Ria's Writing: Free to Be (Masturbation Monday #260 & Wicked Wednesday #378)

This story was actually inspired by last week’s Wicked Wednesday prompt. When I saw "authentic," a song from my childhood came to mind almost immediately—"Free to Be…You and Me." After sitting with that for a couple of days, I came up with this idea. Unfortunately, some computer issues got in the way and kept me preoccupied for a few days. As it turns out, I think this story also works with this week’s Wicked Wednesday "Core" prompt too.

The characters in this story might be the same ones from "One Summer Day"—just at a different point in their timeline.

Please click on the badges below the story to read all the other posts!

Hope you enjoy,

Ria ;)

Website: http://www.riarestrepo.com

Twitter: @RiaRestrepo

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/RiaRestrepoAuthorPage

Warning: Contains some rather filthy dirty talk with name-calling and a little Daddy Dom role-playing.

Free To Be…

By Ria Restrepo

To be honest, I dreaded family gatherings. My relatives could be volatile and putting more than one together for any length of time was a dangerous proposition. If the evening didn't end in a brouhaha and two or more of them not speaking to each other, it was a miracle.

There was my aunt with her thinly veiled snide comments, my overly opinionated uncles, and my father whose sense of humor usually involved ridiculing others. And then there was me, the good girl, the quiet one who tried to avoid the fray. I just stood there with a smile plastered on my face, nodding and making bland comments whenever appropriate, absorbing all the tension in the room until I felt like my head would explode.

A strong hand took hold of my arm and I glanced back to see the only saving grace of the whole evening.

"Come with me."

I let him pull me away without asking any questions, because whatever he had in mind would be a welcome relief. He led me upstairs and into one of the guest bedrooms at the furthest end of the house. After closing and locking the door behind us, he swiftly pushed me down so I was bent over a low dresser.

My forearms braced on the wooden surface, I looked up and found his reflection in the mirror that was only inches from my face. I recognized his steely expression immediately and a shot of adrenaline shot through my veins.

"I couldn’t stand seeing that fake sweet smile a moment longer." He yanked up my skirt and easily tore off my lace tong. "You need to remember who you really are."

Where everything had been drab and lifeless, he ignited a firestorm of dazzling colors. My body responded instantly, fiery need unfurling low in my abdomen.

He grabbed a handful of my hair and slid his hand between my legs. I moaned when his fingers delved between my already moist folds and found my clit.

Leaning over me, he whispered in my ear, "Shhh, we wouldn’t want everyone downstairs to hear what a naughty girl you really are."

The illicit idea was thrilling, but I bit my lip to keep myself quiet as he circled my tender nub, sending delicious sensations reverberating throughout my body. Even though I wasn’t ashamed of who I was or my desires, I really didn’t want to deal with my family’s reaction to it. Besides, I totally got off on secretly being a bad girl. And he knew it.

He abandoned my clit and I whimpered, arching my back to lift my backside higher, silently begging for more. But he eased a finger inside my tight sheath instead. I was so slick his easily moved inside me, massaging my inner walls perfectly. He added another finger, stretching me so wonderfully my legs trembled.

"Open your eyes."

I hadn’t realized I’d closed them until I heard his command. When I opened them, I meet his heated gaze in the mirror.

"There she is." His fingers focused on my G-spot, making me gasp. "My eager little cunt."

I was breathing hard, struggling to stay as silent as possible. The pleasure built quickly, my inner muscles tightening around his fingers. My hips were rocking back into him, always seeking more.

"This is who you really are, isn’t it?"

I nodded.

"You’re not a good girl at all, are you?"

With him driving me crazy with his fingers, I didn’t think I could keep my voice down if I spoke, so I just shook my head.

"Tell me what you are."

The man was the Devil himself. I could feel his hard cock pressing against my hip, so I knew he was getting off on making me show my true colors.

"Your filthy fucking slut," I hissed.

A wicked grin spread across his face. "That’s right. And what do you crave?"

I didn’t need to think about it. "Your cock and your come."

He slid his fingers from my cunt and a moan escaped before I could stop it. Mercifully, I heard the familiar rasp of his zipper, and then he shoved his cock deep inside me without much preamble.

Again, I bit my lip to stop myself from crying out from the intense pleasure.

Still gripping my hair, he tugged my head back. "Look at yourself."

I opened my eyes once more and took in my own reflection. Even in the dim light, I could see my flushed cheeks through my heavy-lidded gaze. I looked every bit the wanton slut I was. Only for him.

He slid almost all the way out of me, then slammed his hips forward, burying his cock deep. “They don’t know how gloriously dirty you can be.”

My gaze shifted, meeting his blue eyes filled with lusty appreciation. For me, all the nasty names and dirty talk weren’t about humiliation. It was about reveling in the hedonism and the thrill I got from shedding my good girl façade. Knowing that he loved bringing out my authentic self only amped up my arousal even more.

He rammed his hips into mine again. "They don’t know you’re Daddy’s dirty little fuck whore. Do they?"

I gasped—not because I was scandalized. Quite the contrary. The fact that he’d go there with my actual father downstairs drove me even more wild. Just to be clear, I never, ever had any sexual thoughts about my father. But my Daddy was a whole different matter altogether. It was one of the many forbidden games we played and we both got off on.

"Tell me." He emphasized the command by pulling on my hair.

"No."

"No, what?"

"They don’t know I’m Daddy’s nasty cunt."

Groaning, he gave me another hard thrust. "Mine."

"Yours."

At our core, this was who we were. Around those who wouldn’t understand, we maintained our carefully crafted disguises. But that only made moments like this—when we could be our depraved selves—all the sweeter.

There wasn’t much talking after that—just soft grunts, groans, pants, and moans. He set a brutal but heavenly rhythm, fucking me hard and fast. With every punishing thrust, my hips hit the edge of the dresser and his other hand tightened around my hip. There’d be marks I’d cherish later—along with the sweet ache in my cunt from his thorough possession.

The overwhelming pleasure and exquisite pain mixed and melded, driving me towards orgasm at breakneck speed. All the tension from being around my family completely evaporated—replaced by the building need to come. As I got closer, my cunt clenched repeatedly around his cock, my inner muscles urging him on.

For as long as possible, I held his ardent gaze in the mirror, our heavy breaths fogging the glass. He was everywhere—in me, around me, completely consuming me. And I loved it.

When I felt myself hurtling over the edge, I slapped a hand over my mouth to muffle the cry I knew I wouldn’t be able to control. As my orgasm tore through me, my body convulsing with pleasure, he released my hair so I collapsed onto the dresser.

Holding both of my hips in his unyielding grip, he gave me a few more fierce thrusts. As he joined me in blessed oblivion, I felt his cock jerking inside me and the warm flush of his come filling my cunt.

With his arms braced alongside mine, we stayed like that for a few precious moments until our breathing calmed. I was a boneless mass, entirely at ease for the first time all evening.

Eventually, he got up, eased out of me, and tucked himself back inside his pants.

Missing the intimate connection, I reluctantly pushed myself upright. As I took in my reflection in the mirror, I tried to fix the mess he’d made of my hair, but it was hopeless. I looked thoroughly fucked and I couldn’t help grinning.

He grinned back at me. "Now, we're going back down there." He tugged down my skirt and smacked my ass. "While my come is still dripping down your thighs, we'll say our goodbyes, then get in the car and go."

"To where?" It didn't really matter, but I was still curious.

"Wherever we’re free to be you and me."

Sounded like paradise.