“What the fuck am I doing?” I think as he thrusts his huge cock deep into my throat. Sure, I’ve done some crazy shit before but nothing like this. I’ve only know him about a month, I know he’s got me “on the side” and yet I can’t help myself. He’s addictive. As drawn to the vodka bottle as he is, I’m drawn to him.
It all started innocently enough, or at least I thought. We met more than a year ago, having a brief interaction at work – certainly not anything worth mentioning. At the time I thought he was cute but beyond that, didn’t really give him a second thought. Fast forward a year later, and we’re communicating once again on a project I’m working on. Starts innocently enough, a few emails back and forth on the project, then a few turning more personal and provocative, and before I know it, I’m having a drink with him after work. One drink turns into two, two turn into three and before I know it my inhibitions are thrown to the wind and I’m making out with him at the bar. I’m not talking about a few innocent kisses; I’m talking about the kind of kisses that rock my core, hardening my nipples, soaking my panties, leaving me squirming on my barstool. The bartender is gawking at us as are frat boys seated behind him. I suspect they’re envious.
But let me fast forward again because it’s what I’m doing right now that is both shocking the shit out of me and scaring the hell out of me all at the same time, and yet, I can’t stop it; in fact, I’m asking him for more. Back to him thrusting his huge cock deep into my throat…
Believe it or not, we went to bed together last night and nothing happened. Largely due to the considerable quantity of alcohol consumed on both parts and because of a way too serious conversation too late in the evening. We awoke, and despite a little sucking of his cock, not much else happened. But now, here I am a few hours later, gagging on his cock, my eyes watering, and my appetite for his jizz still ravenous.
I’ve never had sex like this before. I’m helpless. Oh sure, it’s my place and he doesn’t have me tied down and I suspect that I could get out of bed if I really tried. But I don’t want to. And it’s not enough that I suck his cock; I need him to fuck my face hard and gag me with it. It’s not enough that he spanks my ass; I want welts on it. It’s not enough that he sucks my tits; I want my nipples bitten so hard that I know it’s going to be painful to put a bra on later. But this isn’t me. At least it’s not the me I’m familiar with. I’m a good girl. Not that all my sex has been “vanilla.” But this is out of control, way out of control. I’ve never wanted to be treated like such a fucking filthy whore before. And it’s scaring me but I can’t stop myself.
He slaps me across the face, “You know I’m control here, right? You know you’ll get what I think you deserve, not what you want. Do you understand?” Meekly I look up and croak out a sad little “yes.” I’ve already had my black lace panties yanked deep into my crack, my ass spanked, my nipples pinched and twisted, my throat raped. After sucking his thick cock, I begged him to spank me again. He climbed over me, his ass resting on my back, my face buried in a pillow. He asked me if I was ready, and although I thought I was, I wasn’t. His hand came down hard, stinging my left cheek. I yelped and squirmed under him. “Don’t move!” he tells me as his hand now makes contact with the right. I’ve never been struck so hard before, the pain is exquisite. He firmly spanks my ass again and again, each hit harder than the last. It’s at the point that I can’t take it anymore. “Please, stop.” My voice is weak. I wonder if he’s even heard me. But he does, and he stops. He rubs my ass cheeks as if doing so will erase some of the pain. Before he repositions himself on the bed, he takes a closer look at my ass. There are now two distinct markings, not handprints, not red spots, but straight lines there on my left cheek. He examines them carefully, running a finger along the length of each. He tells me about them and tells me he can feel the heat of his spankings on my ass. He tells me he thinks I should be okay.
I can’t move. I’m exhausted. There are tears streaming down my face, remnants of last night’s black mascara running down my cheek. He can tell I’ve been to the edge. He can tell I’m scared. He knows I’ve not done this before. And he knows that despite my request to stop, despite the tears, that I’m enjoying it. Gently, he lifts my head in his hands and tells me to put my head on his thigh and take a rest. I’m grateful for the break. I don’t know how much more I could have taken. He rubs my head with his left hand while his right hand stokes his cock – the cock that he’s denied my cunt since we’ve met. I begin to sob. I’m so fucked up in my head right now. What am I doing? Why does he have such a draw for me? I know he’s bad. I know he’s fucking at least one other woman. I know he’s a drunk. I know he won’t have it any other way than complete domination. And yet, I can’t get enough of him. Not only am I willing to allow the domination, I crave it. But why? I’m a good girl. I don’t do things like this. I don’t know who it is that I become when I’m with him. I lose myself. I become some nasty cock-craving sex slut who can’t get enough. I want to be his whore. He’s squeezed my neck in his hands and told me he can hurt me. That scared me as I know he can. The question is, would he? I don’t think so but I am taking a chance here. And I know that if I were smart, I’d get over him, get away from him. But I can’t. Quite the contrary. I’m drawn like a month to a flame.
After a few minutes of rest, he strongly suggests to me that I’d like to suck his cock again and he’s right. Although it’s soft he tells me he’ll get hard when he wants to and he shoves my head back to his crotch. I take him in my mouth. It’s easy to do when he’s soft. Within a few minutes he’s rock hard again and he’s ramming it down my throat. It’s difficult to take him right now, he’s thick and long and his position on the bed is making it really difficult for me to take him as deeply as I know he wants me to. Wanting to please him, I ask if he can point his cock downward so that I can take him deeper. While he’s in charge, and constantly reminds of this, he allows me the readjustment. “Open wide and stick out your tongue.” I do as I’m told and I’m gagging on his girth in no time at all. His hand holds my head firm only his cock. I can’t move, I can’t breathe, I can’t see anything other than his cock plowing its way in and out of my hungry mouth. A few pumps later, he pulls out slowly, and I stare at the string of saliva connecting my mouth to the purple head of his cock. He tells me he thinks I need a break. “Gee, ya think?” I wonder to myself, “What gave you a clue, the constant gagging? The watery eyes you’re now staring into with an intensity that seems almost demonic?” Knowing better, I say nothing aloud, but rather, humbly nod my head in agreement.
He allows me a few minutes to recover and I wonder what’s in store for me next. I know what I want but I also know he won’t give me the load of cum that I’ve been craving for more than a month now. I haven’t proven myself deserving enough I suppose. It’s out of my control as he likes to remind me constantly. Feeling a bit bold, I decide to make a request. I know he’s still withholding the sweet sensation of his cock buried in my cunt, but I need to feel something down there. My fingers working my clit just aren’t doing it. I ask him, “Can you spank my pussy?” This is something I’ve never experienced before and I’m surprised to hear the words coming from my mouth, but they are, loud and clear. He looks at me for a good minute or so before replying. I’m not sure if I surprised him or not. He knows that I’m willing to do all kinds of nasty things for him, with him so maybe I haven’t. Maybe the hesitation is just him deciding if I’m deserving enough of having my request realized. He climbs out of bed, stares at me intently and says “I’ll do that for you but you have to understand that once I do, you’re going to have to get your lazy ass out of bed and take me home. There will be nothing more after that. Do you understand?” Eagerly, I nod my head to indicate that I do. “You’re also going to have to do just as I say. Your panties will stay on. I want you to roll onto your back, hold your legs up in the air, spread so wide that your hips hurt, and I want your knees locked. Legs straight and wide the whole time. Got it?” I nod before assuming the position on my back. He grabs my legs, yanks them up, pushes them wide and jams a hand against each knee cap to lock it into position. My panties are soaked and I want to feel the sting of his hand against my swollen clit but I know better than to ask. In fact, I’m afraid that if I do, he won’t spank me at all. I look at him and he’s in his zone. He’s not the nice, cute guy from the office anymore. He’s not the adorable drunk anymore either. He’s not the sweet guy who plays with my hair and kisses my bare shoulders while I’m driving. Nope, he’s none of things. Just like me, he’s someone else completely different now. That possessive look is back in his eyes. His intensity scares me. His breathing and movements are controlled, even calculated. He yanks a leg back into position, “I said keep your legs straight bitch!” I inhale deeply as I watch him raise his hand, his look intensifying, and I cringe and his hand comes down hard on cunt. The panties do nothing to soften the blow and the sting is incredible. He grabs my ankles and pushes my legs wide again and before I know it, I feel another hot strike to my dripping cunt…