The one serious wish I would make for myself, is that I would be a confident person. Not to be self conscious or have any insecurities. Not to an arrogant point, of course. But definitely confident. I can be assertive, I can face challenges head on, I can stride into a room and bluff it out that I am confident. But as for what’s going on inside… I don’t let many people see that. The weak, self-doubting, insecure side. Oh dear, that’s not very fun either.
My body surrendered to the need and I luxuriated in the sinful feeling of a lazy self-fuck, my pussy slowly swallowing every part of the gently widening rabbit shaft. My labia, slick with cunt drool and lube, snug to the sides of this invader and the feel of them submitted to allow entry. A set of shivers came over me as I slowly slid the rabbit home.
The night was spent shifting in steamy, torrid dreams of debauchery and sex. As I lay and ponder on nothing much at all, I realise the sensations of my body. My clit feels like its been expertly strummed for hours, aching, throbbing and pulsing so hard. In reality it hasn't been touched at all. Yet. Remnants of dreams filter through my consciousness, bodies entwined, the feeling of dreamed orgasms, the taste of my lover on my lips and the feel of them pervading and invading me all at once.
I couldn't wait to give him my special welcome home. He is lounging on the sofa when I arrive. Dozing after his busy activities. It’s evening and he is alone there. Creeping in, careful to not make a sound, I tip toe up, bare feet on the carpet aiding the stealthy motion.
That followed by his nasty words, teasing fingers, and the plug in her ass made her crazed. She writhed on the bed as much as her bindings would allow, tossing her head, causing the blindfold to slip from her eyes, whimpering, then crying out in agony and ecstasy, fighting the need to cum. It was a losing battle but still she fought, she had to: cumming wasn’t allowed. To make matters worse, Nicholas kept up a stream of dirty talk as he paddled her backside, right cheek, left cheek, down to the tops of her thighs, then right in the middle of her ass again, the nasty naughties he hissed priming her cunt like a pump.
The spotlight centred on my naked, kneeling body is bright enough to just reveal the dark forms stood in a circle surrounding me. I feel the men's presence, rather than see them; I'm seeing the scene through my mind's eye in any case, with my eyes squeezed tightly closed, blocking out reality, even while it commands my full sensory attention.
Would you like to kneel, by my feet? Would you like to open your mouth wide, ready to receive? Would you keep your eyes obediently turned downwards, never raising above the level of my knee? Would you let the hot ash burn into your tongue, knowing you suffer for my pleasure?
A stool scraped the bathroom floor and she heard him settle on the milking stool next to the tub, but she refused to open her eyes. Bottles clanked and new scents competed in the steamy air. She gasped when a familiar hand stroked the tender skin of her stomach. Soap slid over her body and she sighed from the pleasure of the contact. He washed her with a soft touch, tenderly soaping every inch of her skin except for the one place where she wanted it most. Her tits throbbed unbearably and she whimpered at the intensity of the feeling. “Poor dear.” Rumpelstiltskin chuckled. “A little sore today, are we?” “Please.” She arched towards him, but he pulled away. Her eyes snapped open and she saw herself in the mirror. Milk was streaming out of her nipples, staining the water with their creamy elixir.
The Woman took him on that offer, she slipped off her panties, showing off her perfect neatly trimmed bush. The Boy admired her sublime womanly magnificence with an infatuated eye. “Of all the pussies I've seen, yours ranks as number one. It looks warm and inviting. And, best of all, the carpets perfectly match the drapes, a plus in my books.”
By Cara Sutra: He may have been an old man – to her, at least – but his cock was as rigid and thick and ready as any young stud. Her endeavours crawling across the floor towards him, over the generous amount of floor, hadn’t been in vain, judging from the warm pulsing through the stiff member she soon held in her hand.
The clear but viscous liquid which had been pooling for quite some time at the apex of her thighs finally surrended their hiding place; making an unelegant bid for freedom a slender string headed towards the floor, narrowly missing soiling the centre of the spreader bar between her feet.
Aaron assumed Valen meant the cum that kept landing on him. After it hit Aaron’s chin, Valen arched his pelvis closer and Aaron’s cheek and neck were the recipients of the next two shots of spunk. The fourth one landed on Aaron’s shoulder. Aaron opened his mouth up to speak. He got no further than a startled sound when Valen swiped his fingers through his own cum then held them to Aaron’s lips. Aaron’s belly fluttered and he debated what to do for all of a half second. He stuck his tongue out tentatively in case he absolutely hated the taste of cum, then moaned happily when he discovered that the salty flavor wasn’t bad at all. A little bitter. Aaron had always preferred that over sweet. “Gods, that’s so sexy.” Valen pushed his spunk-covered fingers into Aaron’s mouth. “The things we could do together...” Aaron sucked eagerly, both appalled and thrilled with his own daring. “Fuck,” Valen gritted out. “Your tongue feels so silky. It’s made for my—” He pressed his lips together and yanked his fingers from Aaron’s mouth.
The evening passed in the usual blur where time speeds up and excitement is at a high. We got closer and closer during the evening and exchanged flirty banter and those looks. You know the ones. Curious, daring, challenging, knowing. Time was escaping us, rushing past in an echo of Alice in Wonderland madness. Swept up in her crazy hotness and wild fire we rebelled and kissed - and our lips then tongues meeting was fire to fire. The taste of not girl, but woman. Full knowledge and comprehension of actions, not some naive innocent who will later regret.
Bruce was forty, fat and frumpy while she had a face like a Disney character’s; innocently round, with oversized blue eyes, a pert little nose and plump, pouty lips. Her body would never have got past Disney’s arbiters of taste though — nor proportion, as each of her enhanced breasts was almost the size of a man’s head. Equally synthetic were her stiletto nails, spider lashes, caramel tan and platinum blonde hair.
...if he ties me up, spanks me and uses ‘dirty talk’ before fucking me. Telling me what he’s going to do to his filthy little girl, that I’m all just for Daddy and that there’s nothing I can do to stop him, he’s going to fuck me anyway, nothing I can do about it. No choice. Tied up and no way out, no escape. Just a little fucktoy, a ragdoll for him to use and abuse at will. That sort of thing.
Cara Sutra: As most of you know I have a personal interest in all things Femdom. As a dominatrix and Mistress on the fetish scene it was genuinely thrilling some years ago to find an author who wrote first-rate erotic fiction around the power dynamic of Female domination.