Saturday, September 28, 2019

Me and My Friend (Smutathon 2019, Masturbation Monday #265, & Wicked Wednesday #383)

I hadn’t intended to write anything for the Wicked Wednesday "Piercing" prompt, because piercings really aren’t my thing. However, I fell down the YouTube rabbit hole—where one video leads to another, and another, etc. I happened upon the Dire Straits song “You and Your Friend” and this dirty idea popped into my head. Yes, I know the title isn’t proper grammar, but I did it intentionally to mimic the song title. Unfortunately, I didn’t get it done in time for last week's Wicked Wednesday, so now it’s an early Masturbation Monday, Wicked Wednesday, and Smutathon post.

If you don’t know anything about Smutathon, you can check it out here. It’s for a worthy cause!

Please also click on the badges to read all the other posts!

Hope you enjoy,

Ria ;)
Twitter: @RiaRestrepo

Me and My Friend
By Ria Restrepo
Copyright ©2019. All rights reserved.

We were sitting on the sofa, casually chatting, when he came home.

When he entered the living room and saw us, he stopped dead in his tracks. He looked from me, to my new friend, and back again.

Before he could ask, I said, “This is Kitty. We met in yoga class and got to talking.”

Kitty grinned and tossed her long blonde ponytail over her shoulder. “We have so much in common!”

He sat in a chair across from us. “Is that so.”

“While we were talking, I noticed something and asked her to help us out with one of your fantasies.”

His eyebrows rose, but he didn’t say anything.

“Show him, Kitty.”

She stuck out her tongue, proudly displaying her silver barbell tongue piercing.

His eyes widened and a slow smile spread across his face.

I wasn’t into piercings—other than the one set in my ears. However, I knew he was curious about receiving oral from someone with a tongue piercing. Since I didn’t plan on getting one anytime soon, Kitty seemed a reasonable alternative.

She was bisexual and in a committed relationship with a woman, but was allowed flings with men as long as it wasn’t serious. Not only was he curious about the pleasures a piercing could bring, but he also fantasized about me instructing another woman on how to suck his cock. When the idea occurred to me, I talked it over with Kitty and she was eager to play.

I got up and stripped off my yoga pants and sports bra, but left on my panties. “I told Kitty about your amazing cock and how much I love sucking it.”

Kitty followed my lead, stripping down to pink polka dot panties and baring her small perky tits. “Yeah, she promised to teach what you like.”

As I walked over to him, he gave me a pointed look. “Are you sure about this?”

He knew I wasn’t into sharing, but this was something I thought I could live with.

Smiling, I knelt at his feet. “Just this once.”

“Well, if you’re really sure,” he said, pulling off his T-shirt and tossing it aside, “I’m all yours, dirty girl.”

Nibbling on my lower lip, I slid my hands up his legs until I felt his cock beneath the denim. He was firming up quickly and I traced his length, stroking him through his softly worn jeans. I held his gaze, watching the heat build in his eyes and his eyelids getting heavier.

Kitty joined me, kneeling in front of him as I unfastened his jeans and slowly lowered his zipper.

He lifted his hips so we could pull off his jeans and boxer briefs in one go. His cock bobbed out completely hard and ready for action. With his clothes joining ours, he shifted down towards the edge of his seat and spread his legs wide apart.

Seeing him aroused and entirely available to my lascivious intentions never failed to inspire my ever-smoldering desire. An enticing warmth unfurled low in my belly and a needy ache in my sex made me squirm as I knelt before him. His lips curved into a sexy grin as he looked down at me, not missing anything.

Leaning forward, I stroked my fingers up his shaft. “I like to lick the underside, then take the head in my mouth and just lightly suck on it.”

I followed the path of my fingers with my tongue, teasing the thick vein from base to tip. I circled the head before wrapping my lips around it and softly sucking it just like I’d described.

He groaned and threaded his fingers through my hair, clasping a handful while I massaged the sensitive spot beneath the head with the flat of my tongue.

I released him long enough to say, “After that, I take him nice and deep.”

His grip on my hair tightened as I sucked him into my mouth until he nudged the back of my throat. I did it a few more times, loving the taste of him. I wanted to keep sucking while I played with my horny cunt, but that wasn’t the point of this particular scene. This was all about his pleasure.

Reluctantly, I relinquished his cock and he released my hair.

“Go on,” I said, motioning to Kitty. “You give it a try.”

She mimicked what I’d done, but I knew her piercing was having the desired effect by the way his chest heaved. I watched her mouth working as she concentrated her attention on the head of his cock.


“Feel good?”

His burning blue eyes met mine. “Fuck yeah.”

Returning my attention to Kitty, I saw her smiling at me around his cock.

“Now take him all the way in your mouth,” I told her.

She slid her mouth down, but only took about half of him. This had all been prearranged. She knew just what to do.

“No, you have to take him deeper.”

I took hold of her ponytail and urged her to swallow all of him until she made a gagging sound. I let her back up and pushed her back down again, fucking him with her face—again and again.

He moaned. “You’re such a good little fuckwhore.”

I knew the dirty compliment was directed towards me and grinned up at him.

Even though this scene was primarily for his benefit, I found the illicitness of the whole thing surprisingly hot. My panties were sopping wet and my clit throbbed in time with my pounding heartbeat.

Kitty was getting off on it, too. She had her hand down inside her panties, playing with her pussy while she sucked him off.

Heh…Kitty was playing with her pussy.

His loud groan snapped me out of my amusing thought. “I’m going to come any fucking second.”

I gently pulled Kitty’s head back and she released his cock with a wet smacking sound.

His cock was thoroughly coated in saliva and looked painfully hard. I took him in my tight grip and jacked him off hard and fast, the tip of his cock pointed right at Kitty’s face.

Anticipating what was coming, she furiously rubbed her clit. Her head was tilted back, her eyes closed and her mouth slightly open. I was only holding her ponytail. She was lost in her own pleasure.


The first hard blast of spunk fell across her face and into her hair. She flinched slightly, but was quickly overcome by her own orgasm, crying out in pleasure as several more ropes of come decorated her face.

I released my hold on her hair and leaned forward to lap up the last drops I milked from his cock.

After we took a picture of Kitty’s messy facial for posterity, I helped her clean up and she went home.

Once she left, he grabbed my arm and pulled me towards the bedroom.

“Am I in trouble?”

“No, I’m going to get one of the other little friends you keep in your night table and make you come until you beg for mercy. Then, I’m going to come all over your face. Or tits. Or ass. I haven’t made up my mind yet.”

Sounded like a brilliant plan to me.

Monday, September 23, 2019

Even Though (Masturbation Monday #264 & Friday Flash #67)

Inspired by the Friday Flash and Masturbation Monday prompts, this is a rare sequel to “That Touch of Arrogance.” However, I think it also works on its own.

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

Hope you enjoy,

Ria ;)
Twitter: @RiaRestrepo

Even Though
By Ria Restrepo
Copyright ©2019. All rights reserved.

Just inside his apartment, we were locked in a passionate embrace, his body pinning mine to the door. Moaning as he fiercely reclaimed my mouth, I rocked my hips against his obvious erection.

Much to my frustration, he pulled away, breathing heavily. “So, I’m forgiven?”

“As long as you have a damn good reason for leaving the way you did.”

“I really do.”

“Good.” I slipped past him and headed for the bedroom. “You can tell me later.”


“Yes.” I turned around and smiled at his confused expression. “Right now, I need you to fuck me. Hard.”

“Just like that?”

“Yes.” I lowered one spaghetti strap, then the other, and let my dress slither down my body until it pooled on the floor. “I missed you. Desperately.”

His eyebrows rose when he saw my red lacy underwear. “You sure you weren’t planning to pick up a guy tonight?”

I grinned. “You know, the whole jealousy thing is hot.”

He frowned. “That’s not an answer.”

I rolled my eyes. “If I tell you, you’re going to think I’m weird.”

“Try me.”

“My mind wandered while I was getting dressed. A wave of desire washed over me and I felt compelled to wear something sexy. For you.”

“You knew I’d show up?”

“No, but I wanted to hold on to that feeling.”

His gaze followed my hands as I slid them over my body from shoulders to hips.

“I thought I’d come home and strip out of the dress.” I reached around, unfastened my bra, and tossed it aside. “Just like you always want, I’d lose the fucking bra, too.”

His heavy-lidded eyes met mine, then ogled my tits.

“I’d planned to leave my panties on.” I stroked my hand down my stomach and cupped my lace-covered pussy. “I knew I’d be wet from thinking about you all night.”

I slipped my fingers beneath the crotch and delved between my creamy slit. Avoiding my tender nub for the moment, I got my fingers thoroughly coated in my juices, then held them up for him to see.

He groaned, but stayed a few feet away, just watching me. I could sense the tension building in him, though—like a coiled snake poised to strike.

I returned my hand to my cunt, pressing the soaked lace into my folds. While I used the wet fabric to tease my clit, I cupped my breast with my other hand and pinched my nipple.

The sensations crashing through me, I moaned as my head fell back. I furiously frigged my clit and squeezed my nipples painful until I was vibrating with pleasure—oh so close to coming.

He made a deep growling sound. Then I was hanging upside down over his shoulder as he charged into the bedroom.

It was a hard and fast reclaiming, but highly satisfying.

Still panting, he looked down at me. “Why did you wait for me?”

I brushed a lock of silver hair from his face. “Because I love you…even though.”

Monday, September 16, 2019

Waiting (Masturbation Monday #263 & Wicked Wednesday #381)

When I saw the Wicked Wednesday “Frigid” prompt, this idea came to me. There’s also a little Masturbation Monday thrown in. It’s a slow build and more romantic than erotic, but sometimes my writing swings that way. So, you’ve been warned. Actually, it could be the backstory to my flash fiction story from last week—“That Touch of Arrogance.”

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

Hope you enjoy,

Ria :)
Twitter: @RiaRestrepo

By Ria Restrepo
Copyright ©2019. All rights reserved.

Occasionally guys will hit on me, but I efficiently send them on their way. I generally try to put out a “not interested” vibe to avoid the whole awkward situation. Many guys might think I’m frigid—which is ironic.

I might appear to be cold and aloof, but I’m a raging river of molten desire. I’m just waiting for the man who ignites my flame like no one I’ve ever known.

I’ve always been waiting for him—even before I knew he existed.

I don’t know why he left me the way he did. At first, I was angry and swore I was done—really done this time. It wasn’t the first he’d disappeared. However much he enjoyed our contact, I’d gotten the impression that he also regretted it.

Even so, when he was around, everything was golden. The passionate intensity that sparked between us was unlike anything I’d ever experienced before. It was irresistible and all-consuming. We had so much in common—and not just sexually. If it had been just cheap desire, it wouldn’t have killed me every time he said goodbye.

Of course, I never let him know how strongly I felt. I thought if I kept things casual—if I acted like his comings and goings didn’t bother me—that he’d relax about spending time with me. I’d hoped that if he knew I didn’t have any expectations, that he wouldn’t keep running off.

During his absences, I tried finding the same magic with someone else. It was never anything but momentary fun and easily forgotten. When he reappeared, I dropped everything and his pleasure became my priority again.

I did tell him about the others, hoping it would reinforce my supposedly casual attitude. I’m sure he believed that I sold my loving like Christmas cards, but that was far from the truth. He might be surprised how few other guys there were. Maybe I also hoped he’d get jealous. Sometimes I thought he might be.

After I told him about another guy, his passion took a more feral tone. Whether it was true or not, I imagined he cared enough to feel a need to reassert his claim. I won’t lie, the possessiveness made me incredibly hot. But then, he’d disappear again and I assumed my flights of fancy got the better of me.

I know what you’re thinking: “Get off the rollercoaster, girl. Just cut the guy loose.”

Believe me, I tried.

When my life became impossibly messy—not because of him—I did a disappearing act of my own. I wasn’t trying to punish him or hurt him. I really didn’t think I mattered enough for him to care all that much. But I was in a bad place and I didn’t have anything left to give. So I let him go.

Over the years, I regretted that he might think it was somehow his fault. That I was rejecting him. But that wasn’t the case at all.

Again, you’re probably thinking, “How many times did he do the same thing to you? Screw him!”

Nothing in my life is ever that simple. Nothing is ever black and white. He had his reasons and I understood them. I even respected him for them. Yeah, I know how messed up that sounds. So, even though I hated his leaving, I couldn’t really be angry at him for it.

Things gradually got better for me. I still have loads of issues, but I’m working on them. Thanks to the internet, I was able to check in on him from time to time. I saw he was still doing what he loved, and seemed to be happy and well.

However, I didn’t give him more than a cursory look. Like a person on a diet, I tried to avoid temptation. He was the most decadent kind—a rich and gooey slice of chocolate cake. Devil’s food, all the way, with mocha frosting and dark chocolate ganache.

Then one day, he sent me a message. I don’t know how or when he found me. To be honest, I may have left a few breadcrumbs, but I never thought he’d actually track me down. Although I was thrilled to hear from him, I was hesitant. I didn’t know if he was just being friendly or if he wanted more.

Before I knew it, we were right back where we were—except it was a little different. Oh, it was as hot and heavy as ever, maybe even more so. This time, though, I felt he’d found some sense of peace with our relationship—such that it was.

With him back in my life, I dove in and looked more closely at past events. Maybe I’d been willfully blind because I didn’t want to be disappointed.

A very different picture started forming. One in which I did matter to him and that he’d missed me—probably more than I knew. That changed a lot of things for me, but it still wasn’t smooth sailing. He began pulling away again and I didn’t know why.

I gave him space, but it only got worse. Was he just busy? Was he tired of me? Had I stepped too far outside the box he liked to keep me in? I didn’t know. Then, out of the blue, he completely cut me off—without a word.

Alright, I know you’re thinking, “You’re better off without him.”

I really don’t believe that. Despite all the angst and uncertainty, I come alive when he’s around. I’m my truest self. He lights a fire in me like no one else can. I miss him with every breath I take.

How did I go from being angry to having faith that he would come back to me? As much as I tried to push him from my mind and focus on my own life, I just couldn’t. The whole thing bothered me—and not because he dumped me again.

It’s hard to explain, but it all just doesn’t make sense. The way he acted when we reconnected, all the stuff I came to realize, then the abrupt disconnection. Other things are different too. Even from afar, I know he’s still around, but not as much. It feels like he’s keeping a low profile for some reason.

With every ounce of my being, I know something is going on—something he either doesn’t want me to know or can’t tell me for some reason. But he’s clearly keeping me away from it. There have been hints, though, that I shouldn’t give up on him. Maybe I’m seeing what I want to see, but I’m willing to wait to finally hear his side of the story. For however long it takes.

Late at night, I wonder if he can feel me. If he knows how much I miss him and crave his touch. As bizarre as it sounds, I still feel the connection between us—maybe stronger than ever. When I run my hands over my body, I imagine they’re his. Or that he’s watching.

In my head, I hear him telling me to pinch my nipples harder. As the pleasure ripples through me, I hope he feels it. I want him to know how he ignites my desire and makes me so very wet.

I can almost hear his warm voice urging me to slip my fingers between my drenched slit. I circle my clit, my breathing getting faster as my arousal builds. Then I slip my fingers lower, filling my tight cunt and getting them coated in my juices. I know he’d want me to paint my cream all over my fat nipples, so I do.

Alone in my bed, I wonder if he’d rather watch my wanton display, or if he’d lick the cunt juice from my nipples. Maybe he’d lightly bite them, making me writhe and moan from the pleasure-pain.

Part of me wants him to watch while he strokes his cock. I miss watching him jerk off. I can picture it so easily and it gets me even hotter. I love seeing his strong hand wrapped around his shaft, gripping it firmly as he moves his hand from the base to the glistening head.

I can conjure his lust-roughened voice saying, “Stick your finger in your filthy slut asshole.”

And I eagerly obey, just for him, pushing my slick middle finger in my forbidden fuckhole. Because I know it’s what he’d want, I finger-fuck my ass while my thumb madly works my clit.

Silently, I beg him to cover my tits in his thick spunk. Imagining him doing just that sends me careening over the edge. I call out his name as an intense orgasm rips through me, leaving me shattered—but still empty, because he’s not there. As I drift off to sleep, I hope he felt me come for him, and that I see him in my dreams.

So, I’m waiting for him to return. Waiting forever maybe, but hopefully not. Because I love him. And I need him. It’s just that simple.

Anaïs Nin once wrote:

Do not seek the because—in love there is no because, no reason, no explanation, no solutions.

And so I burn only for him and I wait…

Tuesday, September 10, 2019

That Touch of Arrogance (Masturbation Monday #262, Wicked Wednesday #380, & Friday Flash #65)

While trying to think of something for the Friday Flash prompt that I haven’t already done, I came up with this idea. Fortunately, it also works for the Wicked Wednesday “Red” prompt. The title came to me early on and is a play on the Doris Day and Cary Grant movie That Touch of Mink.

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

Hope you enjoy,

Ria ;)
Twitter: @RiaRestrepo

That Touch of Arrogance
By Ria Restrepo
Copyright ©2019. All rights reserved.

Ruby red lipstick was poised at my lips when I saw the reflection of the door behind me open. I should have been surprised when he walked in, but I wasn’t. I knew he’d return eventually.

His gaze found mine in the mirror and his lips slowly curved into a cocky grin. As he locked the ladies’ room door behind him, I carefully applied the bright red color.

“You won’t be wearing that long.” The brash statement delivered in his warm, seductive voice ignited my desire like always.

Putting the lipstick away, I turned to face him. “What are you doing here?”

“I got tired of waiting for you to come to me.”

“Why would I have done that?”

“I left you enough hints.”

“I told you long ago I wouldn’t just show up without talking to you first. And considering how you left things…”

“So you’re pissed.”

“Only mildly annoyed…now.”

“And you’re on the prowl tonight to get back at me.”

“No, I’m having a rare night out with friends.”

He took in my slinky dress. “Wearing that.”

“I was in a red kind of mood.”

“You’re not here to pick up guys?”

“No, I’m kinda stuck on this horny rocker dude.”

The smug smile returned. “Even though you’re annoyed.”

“I can be irritated with you and still love you.”

His blue eyes blazing, he took a step towards me. “Say it again.”

“You drive me crazy in every way imaginable.”

He stalked closer. “Good to know, but I meant the l-word.”

“I think I’ve bled enough without any indication you return my feelings.”

A breath away, he traced the tip of his nose down the length of mine. “I’ve said I love you many times.”

“In songs that could have been for anyone.”

“They were for you. Always you.”

“And I was supposed to take it on faith I wasn’t just hearing what I wanted to hear?”

“Okay, let me make myself perfectly clear.”

He lifted me up onto the vanity, then moved between my legs. His gaze held mine as he brought my hand up to his mouth and kissed my palm.

“This belongs to you.” He put my hand on his chest so I could feel his heart pounding.

“And you’re entirely responsible for this.” He guided my other hand down to the blatant erection in his jeans.

“In that case,” I said, taking his hand and placing it over my own racing heart, “this has been yours since the beginning.”

Then I slid his other hand up my dress and beneath my lacy panties so he could feel my slick folds. “My cunt is yours too, because no one else ever made it this wet.”

Someone pounded on the door, but his fingers boldly delved between my slit. “Let’s get out of here and continue this in a bed.”

I gasped as he circled my clit. “But my friends…”

“I know you’d rather come home with me.”

Luckily, I also loved that touch of arrogance.

Wednesday, September 4, 2019

In the Flesh (Wicked Wednesday #379)

When I saw the Wicked Wednesday “skin” prompt, I immediately thought “in the flesh” for some reason. That became my title and the story developed from there. It was also somewhat inspired by the enticing Masturbation Monday picture. However, I temporarily relocated to Tennessee this week due to Hurricane Dorian and was fighting off a cold. I haven’t had a cold in a few years, so of course when I was dealing with a hurricane was a great time to come down with one. (Heavy on the sarcasm there.) Anyway, I didn’t get this story finished as soon as I would have liked, but better late than never.

Oh, and yes, the first line is a nod to one of my favorite Jane Austen books, Pride and Prejudice. I also know it’s a little long. I’ll happily take the spanking.

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

Hope you enjoy,

Ria ;)
Twitter: @RiaRestrepo

In the Flesh
By Ria Restrepo
Copyright ©2019. All rights reserved.

It’s a truth universally acknowledged that long-distance relationships are tough to sustain—for many reasons. We’d had our ups and downs. Sometimes, his fault. Sometimes, my fault. But the connection between us was strong and we’d managed to navigate a sea of troubled waters.

That didn’t mean I didn’t miss him every day. He was never far from my thoughts and I constantly craved his touch. There were moments when my mind wandered off on some erotic musing—featuring him, of course—and a burst of warm desire would erupt low in my abdomen. It wasn’t as frustrating as you might imagine—the arousal he inspired even from a distance. It was a blessing, my secret treasure.

In this day and age, technology made it easier to stay connected. No, we couldn’t touch, but we sent naughty messages back and forth, had dirty phone conversations, and cyber sex sessions that left me wet and very happy.

I tried to send him something every day to let him know he was on my mind—even if it was just a song that reminded me of him. It all helped to bridge the miles between us, but I couldn’t wait to be with him in the flesh.

The day finally arrived when I flew up to see him and he met me at the airport. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t have stopped the ridiculous smile from spreading across my face at the sight of him.

The first touch after so long was electric. As his hand took mine, his rough fingertips skimmed over my palm, sending shivers of pleasure rippling over my skin. He twined his fingers with mine and pulled me close so my body was flush with his.

Grinning down at me, he boldly slid his other hand over my ass—right there in front of God and everyone. “Are you wearing them?”

I knew exactly what he meant. “Yes.”

A few days before, I put on a sheer black thong he sent me. During an intense video chat, I fingered my pussy beneath the fine material while I told him what a filthy fuckslut I wanted to be for him. At his request, I overnighted the drenched panties to him.

The next day, I watched as he wrapped my used panties around his hard cock and slid them up and down his shaft. There was something irresistibly erotic about the contrast between the inherently feminine article and his rampant male flesh.

While he pleasured himself, he told me all the wicked things he planned to do when he got his hands on me. As he shot a thick load of come in the crotch of my panties, I came all over my fingers once again.

He sent the doubly soiled panties back to me in enough time for my flight out the next day. They came with instructions that I was to wear them to meet him, but I wasn’t allowed to play with myself until he said otherwise. It really tested my willpower to obey that command.

The panties hadn’t been curing long enough to get funky, but they were quite fragrant with our combined juices. At first, the crotch was a little stiff, but my renewed arousal soon had them moist again. I squirmed in my seat the entire flight, relishing the slick, sticky mess against my smooth pussy lips.

Between that and my anticipation of seeing him, there was a persistent thrumming in my cunt that begged for relief. But I was a good girl and resisted the urge to duck into the lavatory and get myself off.

The expression on his handsome face gradually transformed into a sterner one I knew all too well and a shot of adrenaline raced through my veins. “Did you play with yourself?”

“No, I promise.”

His eyebrows lowered, he stared at me for a long moment.

Even though I’d told the truth, it took everything I had not to fidget beneath his penetrating gaze.

Finally, his face softened and his smile returned. “Good girl.”

Knowing that I’d pleased him just amplified the needy ache in my cunt. As we walked through the airport, the slight friction of my thighs moving together gave me very little relief. I was so wet my panties clung to my pussy like a second skin.

Once in the car and on the way to his apartment, he glanced over at me. “Push up your skirt.”

I obeyed without hesitation.

“Spread your legs apart.”

Again, I did as I was told, shifting my legs apart a couple of inches.

The corner of his mouth curved up. “Wider.”

I spread them as far apart as I could.

At the first opportunity he could, he looked down at my crotch. “Hmmm, those look very wet. Are you sure you didn’t get that greedy slut cunt off?”

“Yes. I really want to, but I didn’t.”

His eyes on the road, he reached over and stroked his fingers along my panty-covered slit. I bit back a moan as he pressed the soaked material between my pussy lips, lightly teasing my clit. “Oh yeah, you’re quite the horny little girl, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” I hissed.

“We’ll have to do something about that—since you obeyed me so well.” Belying his words, he pulled his hand away, leaving me quivering in lust. When I opened my mouth to protest, he silenced me with one of his messy fingers. “When we get there. I have something very specific in mind.”

I wanted to whine and beg, but I resisted. As much as I wanted to come right then and there, I didn’t want to disappoint him. I was also curious about what he had in mind.

When we finally got to his apartment, he calmly led me inside. As soon as the door was shut and locked, he pinned me up against the nearest wall and claimed my mouth in a fierce kiss. I melted against him, my tongue tangling with his. I did moan when I felt his erection nudging my belly and rocked my hips along his length.

Breathing hard, he pulled back and took hold of my chin. “You’ve led me on a merry chase, babygirl. Now it’s time to take what’s mine.”

All I could do was jerk my head up and down in eager agreement.


On shaky legs, I followed him into the bedroom. He stripped off his shirt and toed off his shoes, then sprawled out in the center of the bed, still wearing his jeans. His head propped up on a couple of pillows, he looked at me standing in the doorway and crooked his finger at me.

“Stand at the edge of the bed.”

I did as I was told and awaited further instruction.

“Lift up your skirt again.”

I pulled the snug material up to my waist, my drenched pussy barely concealed behind the sheer thong.

“Turn around and bend over.”

Without hesitation, I followed his instructions, showing off the narrow strip of fabric between my ass cheeks.

“Pull the thong aside and show me that tight little asshole.”

His groan when I complied made a fresh wave of cream flood my cunt.

“Fuck, that’s hot.” After a moment, he cleared his throat. “Now, stand up and turn around.”

My heart pounding with building excitement, I straightened and faced him once more.

“Unbutton your blouse.” I went to untuck it from my skirt. “No, leave it like that. Just open it to your waist.”

One button at a time, I revealed my matching sheer black bra. I was sure my large taut nipples were easily visible.

“Pull down the cups.”

As I exposed one side, then the other, his gaze heated, his eyelids heavy with lust.

“Very nice.” His hungry expression contradicted his simple compliment. He crooked his finger at me again. “Climb up here.”

My gaze locked with his, I got up on the bed and crawled up his body until we were face to face.

“Sit up on only your knees.”

Carefully, I pushed up so I was kneeling over him.

Reaching up, he cupped my tits in his hands. He took his time squeezing and fondling them, testing their weight. My breathing quickened and the ache in my sex became a steady demanding beat. When he pinched my nipples between his fingers, I gasped, a jolt of pleasure-pain ricocheting throughout my body.

My hips rocked forward of their own accord, silently begging for the attention I so desperately craved. I did actually whimper when he abandoned my tits, but he thankfully took pity on me.

“Straddle my face and grab onto the headboard.”

I was a bit surprised by the command, but too horny to question it. Once I was in position, he pulled me lower so he could nuzzle my pussy through my wet panties. I moaned when his nose nudged my swollen clit, the sensation rocking me to the core. I tightened my hold on the headboard to keep myself upright.

“Mmmm, you smell so fucking good—like my dirty little come slut.”

As he continued teasing me, I heard the rasp of his zipper and knew he was taking out his cock. I wanted to see him stroking it like I had so many times before, but I had to satisfy myself with imagining the sight of his hand wrapped around his dick.

Reading my mind, he said, “Just close your eyes and feel me.”

Apparently, he was as eager as I was to move things along. With his free hand, he pushed the crotch of my panties aside and I felt the exquisite pleasure of his tongue on my clit. My legs shook and every muscle tensed as I struggled to maintain my position.

Despite my seemingly dominate posture, we both knew who was in control. I was his naughty plaything to use however he liked. In that moment, he clearly wanted to feast on my cunt and make me kneel over him, eagerly offering myself to him like the wanton creature we both knew I was. Only for him.

I trembled as he lashed my clit with his tongue. He alternated between circling and sucking the tender nub, creating heavenly sensations that reverberated everywhere. The pleasure built hard and fast, pushing me closer and closer to orgasm.

He pulled back long enough to say, “Come for me, dirty girl.” Then he slid a finger inside me and resumed his sweet assault on my clit.

I couldn’t have stopped it if I tried—especially not when he curved his finger and found the spot that sent me soaring over the edge. As the waves of bliss overtook me, my inner muscles clenching around his finger, I barely managed not to collapse on top of him. I was still trembling from the aftershocks when he swiftly rolled me over and pinned me to the mattress.

Hovering over me, his mouth slick from my juices and his eyes burning blue fire, he grinned down at me. “Now it’s my turn. And for that, I want you completely naked—skin on skin.”

That sounded just fine by me.

Much later, with a fresh load of his come coating my thighs, we lay together, wonderfully spent and serene.

“This has to end,” he murmured against my shoulder.

My mind immediately went to the bad place and my heart pounded wildly.

His arms tightened around me. “I need you here all the time.”

Calming once again, I admitted, “I need you too. We’ll find a way.”

I didn’t know how and I didn’t know when, but I had faith there’d be a time nothing kept us apart.

Until then, I couldn’t wait until the next time we were together in the flesh.