech, I grabbed her hand and led her out. Her heels clicked as we rushed down a semi-dark hallway–lights half off, a few catering carts sitting empty along the walls. We rounded a corner and I pushed her against the wall. “Let’s see.”

She wiggled her hips, sliding up her dress to show me her black thong.

“Hmm, are you…” I pushed my hand between her legs, sliding my fingers along the thin band of fabric that was squeezed against her pussy. “Wet?”

“God! I will be if you keep doing that.” She pushed against my shoulder playfully.

“Good.” With my other hand, I pulled her top to the side just enough to access her breast. No bra. I grasped her nipple, squeezing it between thumb and forefinger. I slid into her panties, letting my index finger curve along her labia, drawing out her emerging wetness.

I spun her around to face the wall, my hand grasping her tit as my finger slid slowly inside her.

“Mmf.”

God did I love that first moan that escaped from her lips. Well, I loved every fucking noise she made–and she was noisy--but that first one always made me throb. And so I did, suit trousers pushing against her ass, bulge pressing between her plump cheeks. I slid up to my palm inside her, removing my hand from her chest for a moment to fumble my fly open. I pulled my cock out. Let it slap against her soft skin.

“Let’s get these out of the way, you’re fucking soaking them.” I rolled her thong down her thighs, leaving it just above her knees. I added my middle finger, sliding two inside her pussy, gently stretching her. Fuck did I love feeling her ridges against my digits. Other hand on her hip, thumb pressing against the top curve of her ass.

“Mm, fuck, fuck, fuck. Wait, oh god, it’s so fucking good.” She was grinding into my palm. Pathetically. Desperately. I pulled my index and middle finger out, dragging her slickness up and running rapid circles around her clit. I alternated between doing this and diving back into her pussy now and then to replenish with her soaking wetness. And god was she fucking wet. I could feel it running down my wrist. Down her soft legs. When I plunged my fingers inside her–pulling in a come hither motion towards her g-spot–and then took them out, I rubbed the excess wetness along her soft inner thighs.

“You’re fucking soaking.”

“Yeah, thanks to you.” She grinded her ass against my cock. “Fuck, fuck, don’t stop.”

“Excuse me?”

“Please don’t stop. Please.”

There was a murmur of voices around the corner, but Olivia was so far out of her mind that she didn’t notice. I was the one who was a little concerned she was being too loud, so I moved my palm to her mouth, covering it while I continued to orbit her clit. The heat radiating from between her legs was driving me absolutely mad. My cock throbbing, pressing against her bare ass.

I started moving more quickly. I could feel her breathing speed up. Knew she was biting her lips. She kept grinding against me. So fucking needy. “Right there. Fuck, right there. Just like that.”

And so I did it just like that. Teasing her clit. Circling it. Drawing up wetness when I needed. I moved my other hand back to her chest, rolling her nipple along my thumb. I knew it would get her there. Nipple play always sent her over the edge.

Of course, now she was moaning even louder, but I didn’t care. I was focused on making her cum. Circle upon circle upon circle. She was gone, not thinking, grinding, grinding, grinding until–

“Ah!”

She convulsed against my palm, hips bucking suddenly, violently, followed by a shiver through her body. I stopped, slowly drawing my fingers away from her sensitive clit. Down to her hips, holding her. I slid my cock down her ass cheeks, shoved it between her legs.

“Hold on, wait, fuck, I’m going to cum.” I started fucking her thighs, the top of my shaft rubbing against her labia. I was sticky with her wetness. I held the sides of her legs, pushing them tightly together. More friction. Squeezing my cock. God, it was fucking throbbing.

“Mhm, mm, fuck, okay, okay, where are you gonna–?”

I slid my hand downwards, grabbed her thong, which was still around her knees, and pulled it upwards. I pressed it against my swollen cockhead just as I started to cum. My hand was tight around Olivia’s throat as I convulsed against her, sticky white semen filling her panties. Of course, that thong was fucking tiny and the cum immediately started to drip down my shaft, then her thighs.

She gasped against me, bucking her ass as I let out a final rope of cum. “Fuck. That was fucking great.”

Olivia panted, holding herself against the wall, “Christ. Fuck.” She looked down, “Well, that thong is fucking ruined.”

“Too bad, I liked it.” I held her close, catching my breath, her heart beating against my forearm.

“Guess I’m going pantyless for the rest of the evening.” I let her go so she could smooth out her dress. She gingerly removed the thong, which was absolutely drenched with both of our fluids. She looked around, “Ah, fuck. I’m a mess.”

It was then that we heard the tell-tale bop of the motherfucking Electric Slide.

I exchanged looks with Olivia, “Glad we’re missing that. Let’s get cleaned up.”

One finger.

Isn’t that how it starts?

I tell you, without a hint of irony, “Just the tip, babe, what’s the problem?”

“But there are people around…” You squirm, whine. Wanting it but putting up a play fight.

“Nobody’ll know. Spread your legs a little, let me see those thighs.”

There’s a reason I like you in skirts. In dresses. In anything that can be hiked up to your waist. That one finger starting at your bare knee. Though, sometimes you wear thigh-highs or tights or fishnets. So I tease you–just like you tease me. Why’d you wear that today, huh? Trying to get me hard? Want me to show you how much I need to fucking tear it off you?

Lemme stretch the fabric. Pretend like I’m going to rip it. Sometimes I do. And then you’ll pout, but only for a minute, your brain a blank slate of need as soon as I drag my digit along your thong. Well, when you wear one, that is. Sometimes you’re bad. Or maybe just over-eager. I push my hand along your thigh to find nothing impeding my progress towards your slit.

“No thong today?”

You bite your lip and try to look innocent. Bat your pretty eyes at me and act like you forgot.

“You didn’t fucking forget. You wanted to feel the fucking ocean breeze against your pussy. You were hoping that I’d find you like this.”

Oh, you’ll protest and act like that couldn’t possibly be true. But you’ll shut up as soon as my index finger is spreading your folds, knocking at your entrance, pushing its way in–isn’t that wetness enough of an invitation?

Look at me while I do it. Keep those big round eyes on mine. I wanna watch them go wide as I push slowly inside you. Watch you close ‘em, squirm, and hold ‘em. Once I’m two knuckles in I’ll double-back, following a similar path to exit with a rude little flick. Back in. A few more times. Until I stop to let you catch your breath–you’re getting so fucking noisy, aren’t you? I’ll pull free of your reflexive grip and slowly raise my hand to your mouth.

“Suck it. Tastes like a bad fucking girl.”

And god do you ever suck it. Like a famished, desperate little thing. Sweet and tangy and salty. When you get into it, I mean, you really get into it. Sucking my finger like it’s my cock. Spit across my cuticle. Drool over my knuckle. The tactile bump of your tastebuds over each distinct line.

Two fingers.

That’s all it takes to make you absolutely simmer with need. Two fingers in your pussy. Index. Middle. Spreading just enough to fill you up. Dragging back and forth intermittently. Slowly. Steadily. Deliberately.

This is when you have to spread your legs wider. Put your feet up on your seat and let me get deeper. Deeper. Deeper still. You know my fingers are long and I like to push ‘em in right up to my palm. And when I get going you start to get so noisy you have to bite on your sweater or I have to squeeze your neck just enough to shut you up. Do you want everyone to hear you sounding so desperately insatiable? Surely not. Actually, let’s be honest, I know that thought turns you on too.

Your thighs glisten. Your moans quicken. My fingers dart in and out, leaving prints all along the walls of your cunt. That’s what makes it mine, right? Let me leave my marks. Let me gesture come hither along the anterior until I hit the spot. Then flick outwards again, making a V as I squeeze on either side of your tumescent clit. Push your folds together around that needy nub, making it jump. Making you fidget.

Three fingers?

Think you can take that?

Sometimes you can. Other times you just beg for me to replace my hand with my dick. It’s hard. Of course it’s hard for you. And if we were somewhere quieter I’d be bending you over, squeezing your ass with these slick hands and fucking you bareback. But we’re not, so quit begging and wait. You’ll cum one way or another, won’t you? I always make sure of that. Whether with my tongue, or a toy, or–quite simply–with a single, solitary finger.

And yeah, maybe I should punish you differently. With a belt or a paddle or some other tool. But, you know me, I really like to work with my hands. I like to be direct. Like to feel you myself. Like to make you learn the location of every little callous. Because, ultimately, what I want is for you to buck and moan and writhe and twist.

So do it for me now. Don’t be shy. You can bite my ear as you cum against my wrist.

---

This is an invitation to chat. Ya dig?

Part 1

---

“Hmm…I should probably fuck you. Yeah, I definitely need to fuck you right now.”

Olivia didn’t hear me talking to myself because she had her AirPods in. She was on a Zoom call, but her camera was off and she was muted. It was one of the many pointless calls she was forced to attend so that the middle-managers could pretend like they did actual, productive work instead of wasting everyone’s time with performative meetings.

So I knew it wouldn’t cause her too much strife when I grabbed the back of her computer chair, spun her around to face me–and my bulging erection, pressing hard against my boxer briefs–and told her to turn around.

Her eyes went from glazed over to wide as she looked from my cock to my face in slight confusion. The whole freeuse thing was still a bit new and I was still working out the parameters, seeing where–if anywhere–she wanted to establish limits. So far, the answer was a resounding nowhere.

“Where do you want–?”

I cut her off, answering her question by grabbing her hips, lifting her out of the chair and positioning her against the desk. She was leaning over it–yoga shorts-clad ass pressing against my pulsing hard on. I thumbed the hem of my boxers, letting my erection bounce against Olivia’s perfect fucking ass.

God.

That ass.

Sometimes I just want to tear whatever fucking item of clothing she’s wearing off and smack her tanned ass cheeks so fucking hard that she yelps. Actually, I have done that before. And fuck does it make her turn her thighs into a fucking floodplain. So, yeah. I shoved her yoga pants down, rolling the stretchy neon pink fabric to just below the bottom curve of her cheeks. Unsurprisingly, she wasn’t wearing any panties.

Tsk tsk tsk.

Let’s call that a green light to give it to her fucking hard.

I palmed one plump orb of fucking heaven, warming it up. She looked over her should, watching my hand, squeezing her thighs together in anticipation, and then looked at her computer screen, double-checking that she was on mute.

Hand back and–

THWACK

“Mmf!” she tried to hold her whiny moan in.

My cock was between her legs now, and it pulsed upwards when I spanked her, the swollen tip gently grazing her pussy. I rubbed the sore spot, moving my hips slightly forward, so that my crown was pushing right against her entrance. I could feel her lips enveloping just that first little slope of my cockhead. She looked back at me–AirPods still in–and wordlessly moved her hips, her vulva pushing my cock up slightly, inviting me inside.

Not yet.

SMACK

Her ass fucking rippling from the force.

“You have no idea how hard I’m going to fuck you.” I don’t think she could hear me. She was gripping the side of the desk, looking over her shoulder at me as she bounced her hips like a fucking slut. I could feel her warm wetness starting to coat the crest of my cock. Both hands on her waist, squeezing as I pushed against her, shoving myself inside, but so…fucking…slowly.

I was teasing her, sliding in a fucking millimeter at a time. She looked at me, her icy blue eyes flickering with what appeared to be annoyance. And then she said, “God, will you please just fucking–FUCK--me right now.”

THA-WACK

And so I did. Another hard spank and then my hand shooting up to her messy ponytail, pushing her into the desk as I finally filled her pussy with my bulging slab of pure, unadulterated testosterone. Her empty coffee mug–World’s Cutest Face–shook against the IKEA-brand particle board. Her keyboard jiggled, the keys clacking as I squished my testicles against her soaking labia.

I ran a hand around her waist, slid it over her belly button, down to her mound. Dipped my fingers along her spread lips, gathering wetness before retreating to her clit. I rubbed small, but aggressive circles while I pounded her. Railed her. Fucking owned her. Her pussy. Her Ass. Her fucking clit were mine. And I didn’t want her to just know it. I wanted her to feel it.

And she was fucking feeling it. She was bucking her hips against me every time I drew backwards, keeping my cock firmly entrenched in her tight fucking pussy. She jiggled her ass, bounced it against me, demanding that I keep 100% of my attention of absolutely drubbing her.

My thighs flexed. I leaned forward, towering over her small frame as I did my damnedest to ensure that she’d feel my absence as soon as I slipped out of her pussy.

SMACK

I grabbed her ass cheek and spread it, exposing her tight little asshole. I spit. Started to rub my thumb against that opening while my other hand kept working her clit. I slipped slowly inside, just enough to make her feel even more full.

“How’s that, huh? You fucking slut. Gonna cum for me?”

“Mm, mm,” I don’t think she could hear me. Someone droning on about fucking Excel in her ears. “I’m–I’m–I’m gonna cum on your–fuck–cock.”

Her entire body shivered. She squeezed her legs together tightly, which only served to push me over the edge. I shoved forward, sack against her soaking cunt, and exploded. Throbbing. Rope after fucking rope of cum. Painting that fucking pussy. Her inner walls striated with my dripping semen.

We both breathed heavily. My thrusting started to slow. I felt cum start to trickle backwards, running towards her thighs. I moved my hands, grabbing her hips, rubbing her red ass, and then finally back away.

She stayed leaning over the desk, catching her breath. She reached up, pulling one earbud out. “I, whew, fuck, I think, I think that was one of the actually important meetings.”

I chuckled, “Nothing’s more important than getting fucked, babe..." I paused, thinking, "Except for...maybe spreadsheets.”

Part 1

Part 2

---

Our freeuse dynamic was going excellently. It may have come along by accident, but Olivia was clearly enjoying herself. It seemed to turn her on to know that I might take advantage of her at any possible moment. So sex made its way out of the bedroom and into our daily lives. This made it so that even mundane tasks–yard work, laundry, cooking–were infused with a subtle sexual tension. Was I going to grab Olivia and fuck her over the countertop after I slid a sheet pan of vegetables into the oven? Maybe. Maybe not. Was I going to make her suck my cock as soon as she got home from her yoga class? There was a strong possibility.

And, slowly, that energy seeped out of the home and into other aspects of our lives. So it was that we were attending a wedding reception, sitting through the best man’s speech when I leaned over, whispering to Olivia, “What kind of panties are you wearing?”

She was in a snug, dark green dress. Simple. Elegant. A gold necklace and matching earrings. Me–an olive linen suit. Breezy and complementary.

She blushed and glanced around, “You know what I’m wearing. You picked them out, Sir.”

I was unfazed, “Answer the question. And be thorough.”

Her face grew redder, “A black lace thong. The one with white trim along the hem. And a small bow on the front.”

“I wanna see. Show me.”

Her eyes went wide, “Here? Someone will see!” Her voice was low but frenzied. She squeezed her thighs together.

“Then let’s go outside. There’s a hallway around the corner that leads to another event space. Nothing going on there tonight.”

After the speech, I grabbed her hand and led her out. Her heels clicked as we rushed down a semi-dark hallway–lights half off, a few catering carts sitting empty along the walls. We rounded a corner and I pushed her against the wall. “Let’s see.”

She wiggled her hips, sliding up her dress to show me her black thong.

“Hmm, are you…” I pushed my hand between her legs, sliding my fingers along the thin band of fabric that was squeezed against her pussy. “Wet?”

“God! I will be if you keep doing that.” She pushed against my shoulder playfully.

“Good.” With my other hand, I pulled her top to the side just enough to access her breast. No bra. I grasped her nipple, squeezing it between thumb and forefinger. I slid into her panties, letting my index finger curve along her labia, drawing out her emerging wetness.

I spun her around to face the wall, my hand grasping her tit as my finger slid slowly inside her.

“Mmf.”

God did I love that first moan that escaped from her lips. Well, I loved every fucking noise she made–and she was noisy--but that first one always made me throb. And so I did, suit trousers pushing against her ass, bulge pressing between her plump cheeks. I slid up to my palm inside her, removing my hand from her chest for a moment to fumble my fly open. I pulled my cock out. Let it slap against her soft skin.

“Let’s get these out of the way, you’re fucking soaking them.” I rolled her thong down her thighs, leaving it just above her knees. I added my middle finger, sliding two inside her pussy, gently stretching her. Fuck did I love feeling her ridges against my digits. Other hand on her hip, thumb pressing against the top curve of her ass.

“Mm, fuck, fuck, fuck. Wait, oh god, it’s so fucking good.” She was grinding into my palm. Pathetically. Desperately. I pulled my index and middle finger out, dragging her slickness up and running rapid circles around her clit. I alternated between doing this and diving back into her pussy now and then to replenish with her soaking wetness. And god was she fucking wet. I could feel it running down my wrist. Down her soft legs. When I plunged my fingers inside her–pulling in a come hither motion towards her g-spot–and then took them out, I rubbed the excess wetness along her soft inner thighs.

“You’re fucking soaking.”

“Yeah, thanks to you.” She grinded her ass against my cock. “Fuck, fuck, don’t stop.”

“Excuse me?”

“Please don’t stop. Please.”

There was a murmur of voices around the corner, but Olivia was so far out of her mind that she didn’t notice. I was the one who was a little concerned she was being too loud, so I moved my palm to her mouth, covering it while I continued to orbit her clit. The heat radiating from between her legs was driving me absolutely mad. My cock throbbing, pressing against her bare ass.

I started moving more quickly. I could feel her breathing speed up. Knew she was biting her lips. She kept grinding against me. So fucking needy. “Right there. Fuck, right there. Just like that.”

And so I did it just like that. Teasing her clit. Circling it. Drawing up wetness when I needed. I moved my other hand back to her chest, rolling her nipple along my thumb. I knew it would get her there. Nipple play always sent her over the edge.

Of course, now she was moaning even louder, but I didn’t care. I was focused on making her cum. Circle upon circle upon circle. She was gone, not thinking, grinding, grinding, grinding until–

“Ah!”

She convulsed against my palm, hips bucking suddenly, violently, followed by a shiver through her body. I stopped, slowly drawing my fingers away from her sensitive clit. Down to her hips, holding her. I slid my cock down her ass cheeks, shoved it between her legs.

“Hold on, wait, fuck, I’m going to cum.” I started fucking her thighs, the top of my shaft rubbing against her labia. I was sticky with her wetness. I held the sides of her legs, pushing them tightly together. More friction. Squeezing my cock. God, it was fucking throbbing.

“Mhm, mm, fuck, okay, okay, where are you gonna–?”

I slid my hand downwards, grabbed her thong, which was still around her knees, and pulled it upwards. I pressed it against my swollen cockhead just as I started to cum. My hand was tight around Olivia’s throat as I convulsed against her, sticky white semen filling her panties. Of course, that thong was fucking tiny and the cum immediately started to drip down my shaft, then her thighs.

She gasped against me, bucking her ass as I let out a final rope of cum. “Fuck. That was fucking great.”

Olivia panted, holding herself against the wall, “Christ. Fuck.” She looked down, “Well, that thong is fucking ruined.”

“Too bad, I liked it.” I held her close, catching my breath, her heart beating against my forearm.

“Guess I’m going pantyless for the rest of the evening.” I let her go so she could smooth out her dress. She gingerly removed the thong, which was absolutely drenched with both of our fluids. She looked around, “Ah, fuck. I’m a mess.”

It was then that we heard the tell-tale bop of the motherfucking Electric Slide.

I exchanged looks with Olivia, “Glad we’re missing that. Let’s get cleaned up.”

It started innocently enough: I was feeling horny one Sunday morning. Normally, I’d just work that out myself, but Olivia was right there being such a fucking tease. She was laying on her stomach on the couch, wearing her “cozy socks” (bright pink and fluffy) and her ridiculous yoga shorts, which were so tight that her ass was neatly divided into two perfect, luscious spheres.

She was fucking around on TikTok or whatever. Way less important than my cock. And when I walked by behind the couch, lazily rubbing my budding erection through my sweats, I thought, “I should just fuck her.” Why not, right? Olivia loved to be involved if I was feeling horny and had told me before that I should just use her sometime. It was kind of an off-handed remark, but it was the sort that stuck with me. Use her, eh? Now, that sounded fun.

I sat on the backs of her thighs and began grinding my erection against her ass. “Hmm?” She peeked over her shoulder distractedly, “Horny?”

“Yeah,” I nodded, my eyes focused on her plump ass. “I think I’ll fuck you.” I pulled down her shorts and then pushed her plain black thong to the side.

“Oh!” She seemed pleasantly surprised. She wiggled her hips invitingly, the bottoms of her cheeks brushing against my cockhead. “Do you wanna–MMPH!”

“Shush.” I grabbed a handful of her copper hair and pushed her into the seat cushion. Quickly enough, I was inside her, my cock pushing in and out of her sopping pussy. It was a quick one. I held her in that position–one hand on her head, the other gripping her ass–while I fucked her. I could hear her muffled, needy whines. When I was close I pulled back on her hair, lifting her head up, and gave her left ass cheek a hard smack.

“Fuck!” she yelped just as I came inside her. I shoved her forward again, both palms digging into her ass as I filled her slit with my cum. When my balls were empty I pulled out, gave her ass another smack for good measure and went to wash off.

She called after me, “That was, um, really fucking hot. You should do that again sometime.”

---

The next time I was even more assertive. Olivia was reading a book in bed. She had her glasses on, was all cozied up with her hair in a big, messy bun, and was wearing her favorite oversized t-shirt. Once again, I was feeling horny and had spent a bit of time watching some facefucking videos prior to retiring to our bedroom. So when I walked in and saw Olivia laying there, consumed by her novel, all I could think of was how much I wanted to use her mouth.

I was only wearing boxer briefs at the time, so when I climbed on top of her, but my knees next to her shoulders, and pushed her book aside, she got a face full of hard on.

“Babe, hold on, I’m trying to finish–”

“I need your mouth,” I thumbed my waist band down and let my erection tumble against her forehead. I dragged it down, smearing a sticky length of precum along Olivia’s nose. Then I pushed against her pink lips, which she eagerly parted for me. Setting aside her book, she grabbed the backs of my thighs, inviting me into her waiting throat.

Something about using her like that really turned me on, which led to more aggression than usual. I grabbed her messy bun, using it like a handle while I fucked her against the headboard. She looked over her glasses–which were sliding down her nose at this point–and made eye contact with me. There was something needy in her watery blue eyes and that look encouraged me to choke her with my shaft.

“GLUCK, pshwaff, GLUCK, GLUCK, phleck,” spit ran down her chin, breaking in thick, sticky strands against her oversized shirt. It was now thoroughly drenched in saliva.

I grasped the sides of her head with both hands, “Fuck, that’s it, fuck, you’re gonna make me cum, baby.”

I pulled out of her mouth just as a massive spurt of semen snapped across her glasses, nearly catching her in the eye. A second rope of cum nearly went up her nostril, but instead landed along the bridge of her nose. A third went into her hair (which I knew she’d be annoyed about) and a fourth and fifth hit her cheek.

I fell off her, expecting her to be at least somewhat irritated that I decided to fuck her face while she was reading. To my surprise, she sat there, my cum dripping down to her chin, for a few moments. Then, her hand slipped between her thighs and she began to finger herself.

“You okay?” I cocked an eyebrow at her.

“That made me, mmmm, fuck, that made me really wet,” she whined in response.

I grabbed her vibrator from the bedside table and pushed it against her clit, “Oh yeah?”

“Ah, mhm, mhm,” she was grinding against the vibrator. “You just…took what you wanted. It was really hot.”

“Yeah? So, I should just fuck you whenever I feel like now?”

“Well…mmh, ah, fuck, that’s it. Maybe not whenever, but I think you should use me when you need to. I always want to get you off.”

“So you won’t mind if I treat you like a toy?”

“Definitely treat me like a toy. Like a little fuck toy. I want you to use me when you need release.”

“Shake on it,” I demanded as she inched near orgasm.

“Ah, mhm, ah, ah, I’m so…close,” she bit her bottom lip as she tried to hold my extended hand. She came just as we shook on it, her body shuddering in small tidal waves of pleasure. “Whew, okay, okay. You can fuck me whenever you need to, Sir.”

“Good girl.” I ran my index finger along her face, collecting my semen and then directing it into her mouth. “I’m going to enjoy using you.”

One finger.

Isn’t that how it starts?

I tell you, without a hint of irony, “Just the tip, babe, what’s the problem?”

“But there are people around…” You squirm, whine. Wanting it but putting up a play fight.

“Nobody’ll know. Spread your legs a little, let me see those thighs.”

There’s a reason I like you in skirts. In dresses. In anything that can be hiked up to your waist. That one finger starting at your bare knee. Though, sometimes you wear thigh-highs or tights or fishnets. So I tease you–just like you tease me. Why’d you wear that today, huh? Trying to get me hard? Want me to show you how much I need to fucking tear it off you?

Lemme stretch the fabric. Pretend like I’m going to rip it. Sometimes I do. And then you’ll pout, but only for a minute, your brain a blank slate of need as soon as I drag my digit along your thong. Well, when you wear one, that is. Sometimes you’re bad. Or maybe just over-eager. I push my hand along your thigh to find nothing impeding my progress towards your slit.

“No thong today?”

You bite your lip and try to look innocent. Bat your pretty eyes at me and act like you forgot.

“You didn’t fucking forget. You wanted to feel the fucking ocean breeze against your pussy. You were hoping that I’d find you like this.”

Oh, you’ll protest and act like that couldn’t possibly be true. But you’ll shut up as soon as my index finger is spreading your folds, knocking at your entrance, pushing its way in–isn’t that wetness enough of an invitation?

Look at me while I do it. Keep those big round eyes on mine. I wanna watch them go wide as I push slowly inside you. Watch you close ‘em, squirm, and hold ‘em. Once I’m two knuckles in I’ll double-back, following a similar path to exit with a rude little flick. Back in. A few more times. Until I stop to let you catch your breath–you’re getting so fucking noisy, aren’t you? I’ll pull free of your reflexive grip and slowly raise my hand to your mouth.

“Suck it. Tastes like a bad fucking girl.”

And god do you ever suck it. Like a famished, desperate little thing. Sweet and tangy and salty. When you get into it, I mean, you really get into it. Sucking my finger like it’s my cock. Spit across my cuticle. Drool over my knuckle. The tactile bump of your tastebuds over each distinct line.

Two fingers.

That’s all it takes to make you absolutely simmer with need. Two fingers in your pussy. Index. Middle. Spreading just enough to fill you up. Dragging back and forth intermittently. Slowly. Steadily. Deliberately.

This is when you have to spread your legs wider. Put your feet up on your seat and let me get deeper. Deeper. Deeper still. You know my fingers are long and I like to push ‘em in right up to my palm. And when I get going you start to get so noisy you have to bite on your sweater or I have to squeeze your neck just enough to shut you up. Do you want everyone to hear you sounding so desperately insatiable? Surely not. Actually, let’s be honest, I know that thought turns you on too.

Your thighs glisten. Your moans quicken. My fingers dart in and out, leaving prints all along the walls of your cunt. That’s what makes it mine, right? Let me leave my marks. Let me gesture come hither along the anterior until I hit the spot. Then flick outwards again, making a V as I squeeze on either side of your tumescent clit. Push your folds together around that needy nub, making it jump. Making you fidget.

Three fingers?

Think you can take that?

Sometimes you can. Other times you just beg for me to replace my hand with my dick. It’s hard. Of course it’s hard for you. And if we were somewhere quieter I’d be bending you over, squeezing your ass with these slick hands and fucking you bareback. But we’re not, so quit begging and wait. You’ll cum one way or another, won’t you? I always make sure of that. Whether with my tongue, or a toy, or–quite simply–with a single, solitary finger.

And yeah, maybe I should punish you differently. With a belt or a paddle or some other tool. But, you know me, I really like to work with my hands. I like to be direct. Like to feel you myself. Like to make you learn the location of every little callous. Because, ultimately, what I want is for you to buck and moan and writhe and twist.

So do it for me now. Don’t be shy. You can bite my ear as you cum against my wrist.

---

This is an invitation to chat. You in?

Part 1

---

“Hmm…I should probably fuck you. Yeah, I definitely need to fuck you right now.”

Olivia didn’t hear me talking to myself because she had her AirPods in. She was on a Zoom call, but her camera was off and she was muted. It was one of the many pointless calls she was forced to attend so that the middle-managers could pretend like they did actual, productive work instead of wasting everyone’s time with performative meetings.

So I knew it wouldn’t cause her too much strife when I grabbed the back of her computer chair, spun her around to face me–and my bulging erection, pressing hard against my boxer briefs–and told her to turn around.

Her eyes went from glazed over to wide as she looked from my cock to my face in slight confusion. The whole freeuse thing was still a bit new and I was still working out the parameters, seeing where–if anywhere–she wanted to establish limits. So far, the answer was a resounding nowhere.

“Where do you want–?”

I cut her off, answering her question by grabbing her hips, lifting her out of the chair and positioning her against the desk. She was leaning over it–yoga shorts-clad ass pressing against my pulsing hard on. I thumbed the hem of my boxers, letting my erection bounce against Olivia’s perfect fucking ass.

God.

That ass.

Sometimes I just want to tear whatever fucking item of clothing she’s wearing off and smack her tanned ass cheeks so fucking hard that she yelps. Actually, I have done that before. And fuck does it make her turn her thighs into a fucking floodplain. So, yeah. I shoved her yoga pants down, rolling the stretchy neon pink fabric to just below the bottom curve of her cheeks. Unsurprisingly, she wasn’t wearing any panties.

Tsk tsk tsk.

Let’s call that a green light to give it to her fucking hard.

I palmed one plump orb of fucking heaven, warming it up. She looked over her should, watching my hand, squeezing her thighs together in anticipation, and then looked at her computer screen, double-checking that she was on mute.

Hand back and–

THWACK

“Mmf!” she tried to hold her whiny moan in.

My cock was between her legs now, and it pulsed upwards when I spanked her, the swollen tip gently grazing her pussy. I rubbed the sore spot, moving my hips slightly forward, so that my crown was pushing right against her entrance. I could feel her lips enveloping just that first little slope of my cockhead. She looked back at me–AirPods still in–and wordlessly moved her hips, her vulva pushing my cock up slightly, inviting me inside.

Not yet.

SMACK

Her ass fucking rippling from the force.

“You have no idea how hard I’m going to fuck you.” I don’t think she could hear me. She was gripping the side of the desk, looking over her shoulder at me as she bounced her hips like a fucking slut. I could feel her warm wetness starting to coat the crest of my cock. Both hands on her waist, squeezing as I pushed against her, shoving myself inside, but so…fucking…slowly.

I was teasing her, sliding in a fucking millimeter at a time. She looked at me, her icy blue eyes flickering with what appeared to be annoyance. And then she said, “God, will you please just fucking–FUCK--me right now.”

THA-WACK

And so I did. Another hard spank and then my hand shooting up to her messy ponytail, pushing her into the desk as I finally filled her pussy with my bulging slab of pure, unadulterated testosterone. Her empty coffee mug–World’s Cutest Face–shook against the IKEA-brand particle board. Her keyboard jiggled, the keys clacking as I squished my testicles against her soaking labia.

I ran a hand around her waist, slid it over her belly button, down to her mound. Dipped my fingers along her spread lips, gathering wetness before retreating to her clit. I rubbed small, but aggressive circles while I pounded her. Railed her. Fucking owned her. Her pussy. Her Ass. Her fucking clit were mine. And I didn’t want her to just know it. I wanted her to feel it.

And she was fucking feeling it. She was bucking her hips against me every time I drew backwards, keeping my cock firmly entrenched in her tight fucking pussy. She jiggled her ass, bounced it against me, demanding that I keep 100% of my attention of absolutely drubbing her.

My thighs flexed. I leaned forward, towering over her small frame as I did my damnedest to ensure that she’d feel my absence as soon as I slipped out of her pussy.

SMACK

I grabbed her ass cheek and spread it, exposing her tight little asshole. I spit. Started to rub my thumb against that opening while my other hand kept working her clit. I slipped slowly inside, just enough to make her feel even more full.

“How’s that, huh? You fucking slut. Gonna cum for me?”

“Mm, mm,” I don’t think she could hear me. Someone droning on about fucking Excel in her ears. “I’m–I’m–I’m gonna cum on your–fuck–cock.”

Her entire body shivered. She squeezed her legs together tightly, which only served to push me over the edge. I shoved forward, sack against her soaking cunt, and exploded. Throbbing. Rope after fucking rope of cum. Painting that fucking pussy. Her inner walls striated with my dripping semen.

We both breathed heavily. My thrusting started to slow. I felt cum start to trickle backwards, running towards her thighs. I moved my hands, grabbing her hips, rubbing her red ass, and then finally back away.

She stayed leaning over the desk, catching her breath. She reached up, pulling one earbud out. “I, whew, fuck, I think, I think that was one of the actually important meetings.”

I chuckled, “Nothing’s more important than getting fucked, babe..." I paused, thinking, "Except for...maybe spreadsheets.”

Part 1

---

“Hmm…I should probably fuck you. Yeah, I definitely need to fuck you right now.”

Olivia didn’t hear me talking to myself because she had her AirPods in. She was on a Zoom call, but her camera was off and she was muted. It was one of the many pointless calls she was forced to attend so that the middle-managers could pretend like they did actual, productive work instead of wasting everyone’s time with performative meetings.

So I knew it wouldn’t cause her too much strife when I grabbed the back of her computer chair, spun her around to face me–and my bulging erection, pressing hard against my boxer briefs–and told her to turn around.

Her eyes went from glazed over to wide as she looked from my cock to my face in slight confusion. The whole freeuse thing was still a bit new and I was still working out the parameters, seeing where–if anywhere–she wanted to establish limits. So far, the answer was a resounding nowhere.

“Where do you want–?”

I cut her off, answering her question by grabbing her hips, lifting her out of the chair and positioning her against the desk. She was leaning over it–yoga shorts-clad ass pressing against my pulsing hard on. I thumbed the hem of my boxers, letting my erection bounce against Olivia’s perfect fucking ass.

God.

That ass.

Sometimes I just want to tear whatever fucking item of clothing she’s wearing off and smack her tanned ass cheeks so fucking hard that she yelps. Actually, I have done that before. And fuck does it make her turn her thighs into a fucking floodplain. So, yeah. I shoved her yoga pants down, rolling the stretchy neon pink fabric to just below the bottom curve of her cheeks. Unsurprisingly, she wasn’t wearing any panties.

Tsk tsk tsk.

Let’s call that a green light to give it to her fucking hard.

I palmed one plump orb of fucking heaven, warming it up. She looked over her should, watching my hand, squeezing her thighs together in anticipation, and then looked at her computer screen, double-checking that she was on mute.

Hand back and–

THWACK

“Mmf!” she tried to hold her whiny moan in.

My cock was between her legs now, and it pulsed upwards when I spanked her, the swollen tip gently grazing her pussy. I rubbed the sore spot, moving my hips slightly forward, so that my crown was pushing right against her entrance. I could feel her lips enveloping just that first little slope of my cockhead. She looked back at me–AirPods still in–and wordlessly moved her hips, her vulva pushing my cock up slightly, inviting me inside.

Not yet.

SMACK

Her ass fucking rippling from the force.

“You have no idea how hard I’m going to fuck you.” I don’t think she could hear me. She was gripping the side of the desk, looking over her shoulder at me as she bounced her hips like a fucking slut. I could feel her warm wetness starting to coat the crest of my cock. Both hands on her waist, squeezing as I pushed against her, shoving myself inside, but so…fucking…slowly.

I was teasing her, sliding in a fucking millimeter at a time. She looked at me, her icy blue eyes flickering with what appeared to be annoyance. And then she said, “God, will you please just fucking–FUCK--me right now.”

THA-WACK

And so I did. Another hard spank and then my hand shooting up to her messy ponytail, pushing her into the desk as I finally filled her pussy with my bulging slab of pure, unadulterated testosterone. Her empty coffee mug–World’s Cutest Face–shook against the IKEA-brand particle board. Her keyboard jiggled, the keys clacking as I squished my testicles against her soaking labia.

I ran a hand around her waist, slid it over her belly button, down to her mound. Dipped my fingers along her spread lips, gathering wetness before retreating to her clit. I rubbed small, but aggressive circles while I pounded her. Railed her. Fucking owned her. Her pussy. Her Ass. Her fucking clit were mine. And I didn’t want her to just know it. I wanted her to feel it.

And she was fucking feeling it. She was bucking her hips against me every time I drew backwards, keeping my cock firmly entrenched in her tight fucking pussy. She jiggled her ass, bounced it against me, demanding that I keep 100% of my attention of absolutely drubbing her.

My thighs flexed. I leaned forward, towering over her small frame as I did my damnedest to ensure that she’d feel my absence as soon as I slipped out of her pussy.

SMACK

I grabbed her ass cheek and spread it, exposing her tight little asshole. I spit. Started to rub my thumb against that opening while my other hand kept working her clit. I slipped slowly inside, just enough to make her feel even more full.

“How’s that, huh? You fucking slut. Gonna cum for me?”

“Mm, mm,” I don’t think she could hear me. Someone droning on about fucking Excel in her ears. “I’m–I’m–I’m gonna cum on your–fuck–cock.”

Her entire body shivered. She squeezed her legs together tightly, which only served to push me over the edge. I shoved forward, sack against her soaking cunt, and exploded. Throbbing. Rope after fucking rope of cum. Painting that fucking pussy. Her inner walls striated with my dripping semen.

We both breathed heavily. My thrusting started to slow. I felt cum start to trickle backwards, running towards her thighs. I moved my hands, grabbing her hips, rubbing her red ass, and then finally back away.

She stayed leaning over the desk, catching her breath. She reached up, pulling one earbud out. “I, whew, fuck, I think, I think that was one of the actually important meetings.”

I chuckled, “Nothing’s more important than getting fucked, babe..." I paused, thinking, "Except for...maybe spreadsheets.”

It starts with that first kiss of summer.

When the sun is bright—near blinding—and the days run long. And the asters and coneflowers sway in the gentle breeze, as if inviting you to come on over, to lean in.

You will, of course, always and often, hair tucked behind your hair as you smell the fragile stamen, petals brushing against your cheek. And how lucky for me, that your dress matches the space, the season, the spirit. Floral And flowy. Easy to wear and remove. Sometimes hitting above your ankles. Often hitting above your knee. But always ending up above your waist.

Isn’t that why it slides so easily? Up and over your sun-kissed skin. It’s a pleasant contrast—my calloused hands roaming along your smooth calves and soft inner thighs. I could spend some time here. Press the hem of your dress between your legs. I like the way the breezy linen and viscose falls over my hands, hiding them as soon as they’re sinking under your dress.

Usually I slow down, taking the time to grasp your waist or draw circles around the birthmark on your outer thigh. It’s summer, where do we have to be? We could lay here all day. Kiss and undress and get tangled up in sheets. I like it in the daytime, when the light shines through the slatted blinds and leaves thin rays along your bare cheeks.

But no matter how long it takes, you know where I’ll end up and just never seem to wear anything else when you’ve got on a dress, huh? Funny how that works. I guess we both prefer the efficiency. The lack of impediment. When I squeeze your adductors you know it’s getting serious. My lips on your neck as I ambulate to my destination. I’m close now. So close. But isn’t the journey just as fun? That sense of anticipation before I reach the coast. The outer bank. The inner bank. And soon enough, the brook.

Slipping in. Just a warm summer dip. A little further, testing the waters. We could go skinny-dipping—you and I. Jumping into the hidden basin off that makeshift rope swing. And you would press your bare body against me just like you’re doing now. With a moan, a purr, a dainty little kiss.

I’m not so sure this will cool us down, but it’ll offer another form of release. So let me lift this variegated sundress and dig in a little bit. You won’t mind if I make myself comfortable, will you? You’re already doing the same: that peach—ripe and pink in hue—nestled up against me, met by a throb in return, a warmth of my own, something to make you full. Call it your nectary and my proboscis—tongue, fingers, or something more occlusive.

Settle in and settle onto it Let me take the lead. We’ll both end up breaking a sweat. That salty sweet of summertime heat. But that’s only appropriate. And if you’ll just wait a little while, you’ll shiver and shake like it’s winter again. Then you’ll feel a radiating glow when it’s all said and done, the sun setting in the northwest.

You know,

flowers smell the best—the strongest—when they mean to attract pollinators. I think that must be true of you too. Because today, tomorrow, and the next, your salty summer breeze of a scent is such a damned determined instigator. But just like a rapacious honeyeater, I’m always ready to come on by.

Part 1

---

“Hmm…I should probably fuck you. Yeah, I definitely need to fuck you right now.”

Olivia didn’t hear me talking to myself because she had her AirPods in. She was on a Zoom call, but her camera was off and she was muted. It was one of the many pointless calls she was forced to attend so that the middle-managers could pretend like they did actual, productive work instead of wasting everyone’s time with performative meetings.

So I knew it wouldn’t cause her too much strife when I grabbed the back of her computer chair, spun her around to face me–and my bulging erection, pressing hard against my boxer briefs–and told her to turn around.

Her eyes went from glazed over to wide as she looked from my cock to my face in slight confusion. The whole freeuse thing was still a bit new and I was still working out the parameters, seeing where–if anywhere–she wanted to establish limits. So far, the answer was a resounding nowhere.

“Where do you want–?”

I cut her off, answering her question by grabbing her hips, lifting her out of the chair and positioning her against the desk. She was leaning over it–yoga shorts-clad ass pressing against my pulsing hard on. I thumbed the hem of my boxers, letting my erection bounce against Olivia’s perfect fucking ass.

God.

That ass.

Sometimes I just want to tear whatever fucking item of clothing she’s wearing off and smack her tanned ass cheeks so fucking hard that she yelps. Actually, I have done that before. And fuck does it make her turn her thighs into a fucking floodplain. So, yeah. I shoved her yoga pants down, rolling the stretchy neon pink fabric to just below the bottom curve of her cheeks. Unsurprisingly, she wasn’t wearing any panties.

Tsk tsk tsk.

Let’s call that a green light to give it to her fucking hard.

I palmed one plump orb of fucking heaven, warming it up. She looked over her should, watching my hand, squeezing her thighs together in anticipation, and then looked at her computer screen, double-checking that she was on mute.

Hand back and–

THWACK

“Mmf!” she tried to hold her whiny moan in.

My cock was between her legs now, and it pulsed upwards when I spanked her, the swollen tip gently grazing her pussy. I rubbed the sore spot, moving my hips slightly forward, so that my crown was pushing right against her entrance. I could feel her lips enveloping just that first little slope of my cockhead. She looked back at me–AirPods still in–and wordlessly moved her hips, her vulva pushing my cock up slightly, inviting me inside.

Not yet.

SMACK

Her ass fucking rippling from the force.

“You have no idea how hard I’m going to fuck you.” I don’t think she could hear me. She was gripping the side of the desk, looking over her shoulder at me as she bounced her hips like a fucking slut. I could feel her warm wetness starting to coat the crest of my cock. Both hands on her waist, squeezing as I pushed against her, shoving myself inside, but so…fucking…slowly.

I was teasing her, sliding in a fucking millimeter at a time. She looked at me, her icy blue eyes flickering with what appeared to be annoyance. And then she said, “God, will you please just fucking–FUCK--me right now.”

THA-WACK

And so I did. Another hard spank and then my hand shooting up to her messy ponytail, pushing her into the desk as I finally filled her pussy with my bulging slab of pure, unadulterated testosterone. Her empty coffee mug–World’s Cutest Face–shook against the IKEA-brand particle board. Her keyboard jiggled, the keys clacking as I squished my testicles against her soaking labia.

I ran a hand around her waist, slid it over her belly button, down to her mound. Dipped my fingers along her spread lips, gathering wetness before retreating to her clit. I rubbed small, but aggressive circles while I pounded her. Railed her. Fucking owned her. Her pussy. Her Ass. Her fucking clit were mine. And I didn’t want her to just know it. I wanted her to feel it.

And she was fucking feeling it. She was bucking her hips against me every time I drew backwards, keeping my cock firmly entrenched in her tight fucking pussy. She jiggled her ass, bounced it against me, demanding that I keep 100% of my attention of absolutely drubbing her.

My thighs flexed. I leaned forward, towering over her small frame as I did my damnedest to ensure that she’d feel my absence as soon as I slipped out of her pussy.

SMACK

I grabbed her ass cheek and spread it, exposing her tight little asshole. I spit. Started to rub my thumb against that opening while my other hand kept working her clit. I slipped slowly inside, just enough to make her feel even more full.

“How’s that, huh? You fucking slut. Gonna cum for me?”

“Mm, mm,” I don’t think she could hear me. Someone droning on about fucking Excel in her ears. “I’m–I’m–I’m gonna cum on your–fuck–cock.”

Her entire body shivered. She squeezed her legs together tightly, which only served to push me over the edge. I shoved forward, sack against her soaking cunt, and exploded. Throbbing. Rope after fucking rope of cum. Painting that fucking pussy. Her inner walls striated with my dripping semen.

We both breathed heavily. My thrusting started to slow. I felt cum start to trickle backwards, running towards her thighs. I moved my hands, grabbing her hips, rubbing her red ass, and then finally back away.

She stayed leaning over the desk, catching her breath. She reached up, pulling one earbud out. “I, whew, fuck, I think, I think that was one of the actually important meetings.”

I chuckled, “Nothing’s more important than getting fucked, babe..." I paused, thinking, "Except for...maybe spreadsheets.”

One finger.

Isn’t that how it starts?

I tell you, without a hint of irony, “Just the tip, babe, what’s the problem?”

“But there are people around…” You squirm, whine. Wanting it but putting up a play fight.

“Nobody’ll know. Spread your legs a little, let me see those thighs.”

There’s a reason I like you in skirts. In dresses. In anything that can be hiked up to your waist. That one finger starting at your bare knee. Though, sometimes you wear thigh-highs or tights or fishnets. So I tease you–just like you tease me. Why’d you wear that today, huh? Trying to get me hard? Want me to show you how much I need to fucking tear it off you?

Lemme stretch the fabric. Pretend like I’m going to rip it. Sometimes I do. And then you’ll pout, but only for a minute, your brain a blank slate of need as soon as I drag my digit along your thong. Well, when you wear one, that is. Sometimes you’re bad. Or maybe just over-eager. I push my hand along your thigh to find nothing impeding my progress towards your slit.

“No thong today?”

You bite your lip and try to look innocent. Bat your pretty eyes at me and act like you forgot.

“You didn’t fucking forget. You wanted to feel the fucking ocean breeze against your pussy. You were hoping that I’d find you like this.”

Oh, you’ll protest and act like that couldn’t possibly be true. But you’ll shut up as soon as my index finger is spreading your folds, knocking at your entrance, pushing its way in–isn’t that wetness enough of an invitation?

Look at me while I do it. Keep those big round eyes on mine. I wanna watch them go wide as I push slowly inside you. Watch you close ‘em, squirm, and hold ‘em. Once I’m two knuckles in I’ll double-back, following a similar path to exit with a rude little flick. Back in. A few more times. Until I stop to let you catch your breath–you’re getting so fucking noisy, aren’t you? I’ll pull free of your reflexive grip and slowly raise my hand to your mouth.

“Suck it. Tastes like a bad fucking girl.”

And god do you ever suck it. Like a famished, desperate little thing. Sweet and tangy and salty. When you get into it, I mean, you really get into it. Sucking my finger like it’s my cock. Spit across my cuticle. Drool over my knuckle. The tactile bump of your tastebuds over each distinct line.

Two fingers.

That’s all it takes to make you absolutely simmer with need. Two fingers in your pussy. Index. Middle. Spreading just enough to fill you up. Dragging back and forth intermittently. Slowly. Steadily. Deliberately.

This is when you have to spread your legs wider. Put your feet up on your seat and let me get deeper. Deeper. Deeper still. You know my fingers are long and I like to push ‘em in right up to my palm. And when I get going you start to get so noisy you have to bite on your sweater or I have to squeeze your neck just enough to shut you up. Do you want everyone to hear you sounding so desperately insatiable? Surely not. Actually, let’s be honest, I know that thought turns you on too.

Your thighs glisten. Your moans quicken. My fingers dart in and out, leaving prints all along the walls of your cunt. That’s what makes it mine, right? Let me leave my marks. Let me gesture come hither along the anterior until I hit the spot. Then flick outwards again, making a V as I squeeze on either side of your tumescent clit. Push your folds together around that needy nub, making it jump. Making you fidget.

Three fingers?

Think you can take that?

Sometimes you can. Other times you just beg for me to replace my hand with my dick. It’s hard. Of course it’s hard for you. And if we were somewhere quieter I’d be bending you over, squeezing your ass with these slick hands and fucking you bareback. But we’re not, so quit begging and wait. You’ll cum one way or another, won’t you? I always make sure of that. Whether with my tongue, or a toy, or–quite simply–with a single, solitary finger.

And yeah, maybe I should punish you differently. With a belt or a paddle or some other tool. But, you know me, I really like to work with my hands. I like to be direct. Like to feel you myself. Like to make you learn the location of every little callous. Because, ultimately, what I want is for you to buck and moan and writhe and twist.

So do it for me now. Don’t be shy. You can bite my ear as you cum against my wrist.

---

This is an invitation to chat. You coming?

The crickets hummed in a neary harmony while he tasted her for the first time. The vaguely metallic, salty tang spread across his flattened tongue. Her shudder of pleasure correlated with the throbbing beneath his torn black jeans.

The harvest moon was a gleaming pumpkin in the sky, giving his pale skin a fiery glow.He arched his cool, slender fingers–just as adept on a bass as a woman–to dig beneath her skirt and into her bare ass. She was splayed in the bed of her pickup on a crudely strewn flannel blanket. It would be wet soon–soaked through with a cocktail of fluids that only riotous fornication could produce.

They were parked at the end of a dirt-packed road in the sticks, their slowly entwining bodies shrouded by the overgrown prairie grass. It swayed in the gentle autumn breeze as his tongue lapped against the pink of her thong. He pushed it to the side and held his muscle taut, flicking it softly but hungrily against the pyramidal folds that held her pinkened pearl.

As her taste sweated down his chin he thought of biting into a peach and then felt the abrupt emergence of his fangs. She ran her hands through his close-cropped chestnut hair and arched her back, demanding that he not grow distracted just yet. He let the sharpened ivory graze against her inner thigh, eliciting a streak of goosebumps along her reddening skin. He hoped she’d let him taste something more soon.

---

“Where’s Jack?” Wes sat in the open door of the band’s worn navy cargo van. He flicked his cigarette against the broken asphalt of the old strip mall’s parking lot. There was nothing here now. Just the soiled shadows above each storefront where signs used to hang. Monroeville had seen better days.

“He took out that girl from the show.” Cole was leaning against the van, his burgundy Doc Martens tracing half-crescents in the marbled blacktop.

“Think he’ll make her his familiar?” Wes was lighting a new cigarette, the flickering spark of a match illuminating his sallow but alluring face.

Cole waved away the first puff of smoke. “Probably. He’s always quick to choose when we stop.”

Wes could tell there was something on Cole’s mind. The drummer thought himself stoic, but he had a tell. He stared off into space, stamping his heel into the pavement. Wes broke the silence, “What’s wrong, man?”

Cole ran his hand over his shaved head and sighed, “When are we going to stop someplace…worth visiting? I’m sick of these dead-end towns. It feels like spending every day inside a coffin.”

A crackling voice drifted through the van’s open window. It was a local AM station drifting along the brisk breeze behind a wave of white noise, “Some band…The Unholy Ones--real nice name, fellas–played a show at Griswold's tonight. We don’t get many musicians in Monroeville, but I don’t think we need these satanic, black-clad punks. This is a nice town…”

Wes leaned back across the shag-carpeted interior of the van, closing his eyes as he answered, “You know why, Cole. Cities are dangerous. Out here…” He paused, thinking about the miles of cornfields they’d driven through to end up here, playing a show in a cramped bar next to a half-burnt bowling alley. “Well, out here it’s easy to get lost, you know? To pick up and leave when it’s time. And if there’s trouble…we can handle it. The police ain’t shit. Bunch of assholes who peaked twenty years ago.

Cole knew there was no point prodding further, so he changed the subject, “Do you think Jack should really be out alone? We’re both still new bloods.”

Wes waved his hand dismissively, the cigarette glowing like an ember in the dark cab, “He’ll be fine. That girl’s a fangbanger–she knows the drill.”

“How could you tell?”

The band’s leader sat up again, stretching his lean but strong legs across the pavement, “You’ll learn to pick up on it eventually. The wounds from a bite never fully heal. They’re faint, but they’re there. And they tend to itch when the donor’s in the presence of a vampire. Didn’t you notice how often she rubbed her neck? I could tell she was hot for it.”

Cole nodded contemplatively, pushing a finger inside his mouth to disperse the dull ache against his gums. It had faded over the past several months, but Wes said it would never vanish entirely–our cross to bear. Cole gazed down the two-lane road that sloped towards nowhere, disappearing under the crush of a star-filled sky, “What about you, Wes? Got your eyes on anyone?”

Wes stood up, pushing back a wavy strand of pitch-black hair as he stalked out into the night. Cole followed his gaze across the road, fixating on the Monroeville Memorial Cemetery. Wes spun round with his arms held wide, “Matter of fact I do. Caught her making eyes at me at the show. I saw something in her. Something I have to make mine.” He felt a twinge of desire that started in his groin and ran to his lips. “She’s there right now,” he jerked his head towards the cemetery.

Cole cracked his knuckles, “What kind of chick hangs out in a boneyard after dark?”

“One looking to dance with the undead, apparently,” Wes grinned.

“Gonna make her yours?”

Wes looked back and shrugged, his callous renegade charm tugging at even Cole’s frigid heart. “Ours. And once I drag her down into that waiting sexual abyss, she’ll never want to do anything but crawl.”

He began to walk cross the street, flicking the bud of his cigarette into the road.

“Wes!” Cole called after him, “You should really quit smoking.”

Wes didn’t turn around, but waved over his head as he passed under the graveyard’s wrought iron gates. “I’ll quit when I’m dead.”

---

OOC

Thanks for reading! Up for a tour through fading, desolate towns with an all-vampire punk band? Then you’ve come to the right place.

I’ll be writing in third-person, but you can do whatever POV you prefer. I write long and slow (ideally in past-tense) and appreciate the same. Though, just to be clear, I don’t expect exchanges as long as what I’ve written above. I was merely luxuriating in the setup and vibe. I also enjoy chatting with my partners OOC and prefer to write on Discord.

I’m happy to pick this up with your character encountering Wes in the cemetery, but we can start elsewhere if you have something in mind. You play who you like, but some questions to consider: Is she from Monroeville? Visiting? Just passing through? Is she aware of vampires? Is she supernatural? What’s she doing in a graveyard at night? And, most importantly, why is she so cool?

Yes, please: sexual tension, imaginative domination/submission, impact play (spanking, slapping, etc.), fingering, degradation/humiliation, name-calling, very sloppy facefucking, dubcon/blackmail/noncon, cunnilingus, intense/rough sex, gagging/choking, manipulation/corruption, outercourse, overwhelming urges, cumplay, facials, sexy outfits/partially-clothed sex/torn clothing/costumes and a sense of humor.

No: underage characters, incest, animals, snuff, scat/watersports, people with no chill.

---

If you're reading this sentence, it means this prompt is still very much open.

It started innocently enough: I was feeling horny one Sunday morning. Normally, I’d just work that out myself, but Olivia was right there being such a fucking tease. She was laying on her stomach on the couch, wearing her “cozy socks” (bright pink and fluffy) and her ridiculous yoga shorts, which were so tight that her ass was neatly divided into two perfect, luscious spheres.

She was fucking around on TikTok or whatever. Way less important than my cock. And when I walked by behind the couch, lazily rubbing my budding erection through my sweats, I thought, “I should just fuck her.” Why not, right? Olivia loved to be involved if I was feeling horny and had told me before that I should just use her sometime. It was kind of an off-handed remark, but it was the sort that stuck with me. Use her, eh? Now, that sounded fun.

I sat on the backs of her thighs and began grinding my erection against her ass. “Hmm?” She peeked over her shoulder distractedly, “Horny?”

“Yeah,” I nodded, my eyes focused on her plump ass. “I think I’ll fuck you.” I pulled down her shorts and then pushed her plain black thong to the side.

“Oh!” She seemed pleasantly surprised. She wiggled her hips invitingly, the bottoms of her cheeks brushing against my cockhead. “Do you wanna–MMPH!”

“Shush.” I grabbed a handful of her copper hair and pushed her into the seat cushion. Quickly enough, I was inside her, my cock pushing in and out of her sopping pussy. It was a quick one. I held her in that position–one hand on her head, the other gripping her ass–while I fucked her. I could hear her muffled, needy whines. When I was close I pulled back on her hair, lifting her head up, and gave her left ass cheek a hard smack.

“Fuck!” she yelped just as I came inside her. I shoved her forward again, both palms digging into her ass as I filled her slit with my cum. When my balls were empty I pulled out, gave her ass another smack for good measure and went to wash off.

She called after me, “That was, um, really fucking hot. You should do that again sometime.”

---

The next time I was even more assertive. Olivia was reading a book in bed. She had her glasses on, was all cozied up with her hair in a big, messy bun, and was wearing her favorite oversized t-shirt. Once again, I was feeling horny and had spent a bit of time watching some facefucking videos prior to retiring to our bedroom. So when I walked in and saw Olivia laying there, consumed by her novel, all I could think of was how much I wanted to use her mouth.

I was only wearing boxer briefs at the time, so when I climbed on top of her, but my knees next to her shoulders, and pushed her book aside, she got a face full of hard on.

“Babe, hold on, I’m trying to finish–”

“I need your mouth,” I thumbed my waist band down and let my erection tumble against her forehead. I dragged it down, smearing a sticky length of precum along Olivia’s nose. Then I pushed against her pink lips, which she eagerly parted for me. Setting aside her book, she grabbed the backs of my thighs, inviting me into her waiting throat.

Something about using her like that really turned me on, which led to more aggression than usual. I grabbed her messy bun, using it like a handle while I fucked her against the headboard. She looked over her glasses–which were sliding down her nose at this point–and made eye contact with me. There was something needy in her watery blue eyes and that look encouraged me to choke her with my shaft.

“GLUCK, pshwaff, GLUCK, GLUCK, phleck,” spit ran down her chin, breaking in thick, sticky strands against her oversized shirt. It was now thoroughly drenched in saliva.

I grasped the sides of her head with both hands, “Fuck, that’s it, fuck, you’re gonna make me cum, baby.”

I pulled out of her mouth just as a massive spurt of semen snapped across her glasses, nearly catching her in the eye. A second rope of cum nearly went up her nostril, but instead landed along the bridge of her nose. A third went into her hair (which I knew she’d be annoyed about) and a fourth and fifth hit her cheek.

I fell off her, expecting her to be at least somewhat irritated that I decided to fuck her face while she was reading. To my surprise, she sat there, my cum dripping down to her chin, for a few moments. Then, her hand slipped between her thighs and she began to finger herself.

“You okay?” I cocked an eyebrow at her.

“That made me, mmmm, fuck, that made me really wet,” she whined in response.

I grabbed her vibrator from the bedside table and pushed it against her clit, “Oh yeah?”

“Ah, mhm, mhm,” she was grinding against the vibrator. “You just…took what you wanted. It was really hot.”

“Yeah? So, I should just fuck you whenever I feel like now?”

“Well…mmh, ah, fuck, that’s it. Maybe not whenever, but I think you should use me when you need to. I always want to get you off.”

“So you won’t mind if I treat you like a toy?”

“Definitely treat me like a toy. Like a little fuck toy. I want you to use me when you need release.”

“Shake on it,” I demanded as she inched near orgasm.

“Ah, mhm, ah, ah, I’m so…close,” she bit her bottom lip as she tried to hold my extended hand. She came just as we shook on it, her body shuddering in small tidal waves of pleasure. “Whew, okay, okay. You can fuck me whenever you need to, Sir.”

“Good girl.” I ran my index finger along her face, collecting my semen and then directing it into her mouth. “I’m going to enjoy using you.”

It started innocently enough: I was feeling horny one Sunday morning. Normally, I’d just work that out myself, but Olivia was right there being such a fucking tease. She was laying on her stomach on the couch, wearing her “cozy socks” (bright pink and fluffy) and her ridiculous yoga shorts, which were so tight that her ass was neatly divided into two perfect, luscious spheres.

She was fucking around on TikTok or whatever. Way less important than my cock. And when I walked by behind the couch, lazily rubbing my budding erection through my sweats, I thought, “I should just fuck her.” Why not, right? Olivia loved to be involved if I was feeling horny and had told me before that I should just use her sometime. It was kind of an off-handed remark, but it was the sort that stuck with me. Use her, eh? Now, that sounded fun.

I sat on the backs of her thighs and began grinding my erection against her ass. “Hmm?” She peeked over her shoulder distractedly, “Horny?”

“Yeah,” I nodded, my eyes focused on her plump ass. “I think I’ll fuck you.” I pulled down her shorts and then pushed her plain black thong to the side.

“Oh!” She seemed pleasantly surprised. She wiggled her hips invitingly, the bottoms of her cheeks brushing against my cockhead. “Do you wanna–MMPH!”

“Shush.” I grabbed a handful of her copper hair and pushed her into the seat cushion. Quickly enough, I was inside her, my cock pushing in and out of her sopping pussy. It was a quick one. I held her in that position–one hand on her head, the other gripping her ass–while I fucked her. I could hear her muffled, needy whines. When I was close I pulled back on her hair, lifting her head up, and gave her left ass cheek a hard smack.

“Fuck!” she yelped just as I came inside her. I shoved her forward again, both palms digging into her ass as I filled her slit with my cum. When my balls were empty I pulled out, gave her ass another smack for good measure and went to wash off.

She called after me, “That was, um, really fucking hot. You should do that again sometime.”

---

The next time I was even more assertive. Olivia was reading a book in bed. She had her glasses on, was all cozied up with her hair in a big, messy bun, and was wearing her favorite oversized t-shirt. Once again, I was feeling horny and had spent a bit of time watching some facefucking videos prior to retiring to our bedroom. So when I walked in and saw Olivia laying there, consumed by her novel, all I could think of was how much I wanted to use her mouth.

I was only wearing boxer briefs at the time, so when I climbed on top of her, but my knees next to her shoulders, and pushed her book aside, she got a face full of hard on.

“Babe, hold on, I’m trying to finish–”

“I need your mouth,” I thumbed my waist band down and let my erection tumble against her forehead. I dragged it down, smearing a sticky length of precum along Olivia’s nose. Then I pushed against her pink lips, which she eagerly parted for me. Setting aside her book, she grabbed the backs of my thighs, inviting me into her waiting throat.

Something about using her like that really turned me on, which led to more aggression than usual. I grabbed her messy bun, using it like a handle while I fucked her against the headboard. She looked over her glasses–which were sliding down her nose at this point–and made eye contact with me. There was something needy in her watery blue eyes and that look encouraged me to choke her with my shaft.

“GLUCK, pshwaff, GLUCK, GLUCK, phleck,” spit ran down her chin, breaking in thick, sticky strands against her oversized shirt. It was now thoroughly drenched in saliva.

I grasped the sides of her head with both hands, “Fuck, that’s it, fuck, you’re gonna make me cum, baby.”

I pulled out of her mouth just as a massive spurt of semen snapped across her glasses, nearly catching her in the eye. A second rope of cum nearly went up her nostril, but instead landed along the bridge of her nose. A third went into her hair (which I knew she’d be annoyed about) and a fourth and fifth hit her cheek.

I fell off her, expecting her to be at least somewhat irritated that I decided to fuck her face while she was reading. To my surprise, she sat there, my cum dripping down to her chin, for a few moments. Then, her hand slipped between her thighs and she began to finger herself.

“You okay?” I cocked an eyebrow at her.

“That made me, mmmm, fuck, that made me really wet,” she whined in response.

I grabbed her vibrator from the bedside table and pushed it against her clit, “Oh yeah?”

“Ah, mhm, mhm,” she was grinding against the vibrator. “You just…took what you wanted. It was really hot.”

“Yeah? So, I should just fuck you whenever I feel like now?”

“Well…mmh, ah, fuck, that’s it. Maybe not whenever, but I think you should use me when you need to. I always want to get you off.”

“So you won’t mind if I treat you like a toy?”

“Definitely treat me like a toy. Like a little fuck toy. I want you to use me when you need release.”

“Shake on it,” I demanded as she inched near orgasm.

“Ah, mhm, ah, ah, I’m so…close,” she bit her bottom lip as she tried to hold my extended hand. She came just as we shook on it, her body shuddering in small tidal waves of pleasure. “Whew, okay, okay. You can fuck me whenever you need to, Sir.”

“Good girl.” I ran my index finger along her face, collecting my semen and then directing it into her mouth. “I’m going to enjoy using you.”

It started innocently enough: I was feeling horny one Sunday morning. Normally, I’d just work that out myself, but Olivia was right there being such a fucking tease. She was laying on her stomach on the couch, wearing her “cozy socks” (bright pink and fluffy) and her ridiculous yoga shorts, which were so tight that her ass was neatly divided into two perfect, luscious spheres.

She was fucking around on TikTok or whatever. Way less important than my cock. And when I walked by behind the couch, lazily rubbing my budding erection through my sweats, I thought, “I should just fuck her.” Why not, right? Olivia loved to be involved if I was feeling horny and had told me before that I should just use her sometime. It was kind of an off-handed remark, but it was the sort that stuck with me. Use her, eh? Now, that sounded fun.

I sat on the backs of her thighs and began grinding my erection against her ass. “Hmm?” She peeked over her shoulder distractedly, “Horny?”

“Yeah,” I nodded, my eyes focused on her plump ass. “I think I’ll fuck you.” I pulled down her shorts and then pushed her plain black thong to the side.

“Oh!” She seemed pleasantly surprised. She wiggled her hips invitingly, the bottoms of her cheeks brushing against my cockhead. “Do you wanna–MMPH!”

“Shush.” I grabbed a handful of her copper hair and pushed her into the seat cushion. Quickly enough, I was inside her, my cock pushing in and out of her sopping pussy. It was a quick one. I held her in that position–one hand on her head, the other gripping her ass–while I fucked her. I could hear her muffled, needy whines. When I was close I pulled back on her hair, lifting her head up, and gave her left ass cheek a hard smack.

“Fuck!” she yelped just as I came inside her. I shoved her forward again, both palms digging into her ass as I filled her slit with my cum. When my balls were empty I pulled out, gave her ass another smack for good measure and went to wash off.

She called after me, “That was, um, really fucking hot. You should do that again sometime.”

---

The next time I was even more assertive. Olivia was reading a book in bed. She had her glasses on, was all cozied up with her hair in a big, messy bun, and was wearing her favorite oversized t-shirt. Once again, I was feeling horny and had spent a bit of time watching some facefucking videos prior to retiring to our bedroom. So when I walked in and saw Olivia laying there, consumed by her novel, all I could think of was how much I wanted to use her mouth.

I was only wearing boxer briefs at the time, so when I climbed on top of her, but my knees next to her shoulders, and pushed her book aside, she got a face full of hard on.

“Babe, hold on, I’m trying to finish–”

“I need your mouth,” I thumbed my waist band down and let my erection tumble against her forehead. I dragged it down, smearing a sticky length of precum along Olivia’s nose. Then I pushed against her pink lips, which she eagerly parted for me. Setting aside her book, she grabbed the backs of my thighs, inviting me into her waiting throat.

Something about using her like that really turned me on, which led to more aggression than usual. I grabbed her messy bun, using it like a handle while I fucked her against the headboard. She looked over her glasses–which were sliding down her nose at this point–and made eye contact with me. There was something needy in her watery blue eyes and that look encouraged me to choke her with my shaft.

“GLUCK, pshwaff, GLUCK, GLUCK, phleck,” spit ran down her chin, breaking in thick, sticky strands against her oversized shirt. It was now thoroughly drenched in saliva.

I grasped the sides of her head with both hands, “Fuck, that’s it, fuck, you’re gonna make me cum, baby.”

I pulled out of her mouth just as a massive spurt of semen snapped across her glasses, nearly catching her in the eye. A second rope of cum nearly went up her nostril, but instead landed along the bridge of her nose. A third went into her hair (which I knew she’d be annoyed about) and a fourth and fifth hit her cheek.

I fell off her, expecting her to be at least somewhat irritated that I decided to fuck her face while she was reading. To my surprise, she sat there, my cum dripping down to her chin, for a few moments. Then, her hand slipped between her thighs and she began to finger herself.

“You okay?” I cocked an eyebrow at her.

“That made me, mmmm, fuck, that made me really wet,” she whined in response.

I grabbed her vibrator from the bedside table and pushed it against her clit, “Oh yeah?”

“Ah, mhm, mhm,” she was grinding against the vibrator. “You just…took what you wanted. It was really hot.”

“Yeah? So, I should just fuck you whenever I feel like now?”

“Well…mmh, ah, fuck, that’s it. Maybe not whenever, but I think you should use me when you need to. I always want to get you off.”

“So you won’t mind if I treat you like a toy?”

“Definitely treat me like a toy. Like a little fuck toy. I want you to use me when you need release.”

“Shake on it,” I demanded as she inched near orgasm.

“Ah, mhm, ah, ah, I’m so…close,” she bit her bottom lip as she tried to hold my extended hand. She came just as we shook on it, her body shuddering in small tidal waves of pleasure. “Whew, okay, okay. You can fuck me whenever you need to, Sir.”

“Good girl.” I ran my index finger along her face, collecting my semen and then directing it into her mouth. “I’m going to enjoy using you.”

It starts with that first kiss of summer.

When the sun is bright—near blinding—and the days run long. And the asters and coneflowers sway in the gentle breeze, as if inviting you to come on over, to lean in.

You will, of course, always and often, hair tucked behind your hair as you smell the fragile stamen, petals brushing against your cheek. And how lucky for me, that your dress matches the space, the season, the spirit. Floral And flowy. Easy to wear and remove. Sometimes hitting above your ankles. Often hitting above your knee. But always ending up above your waist.

Isn’t that why it slides so easily? Up and over your sun-kissed skin. It’s a pleasant contrast—my calloused hands roaming along your smooth calves and soft inner thighs. I could spend some time here. Press the hem of your dress between your legs. I like the way the breezy linen and viscose falls over my hands, hiding them as soon as they’re sinking under your dress.

Usually I slow down, taking the time to grasp your waist or draw circles around the birthmark on your outer thigh. It’s summer, where do we have to be? We could lay here all day. Kiss and undress and get tangled up in sheets. I like it in the daytime, when the light shines through the slatted blinds and leaves thin rays along your bare cheeks.

But no matter how long it takes, you know where I’ll end up and just never seem to wear anything else when you’ve got on a dress, huh? Funny how that works. I guess we both prefer the efficiency. The lack of impediment. When I squeeze your adductors you know it’s getting serious. My lips on your neck as I ambulate to my destination. I’m close now. So close. But isn’t the journey just as fun? That sense of anticipation before I reach the coast. The outer bank. The inner bank. And soon enough, the brook.

Slipping in. Just a warm summer dip. A little further, testing the waters. We could go skinny-dipping—you and I. Jumping into the hidden basin off that makeshift rope swing. And you would press your bare body against me just like you’re doing now. With a moan, a purr, a dainty little kiss.

I’m not so sure this will cool us down, but it’ll offer another form of release. So let me lift this variegated sundress and dig in a little bit. You won’t mind if I make myself comfortable, will you? You’re already doing the same: that peach—ripe and pink in hue—nestled up against me, met by a throb in return, a warmth of my own, something to make you full. Call it your nectary and my proboscis—tongue, fingers, or something more occlusive.

Settle in and settle onto it Let me take the lead. We’ll both end up breaking a sweat. That salty sweet of summertime heat. But that’s only appropriate. And if you’ll just wait a little while, you’ll shiver and shake like it’s winter again. Then you’ll feel a radiating glow when it’s all said and done, the sun setting in the northwest.

You know,

flowers smell the best—the strongest—when they mean to attract pollinators. I think that must be true of you too. Because today, tomorrow, and the next, your salty summer breeze of a scent is such a damned determined instigator. But just like a rapacious honeyeater, I’m always ready to come on by.

Kylee knew what she was doing.

That swimsuit...

It was definitely not godly.

Two-piece. Black with white piping. A top that seemed more like a suggestion--her tits more than half-exposed--and a bottom that was truly, honestly, a thong.

"Is that even legal to wear?"

She was sitting on the edge of the boat, with her feet in the water. She looked at me over her shoulder and I saw myself--and my obvious erection--reflected in her sunglasses. "Maybe not around you."

I pushed my swim trunks down and pulled my cock out. We were at the lake with friends, but they were all on the beach. We had the privacy of a boat. Finally, I'd be able to ask Kylee if she wanted to take the helm. Or get a brand new life jacket. Okay, that one didn't really make sense. Maybe. I was onto something.

She leaned backwards, arching her spine and soaking up the sun as I imagined various sexy, nautical puns. Of course, yes, she was looking very lovely and sun-kissed, but what she was really doing was teasing me. I could see down her cleavage as my cock thumped against my palm. She knew it. And she loved it. Droplets sparkled against her collarbones as she moved her hand up to her top.

Her fingers wrapped around the nylon, teased along the cup of her bikini, pulled it, arched her back more.

This was stupid.

God.

The sun was beaming down on her like she was a fucking saint. But, really, she was a temptress. And I'll be damned if she didn't turn it into an art form. She was practically writhing on the deck now, her body glinting with a thin sheen of water as she ran one hand along her top and the other along her tiny, tiny bottoms.

I was settling back in my seat, my cock a curved flag, out and proud, swaying side to side as I watched her. Kylee was clearly equally aroused. She slid her hand into her swimsuit bottoms and I watched as the fabric stretched in little waves, her fingers teasing at her clit while small moans escaped her lips.

"No one can see us, right?" I peeked around my erection, giving her a sly smile.

"What do you care? I bet you'd love it if someone saw me rolling around like a slut for you."

"Hey, you said it." I started pumping harder.

"I bet I can make you cum without even touching you," she pulled back part of her top, revealing a pert, pink nipple calling for attention.

I glanced around. The boat was bobbing gently in the lake. There was laughter in the distance but no one I could see. Just Kylee and me.

I spit in my palm. "Do as I say?"

"Mhm, always."

"Both tits out."

Kylee was kneeling now, facing me while she teased her nipple with her open palm. She pulled back the other cup and pressed her tits together. "Like this?"

I thumped my cock against my open palm, wishing it was Kylee's outstretched tongue. She moved a little closer, still holding her tits together, eyes roaming along my throbbing shaft. "I bet you want me to lick it."

"I'd call you clairvoyant, but I always want you to lick it."

She smirked, paused, staring and then--she lunged forward, mouth wide, and my rock hard shaft disappeared with alarmingly alacrity down her throat.

"Oh fuck."

It wasn't the first time Kylee had deepthroated me but I wasn't prepared for how quickly her nose hit my abdomen.

Gluck, gluck, gluck.

"Fucking hell." My fingers threaded through her damp hair as she kept up a relentless pace.

Gluck, gluck, gluck.

I was fully prepared for this to be one of Kylee's teases, where she made me cum without even touching me, so the sudden jump to a full-throated assaulted had me curling my toes, pressing them into Kylee's ass, flexing my calves, trying to avoid immediately cumming.

Gluck, gluck, gluck.

But all that teasing, all that edging--------I couldn't hold out long. Her nose hit my stomach again and I burst inside of her. My cock pulsed violently, my hand on the back of her head, holding her in place as my cum flooded her mouth.

"Fuck, that's so fucking good," I thrust upwards, pumping my cock into her mouth as I filled it with my cum. She held me tight, her manicured nails digging into my inner thighs until I finally slowed down. One more upwards thrust. She suctioned the tip of my cock, getting every last drop out, looked up at me, and finally swallowed.

"Phew," Kylee pulled off me and took several deep breaths. For a moment the only noises were our shared panting and the gentle swaying of the boat.

I looked from my cock--now sitting stickily against my thigh--to Kylee, her bare tits heaving up and down as she panted. "Turn around."

"Hm?" She raised an eyebrow.

"Stand up and turn around."

Like a good girl, she did as she was told, presenting her ass--barely contained by her tiny bottom--for my inspection. I placed my hand on the small of her back and leaned her forward. She placed her hands on the boat deck to steady herself as I used my other hand to slowly pull her bottoms down. Her sticky wetness was obvious. I ran my index finger along her slit and then leaned forward, holding my tongue firm and straight as I traced along the same path as my finger.

I kept both hands on her waist, holding her in place as she shivered against my tongue.

"My turn to swear," she almost moaned.

"You never swear," I teased into her pussy, my tongue darting out for several fast, firm licks. I squeezed her ass and leaned in deeper, taking my lips up to suck on her clit. Kylee reached back to run her hand through my hair. I sunk in further, teasing her clit and then shoving my tongue into her pussy. In and out. In and out. I thought of fucking her and my cock began to throb against my leg.

"Come here," I grunted between her thighs, grabbing her hips again and spinning her to face me. "This is easier," I granted as I palmed her ass and pushed her pussy against my chin. "That's right, fucking grind against me." My tongue flicked out as she bucked her hips. I pushed my index and middle fingers inside of her and felt her clench as I continued to tongue her clit.

She had one hand in my hair and the other teasing her nipple as she continued to grind against me. She was getting close.

"Mm, mhm, yes, oh, fu---ah!"

There it was. Her body tightening and then shaking, ass clenching, pussy dripping. I licked it up. Teased her clit until she pushed me away, "Whew, whew, wait, too sensitive."

She collapsed on the deck, small tremors still running through her body as she stared at my still thick cock.

"That was--yeah, that was--wow," she muttered incoherently. After a few quiet moments, she straightened out her swim top and pulled up her bottoms. "I think I need to take a dip now. Cool off a bit."

"Mhm, me too," I replied as I pulled up my trunks.

"Hopefully we didn't make the boat rock too much," she giggled as she dipped her feet into the water.

"I'm sure it could have been much worse," I chuckled before diving in.

One finger.

Isn’t that how it starts?

I tell you, without a hint of irony, “Just the tip, babe, what’s the problem?”

“But there are people around…” You squirm, whine. Wanting it but putting up a play fight.

“Nobody’ll know. Spread your legs a little, let me see those thighs.”

There’s a reason I like you in skirts. In dresses. In anything that can be hiked up to your waist. That one finger starting at your bare knee. Though, sometimes you wear thigh-highs or tights or fishnets. So I tease you–just like you tease me. Why’d you wear that today, huh? Trying to get me hard? Want me to show you how much I need to fucking tear it off you?

Lemme stretch the fabric. Pretend like I’m going to rip it. Sometimes I do. And then you’ll pout, but only for a minute, your brain a blank slate of need as soon as I drag my digit along your thong. Well, when you wear one, that is. Sometimes you’re bad. Or maybe just over-eager. I push my hand along your thigh to find nothing impeding my progress towards your slit.

“No thong today?”

You bite your lip and try to look innocent. Bat your pretty eyes at me and act like you forgot.

“You didn’t fucking forget. You wanted to feel the fucking ocean breeze against your pussy. You were hoping that I’d find you like this.”

Oh, you’ll protest and act like that couldn’t possibly be true. But you’ll shut up as soon as my index finger is spreading your folds, knocking at your entrance, pushing its way in–isn’t that wetness enough of an invitation?

Look at me while I do it. Keep those big round eyes on mine. I wanna watch them go wide as I push slowly inside you. Watch you close ‘em, squirm, and hold ‘em. Once I’m two knuckles in I’ll double-back, following a similar path to exit with a rude little flick. Back in. A few more times. Until I stop to let you catch your breath–you’re getting so fucking noisy, aren’t you? I’ll pull free of your reflexive grip and slowly raise my hand to your mouth.

“Suck it. Tastes like a bad fucking girl.”

And god do you ever suck it. Like a famished, desperate little thing. Sweet and tangy and salty. When you get into it, I mean, you really get into it. Sucking my finger like it’s my cock. Spit across my cuticle. Drool over my knuckle. The tactile bump of your tastebuds over each distinct line.

Two fingers.

That’s all it takes to make you absolutely simmer with need. Two fingers in your pussy. Index. Middle. Spreading just enough to fill you up. Dragging back and forth intermittently. Slowly. Steadily. Deliberately.

This is when you have to spread your legs wider. Put your feet up on your seat and let me get deeper. Deeper. Deeper still. You know my fingers are long and I like to push ‘em in right up to my palm. And when I get going you start to get so noisy you have to bite on your sweater or I have to squeeze your neck just enough to shut you up. Do you want everyone to hear you sounding so desperately insatiable? Surely not. Actually, let’s be honest, I know that thought turns you on too.

Your thighs glisten. Your moans quicken. My fingers dart in and out, leaving prints all along the walls of your cunt. That’s what makes it mine, right? Let me leave my marks. Let me gesture come hither along the anterior until I hit the spot. Then flick outwards again, making a V as I squeeze on either side of your tumescent clit. Push your folds together around that needy nub, making it jump. Making you fidget.

Three fingers?

Think you can take that?

Sometimes you can. Other times you just beg for me to replace my hand with my dick. It’s hard. Of course it’s hard for you. And if we were somewhere quieter I’d be bending you over, squeezing your ass with these slick hands and fucking you bareback. But we’re not, so quit begging and wait. You’ll cum one way or another, won’t you? I always make sure of that. Whether with my tongue, or a toy, or–quite simply–with a single, solitary finger.

And yeah, maybe I should punish you differently. With a belt or a paddle or some other tool. But, you know me, I really like to work with my hands. I like to be direct. Like to feel you myself. Like to make you learn the location of every little callous. Because, ultimately, what I want is for you to buck and moan and writhe and twist.

So do it for me now. Don’t be shy. You can bite my ear as you cum against my wrist.

---

This is an invitation to chat. You in?

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

Part 11

Part 12

************

Kylee knew what she was doing.

That swimsuit...

It was definitely not godly.

Two-piece. Black with white piping. A top that seemed more like a suggestion--her tits more than half-exposed--and a bottom that was truly, honestly, a thong.

"Is that even legal to wear?"

She was sitting on the edge of the boat, with her feet in the water. She looked at me over her shoulder and I saw myself--and my obvious erection--reflected in her sunglasses. "Maybe not around you."

I pushed my swim trunks down and pulled my cock out. We were at the lake with friends, but they were all on the beach. We had the privacy of a boat. Finally, I'd be able to ask Kylee if she wanted to take the helm. Or get a brand new life jacket. Okay, that one didn't really make sense. Maybe. I was onto something.

She leaned backwards, arching her spine and soaking up the sun as I imagined various sexy, nautical puns. Of course, yes, she was looking very lovely and sun-kissed, but what she was really doing was teasing me. I could see down her cleavage as my cock thumped against my palm. She knew it. And she loved it. Droplets sparkled against her collarbones as she moved her hand up to her top.

Her fingers wrapped around the nylon, teased along the cup of her bikini, pulled it, arched her back more.

This was stupid.

God.

The sun was beaming down on her like she was a fucking saint. But, really, she was a temptress. And I'll be damned if she didn't turn it into an art form. She was practically writhing on the deck now, her body glinting with a thin sheen of water as she ran one hand along her top and the other along her tiny, tiny bottoms.

I was settling back in my seat, my cock a curved flag, out and proud, swaying side to side as I watched her. Kylee was clearly equally aroused. She slid her hand into her swimsuit bottoms and I watched as the fabric stretched in little waves, her fingers teasing at her clit while small moans escaped her lips.

"No one can see us, right?" I peeked around my erection, giving her a sly smile.

"What do you care? I bet you'd love it if someone saw me rolling around like a slut for you."

"Hey, you said it." I started pumping harder.

"I bet I can make you cum without even touching you," she pulled back part of her top, revealing a pert, pink nipple calling for attention.

I glanced around. The boat was bobbing gently in the lake. There was laughter in the distance but no one I could see. Just Kylee and me.

I spit in my palm. "Do as I say?"

"Mhm, always."

"Both tits out."

Kylee was kneeling now, facing me while she teased her nipple with her open palm. She pulled back the other cup and pressed her tits together. "Like this?"

I thumped my cock against my open palm, wishing it was Kylee's outstretched tongue. She moved a little closer, still holding her tits together, eyes roaming along my throbbing shaft. "I bet you want me to lick it."

"I'd call you clairvoyant, but I always want you to lick it."

She smirked, paused, staring and then--she lunged forward, mouth wide, and my rock hard shaft disappeared with alarmingly alacrity down her throat.

"Oh fuck."

It wasn't the first time Kylee had deepthroated me but I wasn't prepared for how quickly her nose hit my abdomen.

Gluck, gluck, gluck.

"Fucking hell." My fingers threaded through her damp hair as she kept up a relentless pace.

Gluck, gluck, gluck.

I was fully prepared for this to be one of Kylee's teases, where she made me cum without even touching me, so the sudden jump to a full-throated assaulted had me curling my toes, pressing them into Kylee's ass, flexing my calves, trying to avoid immediately cumming.

Gluck, gluck, gluck.

But all that teasing, all that edging--------I couldn't hold out long. Her nose hit my stomach again and I burst inside of her. My cock pulsed violently, my hand on the back of her head, holding her in place as my cum flooded her mouth.

"Fuck, that's so fucking good," I thrust upwards, pumping my cock into her mouth as I filled it with my cum. She held me tight, her manicured nails digging into my inner thighs until I finally slowed down. One more upwards thrust. She suctioned the tip of my cock, getting every last drop out, looked up at me, and finally swallowed.

"Phew," Kylee pulled off me and took several deep breaths. For a moment the only noises were our shared panting and the gentle swaying of the boat.

I looked from my cock--now sitting stickily against my thigh--to Kylee, her bare tits heaving up and down as she panted. "Turn around."

"Hm?" She raised an eyebrow.

"Stand up and turn around."

Like a good girl, she did as she was told, presenting her ass--barely contained by her tiny bottom--for my inspection. I placed my hand on the small of her back and leaned her forward. She placed her hands on the boat deck to steady herself as I used my other hand to slowly pull her bottoms down. Her sticky wetness was obvious. I ran my index finger along her slit and then leaned forward, holding my tongue firm and straight as I traced along the same path as my finger.

I kept both hands on her waist, holding her in place as she shivered against my tongue.

"My turn to swear," she almost moaned.

"You never swear," I teased into her pussy, my tongue darting out for several fast, firm licks. I squeezed her ass and leaned in deeper, taking my lips up to suck on her clit. Kylee reached back to run her hand through my hair. I sunk in further, teasing her clit and then shoving my tongue into her pussy. In and out. In and out. I thought of fucking her and my cock began to throb against my leg.

"Come here," I grunted between her thighs, grabbing her hips again and spinning her to face me. "This is easier," I granted as I palmed her ass and pushed her pussy against my chin. "That's right, fucking grind against me." My tongue flicked out as she bucked her hips. I pushed my index and middle fingers inside of her and felt her clench as I continued to tongue her clit.

She had one hand in my hair and the other teasing her nipple as she continued to grind against me. She was getting close.

"Mm, mhm, yes, oh, fu---ah!"

There it was. Her body tightening and then shaking, ass clenching, pussy dripping. I licked it up. Teased her clit until she pushed me away, "Whew, whew, wait, too sensitive."

She collapsed on the deck, small tremors still running through her body as she stared at my still thick cock.

"That was--yeah, that was--wow," she muttered incoherently. After a few quiet moments, she straightened out her swim top and pulled up her bottoms. "I think I need to take a dip now. Cool off a bit."

"Mhm, me too," I replied as I pulled up my trunks.

"Hopefully we didn't make the boat rock too much," she giggled as she dipped her feet into the water.

"I'm sure it could have been much worse," I chuckled before diving in.

Avery stomped his foot into the smoldering ash of the campfire. It was sunrise and the rogue was up early–as usual–ready to break camp and get back on the road.

“Casius!” He called to the barbarian, who was still sleeping in his tent. “Damn lug, always so bloody slow.”

“Hm, hm, hm,” a thin, tall wizard hummed to himself as he wandered back into the camp.

“And where the hell have you been, Ambrose?” Avery felt especially perturbed this morning.

“Looking for gripweed. There’s an old battleground nearby. It grows near corpses.”

“Well, that’s bloody morbid…did you find any?”

The wizard held up a stack of curling, gray weeds that looked like they’d been dead for years. “I’m going to make a fabulous poison with this stuff!”

Ambrose was a tad obsessed with poisons. To an obviously dangerous degree.

A rumbling yawn interrupted the rogue and wizard. “Hell, that bastard must finally be up,” Avery said while rubbing his brow.

As if on cue, the muscular, dark-haired barbarian emerged from his tent. “Ah, fine morning, eh, boys?” His biceps rippled against his tunic as he stretched.

“You slept a damn long time again, Casius. I wanted to be on the road before daybreak.”

“Eh,” he shrugged at the rogue, “what’s the hurry? We’re not going anywhere in particular.”

The wizard raised his eyebrow, “We just talked about this last night. We’re going to Royal Crest, remember? To post our ad.”

The brute clapped his hands together at the realization, “The slut!”

Ambrose chuckled while Avery rolled his eyes. “Don’t say it like that. We can’t just…come out and say when we interview the applicants.”

“But I thought we were looking for a hot little thing to keep us warm while we quest?”

“Yes, of course we are Casius. It would be much more convenient than having to rely on the occasional barmaid,” Ambrose nodded. “But we have to be a bit subtle about it. So our ad is going to say that we’re looking for a female adventurer to join our quests.”

“Ah, I get it,” Casius smiled. “And then we make her our slut!”

---

Royal Crest was a sea-faring town. Its harbor made it a key trading outpost within the Border Kingdoms. Though the region was unstable–subject to the tribal infighting of orcs and the exploratory pushes of humans and elves–it was also rich in natural resources and especially so in the opportunities for adventurers. The relative danger of the area made it an ideal place for Casius, Ambrose, and Avery to not only look for more work, but also a companion. So it was that they posted their ad on the board outside the Frothy Mug:

Legendary heroes Casius the Careless, Ambrose of Averdell, and the dashing rogue Avery Sommer seek a new comrade to join their merry band. Work already lined up. Must be willing to dive headfirst into dangerous situations. High stamina greatly preferred. As an equal-opportunity partnership female adventurers are encouraged to apply! Please call on Avery at the Frothy Mug to arrange an interview.

---

OOC

Welp, this one should be pretty clear. Your character–perhaps some wide-eyed new adventurer, a cocky veteran looking for a new crew, or some princess seeking adventure–responds to the ad, thinking that she’s about to fall in with a lovely band of quest-mates. Turns out–they’re looking to turn her into their personal cocksleeve. Yay.

I'll be writing in third-person, past-tense. You do whatever POV suits you. I write at a relaxed pace and appreciate the same. I'm not looking to engage in a rapid-fire exchange or burn through this prompt in a day.

Yes, please: absurdly sexual situations, good girls and very bad girls, imaginative domination/submission, impact play (spanking, slapping, etc.), fingering, degradation/humiliation, name-calling, very sloppy facefucking, dubcon/blackmail, cunnilingus, intense/rough sex, gagging/choking, manipulation/corruption, outercourse, overwhelming urges, cumplay, facials, sexy outfits/partially-clothed sex/torn clothing/costumes and a sense of humor.

Overall, my preference is for writing rough, sloppy, and intense sex scenes. I also enjoy chatting with my partners, so if you’re all business we likely won’t get on. I also prefer writing on Discord.

No: underage characters, incest, animals, scat/watersports, people with no chill.

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If you’re reading this sentence, it means this prompt is still open. I’m rarely in a rush and always happy to entertain good partners.