Feet

So... more news about BabyFace.

BabyFace has admitted to me that he has a foot fetish. He loves nothing more than to spend his time massaging and kissing and rubbing my feet. He leaves and masturbates afterwards - which is a good thing because I don't think I'm up to fucking him at the moment.

The foot worship is interesting... but I think I need a pedicure!

I must admit, it's a new experience!

With Love
SSB

A Weekend...

So MarriedGuy is now in fact married. I did my part, participated in their wedding. Managed not to say anything about the frequency of his indiscretions. I was in his hotel room getting ready to go down to the reception. MarriedGuy copped a feel, whispered "one day I'll grow up", kissed me on the neck. I don't think he has any intention of treating married life differently to the last 6 1/2 years of their relationship.

So, Long. Good old Long and I caught up. It was BossMans birthday party. BabyFace, Long and BossMan and I got talking. There were espresso martinis. Many many espresso martinis. And after a hundred espresso martinis, I was licking espresso off two gay guys then Long and BabyFace took me home and we had quite the interesting night. What a night it was too.... spanking, oral, anal...  Those two boys fucked me so hard it was incredible. Those two twisted my body into a thousand different positions. I think my favourite would have to be on my couch though. Long sitting down with BabyFace holding my head down on Longs cock while fucking me hard from behind.

You'd think that'd be enough for one weekend? But no. At the wedding, I was busted naked by a very handsome musician (getting changed into my dress). The best man was following him into the room. I've known the best man for the better part of 10 years. At the reception, the best man and I were sitting at the bridal table. After ensuring his wife and son were a reasonable distance away, he grabbed my hand under the table, pulled it up onto his thigh, leaned in and whispered "The musician looked away, I didn't. Every inch of skin under your dress is just about perfect." When it came to good bye hugs, he kissed me, almost on the lips. Just far enough to be socially acceptable, but the hand on my ass told me that there are other things on his mind.

Punk and I have been friends - not sex-friends. Just friends. It's going fine, just pleasant.

As for (s)Ex. Well, someone told him I've been seeing other people last week. This lead to a VERY large scene, with him screaming at yours truly. I responded by telling him he could go fuck himself. Doubt there will be much more in this chapter moving forward. He informed me that if I was "interested" in others that there wasn't space for him in my life. I'd have thought after breaking it off with someone you were free to do as you pleased. Apparently I was mistaken. So silent treatment it is, from him. I'd be lying if I said I was disappointed,

As for me? I'm happy as ever. Still a perve, still loving men as much as ever.

With Love (and thoughts of sex)

SSB x

Down For The Count

Dear Friends,

I've been away as you might have noticed.

But I'm back.

Definitely back.

Hopefully with some sordid details soon...

I've missed you all.

With Love
SSB

Quiet Reflections

So, this week has been really quiet, there's almost nothing to mention, so instead we'll do a recap of how things are with all my boys. 

Guy who won't come: So, I asked him about this last night. He explained as follows, he has difficulty getting there, and has done for quite some time. He had been concerned about how lightheaded I was so he'd been focussed on me. I suggested we put the choking aside for a while, he agreed. Things look more positive there.

Punk: Punk is in love with a girl who doesn't love him back. He's been trying to sway me into getting into bed with him (most likely to just numb the pain). I've been declining. Nothing is really different between us, but I feel like we've passed our used-by date.

BabyFace: BabyFace and I are spending quite a bit of time together, chatting and hanging out. He started giving me those big wide eyes, so I've put a little bit of space there. We're catching up about once a week, but no sex.

Muso: Is in town, keeps calling me. I'm avoiding. No particular reason, but I just don't have the energy for his bullshit at the moment.

MarriedGuy: We had a heart to heart. I value his friendship, and I don't want to risk losing it, or risk him losing his family. I said we should stop fooling about. He didn't quite agree, but things are looking to be on an even keel.

Red: Fell in love, he's dating a great girl. Hardly hear a whisper from him these days. When I do he suggests I should meet her. Sounds fine to me.

Spike: Spike and I have been chatting and catching up occasionally. Though it hasn't been sexual. I've been a little over him too of late. 

Long: Long is off the rails. We've not been sleeping together for a very long time, but he's dating lots of girls and partying hard. Love him to pieces, but he's a mess right now. I'm leaving him to run amok alone.

Pup: Trying to be a better boyfriend to his long time partner. She is now a "homemaker" (no kids, so I'm not sure what this means) but it does mean he can't sneak around any more.

(s)Ex: (s)Ex and I aren't sleeping together. He's been away on work, and I can't be bothered. We're still friends, and still pretty close, but I don't know if I'm up for more meaningless sex. It feels weird.

And as for me... I'm taking it easy. I've been preoccupied with family stuff for the last week. So no sex to report at all. I've been up in my head, I suppose, thinking about the future and about where I'm going. 

Sorry there's not more sexiness to check in with...

With Love

SSBx

Bruise Ban

I'm on a one week bruise ban. From Sunday to Friday, I've sworn of bruises. No biting, no choking. Just gentleness. 

I know, I don't like it either, but I have to do a medical thing on Friday morning... It wouldn't look good.

Tonight I caught up with my friend who chokes me sometimes. I explained the ban.

Tonight we ended up kissing, watching a movie. Touching gently. We curled up on the couch, my legs over his lap, him pulling me in. Kissing my lips and cheeks and neck. Running his fingertips through my hair, looking at my face and smiling.

It was all quite sweet...

We wandered into the bedroom, and he undressed me really slowly. He unclipped my new bra, and slipped the matching black and gold lace panties to the floor. He lay me back on the bed, and pinned my legs slightly apart between his. 

He stroked my clit softly, looking to my eyes, watching my breathing. My legs trembled as I came. He pushed me close to coming then slowed down just a tad. Leaving me squirming and desperate. By the time he was on top of me I was wet, desperate. Wanting his chest pressed against mine, with his cock deep inside me.

He kissed me, putting on the condom carefully, then slipped his cock inside me carefully, watching my eyes as he did. His fingers dug into my sides a little, pleasure evident on his face.

I started to come, it only took two minutes with him inside me to get there. He pushed in and out, comfortably, my legs shaking just a little. I came, digging my fingers into his back... 

He kissed me as I came. He pushed me really hard at one point, and I came so hard I could actually feel my wetness dripping. My heart raced.

He stroked my neck softly as I came. No pressure, just a trigger to help push me up over the edge again.

Then he stopped.

I don't mean came, he pulled out, curled up next to me and kissed my neck.

I suggested we should continue and he said it was ok. As though he didn't want to. 

Maybe I've lost my touch?

Too Far

I think I might have pushed it too hard.  As my friends neighborhoodmilf and thebeatgoes pointed out in the comments from yesterday.

Thanks for the reality check guys.

The lightheadedness isn't clearing as easily as usual, and it hurts when I swallow. Yes - if it gets worse I'll see a doctor (I'll even tell them how I got the bruises).

For now, rest, warm tea, relaxation.

Today my best friend is coming over for lunch, hair stroking, and cuddles. I think I'm feeling a little emotionally neglected and need to spend some quality time with people who get me. 

In exciting news, I got an email from a friend. He's been off the grid in Paris for a couple of months now. Only a couple of emails in months and months. I'm so delighted to have heard from him. 

So here is to me accepting my limits, to lovely emails, and a day of Quentin Tarantino movies!

Thanks for the reality checks sometimes.

Love, 

SSB

P.S. NeighborhoodMilf writes a really amazing, really edgy blog. Hit her up here: milflife.blogspot.com.au.

Lightheaded

So I had another moment with my choking friend. I really should choose a name for him, but one doesn't easily spring to mind.


Things went fine, dinner, movie, chats... we curled up on his couch to watch a movie. After a little while he kissed me, pulled me in close, and looked me in the eye. He wrapped both hands around my throat (palm against my trachea, fingers interlaced on the side of my neck). 


He squeezed. 


Hard. 


I felt lightheaded at first. I felt the choking start to take effect. But he didn't ease. Usually when I start to lose vision, he lets go. Staring into my eyes, he let me faint.


I came to, trembling and shaking. I have no idea how long I was out. The high was amazing. I won't lie. But we went far, fast.


We slept together afterwards. I felt so... intertwined with the moment. The lightheadedness, the arousal, the impending need to orgasm.


The sex was good, he bit me, scratched me, squeezed my wrists above my head. He sucked my nipples hard. 


He wouldn't come though. He wouldn't let me go down on him, wouldn't let me jerk him off, not a chance.


He called me beautiful afterwards, washing my body in a warm shower. Kissing my neck softly. Telling me it was amazing.


Gentle sweetness, intense choking, intimacy... all very strange...

Take A Big Swing, Blue Eyes

I was warned expressly by a guy who reads my blog not to write about him. He's been acting like a complete nut. Total meltdown.


He threatened me, so I decided to write this:

Fuck you, Blue Eyes. Don't threaten me.

Bruises

I have a love.


It's not one I usually admit to. I certainly don't tell others often. I'm actually terrified of my love. In the past when people have stumbled across it, I play coy. I don't tell them how much I love it.


My love is a hand around the throat.


I don't mean a touch. I mean hard. Hard enough that I can't breathe at all. Until my vision goes dark and I pass out.


I know - I can hear the danger lectures... Asphyxia is a dangerous fetish.


Nonetheless, I have a newish friend. He happily obliges my fetish. He's responsible (non drinker, non smoker, non drugger). He happily holds my neck until I faint. Until I've had enough.


I don't play alone, I'm not interested in dying. I'm just addicted to that rush. 


Tonight, my new friend held my throat, and watched me gasp for air. I hate to gasp. So he squeezed tighter. He watched my eyes until I fainted, then held me as the hallucinations set in. He stroked my hair and held me close as the shaking set in. As it subsided, he'd squeeze me close, hug me, and watch my eyes reopen.


The bruises are forming already. I can feel them on my neck, around my trachea, along the arteries.


Rumour has it this is what cocaine is like. I can see why people get addicted. I have to wait until I can feel it again. 


Patience.

Sublime

So last night BabyFace came over. We talked.


It was amazing. We drank red wine. We had an honest conversation.


We spoke about BDSM. 


He's finally come to terms with it. He's a Switch. He just broke up with a Domme.


I couldn't even believe the things I was hearing. BabyFace is now a big bad Switch, looking for a sub to Dom. I could see it in his eyes too.


I feel bad, perhaps I took some of that innocence. 


Regardless, he's as sweet as ever. I curled up, put my head in his lap and he stroked my hair while we watched a movie.


Then we curled up on my bed, he held me close.


No kissing, no sex, he just held me. Then he said that he didn't want me to vanish on him again.


He told me he was sorry. That he understood his behaviour forced me into a position where I had to be a bitch. I don't perfectly agree, though his behaviour, at times, was substandard. 


We're at a new level of honesty, of understanding, of respect. 


Though consider this a plea: Please don't fall in love with me again, I promise I'll break your heart again.

Proud of Myself

So I figured out something amazing.

It's happened before once or twice.

But I finally worked out how to push things in that direction.

This was taken from
the official Lelo website.

I've managed to work out how to squirt. 


I bought a Lelo toy a while ago... I'd been using it to massage my clit. 

Silly me. 

I should have been pushing it inside and using the slight hooked end to rub my g spot.

Explosions of joy...

This toy... is changing my life. One squirting orgasm at a time...

BabyFace

I hurt someone a long time ago. I was inconsiderate. I was mean.

I expressed contrition.

Then I hurt him again.

I expressed contrition. I apologised, not just to him, but to our friends.

Then I hurt him again.

And on it went. Over and over. Seven or eight months.

I was mean.

I could make so many excuses for my inexcusable behaviour. There are many reasons. I shan't try to justify it today though.

I was 22, he was just a baby. 19. I got drunk and kissed him one night. We ended up in bed together. I remember this moment vividly.

He was on top of me, we were naked. He kissed me and I held his face, stroked his cheek with one hand. I said these words:

"No matter what happens, I'll never love you."

Then he pushed his hard cock inside me for the first time.

That time ended with me on my stomach, wrists pinned against the small of my back, his other hand around my neck, forcing my face into my bed. I think he spat on my cheek. He fucked me harder and harder. The sunlight streaming in my bedroom window. We'd fucked for hours.

We bought take away, sitting on the floor of my apartment in our underwear and t shirts, talking. We hung out. We worked together. We flirted. I teased him. I played quite the coquette. 

He got sick of it one night at work, slammed my chest against the counter. He spanked my ass. Over and over. 

We played and played and played.

We'd kiss at work when no one was watching. We'd go clubbing and he'd stand next to me and stroke my ass through my dress, pulling my panties tight around my pussy. We'd sit next to each other at dinners. Then we'd sneak home together... and he'd fuck me hard. 

I didn't love him. He loved me though. And I knew it. I just didn't care.

At my birthday party, it all finally came to a head. I was kissing Bee (his best friend). I kissed another guy.

He finally cracked under the stress. He walked out. He sent me a message. Telling me we couldn't be friends any more. Telling me he couldn't stand to see me the way he had. That me not caring was too hard. He changed work shifts to get away from me. He stopped visiting during my shifts. He vanished. He deleted me off Facebook. Gone. 

Fifteen months of total silence. Not a whisper. After three years of speaking virtually every day. Silence. 

The silence was deafening at first. Something would happen and I'd think of him. I'd pull out my phone... only to realise I'd deleted his phone number.

Time went on. I'd hear the occasional whisper. Our friends to this day call him "Your Boy" to me. He was my boy. BossMan would lecture me. Telling me over and over to call him and apologise. I wouldn't do it though. I didn't want to make him hurt more. 

And so on it went.

Then out of the blue, he sent me an email about tax. Tax. Of all fucking things. Tax. I replied with a polite thank you, and an inquiry as to how he was.

The conversation grew. 

Best of all, I apologised. He accepted it too.

I nearly cried reading the words we shared. Not something I do often. But I'm filled with this sensation, maybe I'm softening. Maybe I'm starting to care. Regardless, I like it.

Forgiveness is the fragrance that the violet sheds on the heel that has crushed it. - Mark Twain

Bee

There was a girl. Once upon a time. She was a very good friend of mine.


We met while I worked with her best friend.


Over time him and I became very close. Sleeping together a few times. Him and I were incompatible. I was in my 23 and sleeping with a teenager. Granted he was 18, but I still felt a little... strange. Younger man and all.


He eventually fell in love, I invariably didn't. He sent his best friend, Bee, to do recon. Our group of friends, her now included, ended up drinking together, partying together, her working her way through my defences at his request, to seek information about why I didn't feel the same.


Eventually I came to trust her and I laid it out for her. He was trying to make me be his mother, and I wasn't ready for a teenage child.


She explained this to him, over and over and over. Painfully. Breaking his heart repeatedly. I broke it over and over. The kid was a masochist. He kept coming back, and I'd serve him up a fresh plate of heart ache. 


She got angry with him, resenting him putting himself in the position to have his heart broken. She ended up bonding with me over our mutual dislike of kicking this kid when he was down.


Our bond over hurting him was strangely compelling. She took to spending girls nights at my house, watching action movies, playing guitar hero. We spent Friday through Sunday together. Sometimes more. 


She's taller than me. I'd guess 168 cm tall. Average build, but muscular. Large firm breasts, light brown hair, green eyes. Her eyes are a little more hazel than mine.


She was sleeping with a guy. An engaged guy with a pregnant fiance. They'd been sneaking around for sometime. Eventually she broke it off with him. I picked up the pieces of her broken heart, lying naked in my backyard, bathing in the sunshine of late spring. Months went by. Three days a week, we'd sunbathe and talk.


With how close we'd become, and the public knowledge that we were both bisexual, rumours started. Whispers. People would stare and wonder. 


She was an exhibitionist. She revelled in the attention. She'd walk up behind me in front of our mutual friends and slip her hands around my waist, resting her chin on my shoulder. Brushing my hair off my cheek. She loved to tease them. Torture them. 


One night, we'd been out partying. It had been a long night. Her, my boss and I wound up catching a taxi to my place for a nightcap. Nothing unusual, really. 


He made a joke about us being sexy lesbians. She kissed me, just to tease him. He was in a committed relationship. He wouldn't touch us. She was just being a tease. 


"You're bad" he remarked. 
"Yes, she is" Bee agreed.


She pushed me back in a chair opposite him, getting down on all fours. Looking over her shoulder, ass exposed a little because of her short dress.


"Should I lick her?" she asked. "Maybe I should punish her for being naughty with my tongue."


He froze. Stunned. I looked at her eyes wide. She winked. I wasn't sure if she was serious or playing. Either way, I was wet. 


She licked my lace panties with her tongue. I shivered slightly. 


"Look him in the eye" she whispered in a firm voice. Barely audible, but the directness was unmistakeable.


I obeyed instantly.


I looked him dead in the eye, and she immediately reached inside my lace panties, pushing two fingers straight inside me and as she got all the way in, she applied pressure to my clit with her thumb.


I shook immediately. The eye contact between BossMan and I wasn't breaking. She licked my clit softly, flicking it. I came in seconds. 


He sat there. Staring at us. 


That's how it all started.


She took to teasing me in public. Spanking me sometimes, kissing my neck, nibbling my ears, stroking the back my thighs under a skirt.


She pushed me into the store room at work. One night she even kissed me in front of her heartbroken best friend, just because she could. She wasn't always nice, but she was always a tease.


We ended up close. Very close. A perfect understanding. At night, sometimes we'd watch a movie, sometimes we'd fuck. But every day, we'd end up naked in my yard, talking together, lying in the sun. 


Months went past. The lazy spring weather of October turned to a chilly Autumn in April. The sunshine days were fewer.


My birthday came. We kissed, we partied. She pinned my wrists against a wall in a pub and let a very beautiful lesbian kiss me, tease me. Bee knew how to drag me outside my comfort zone. Make me feel beautiful and dirty in the same heartbeat.


We spent the night apart. Her best friend having a final breakdown at seeing us together. He's never spoken to me since.


During the cooler months of that Autumn, she fell in love. She fell in love with a guy who controlled her. So she lied, manipulated, cheated. I helped her. I gave her alibis, I manipulated his trust. Even though he considered me a friend.


Her and I stopped sleeping together, we just kept teasing guys occasionally. Just for fun. I was happy to help her get her exhibitionist fix.


One day he caught on. He realised I knew more than I'd let on.


He caught me by the wrist, put me on the spot and asked me a question I couldn't cover. The time it took me to think of a good answer was too long, the lie obvious. 


Caught in the depths of her bad lies, tangled in more than a year of deceit. I let it slip. I told him some of the truths. Since the day I told him a whisper, she's not said a word.


I don't miss her for the sex as much as I miss her for the companionship. For the fun. For her big hazel-green eyes and beautiful smile. 


Don't you wish sometimes that you could just fix it? Even when you can't.

Miss You

Alright guys, so I've been kinda celibate for a while. Not like me at all.


Why?


Well, I've been caught up in this idea of "connecting". You know, actually meeting someone I like enough to spend the night with (and not hate them in the morning). Wanting to look at them, them look at me and have a truly deep understanding. 


A sexual connection that is red hot. One that ties us together and is a little consuming. 


It sounds like obsession, and I suppose that's not far off true.


I suppose something changed. I'll do my best to explain it.


The sheer act of things isn't enough. It's not that I want "vanilla" sex, with no twist or spice. Quite the opposite.


Punk offered to spank me. To put me over his knee and spank me. Hard too.


Truthfully? I want to be spanked. Hard. But not by Punk. By someone who when their hand lands firmly on my ass it stings in so many different ways. Where the moment is intoxicating. Where the thrill exceeds physical. The energy spanning into emotional and psychological thrills.


The subject of me sleeping with women has come up in several conversations lately with various people. Either in whispers of threesomes, or in the suggestions of a lesbian interaction.


I keep coming back to my old friend. Her light brown hair, her big hazel green eyes. Her cheeky smile. She was so beautiful. She was a tease. My darling girl loved to play, to tease. She was never sexier than when she was being a show pony. A true exhibitionist, a great lover. But also my friend.


I miss her terribly. 


We haven't spoken in four months now. One day I'll write a blog about my time with Bee. 


But for now, I just miss her.

A Stumble

Once upon a time there was a girl. That girl just wanted to fuck and chat. And when that was all she wanted, things were easy. Life was easy.


Then one day she awoke in her big bed. Alone. And wondered if it was enough. The fucking wasn't helping. The chatting was irritating. She turned off her phone, ignored phone calls. Vanishing. 


Weeks went past. The less calls she answered, the less came. 


She became invisible.


She started to wonder what feelings she had. The feelings were darker and scarier. Less contentment. The disposable men no longer fulfilled the feelings.


Her eyes grew sad.


She was alone. Walking in the woods.


She made new friends along the way. The friends offered counsel, opportunities.


Those opportunities, she wondered, might be what she wanted, but perhaps would leave her hurting more.


Perhaps, she wondered, it was time to stop.


Sometimes, you shouldn't get back on the horse. Sometimes those gauche attempts are a sign. Riding just isn't your thing.

A Break

I'm preoccupied. Other thoughts. New ideas.


This week has been unusual.


Punk is away, he's still sending me messages. He misses me. Things are quieter on that front. The intensity is gone, the feeling that he could drag me in has passed. 


Spike and I caught up. Things aren't as perfect as I thought with the girl who shares my name. He misses me. I didn't care.


Red called. He broke it off with his distant lover. He's not leaving any more. He suggested red wine and a deep and meaningful. I said I'd see how I felt.


Pup called. He usually texts, but he called. He wanted to schedule time for next week. I said I'd see.


(s)Ex and I caught up. We watched a bad movie, talked about where we were going in life. He tried to kiss me goodbye. I turned my head and gave him cheek.


MarriedGuy is pretending he's actually going to marry the love of his life. Most of the time. He asked me if I'd watch him jerk off. I declined. Normally I wouldn't mind, but I just didn't want to this time.


Muso and Body are both texting me. Those two are fuck ups. They both offered me naked photos. I declined those too. Body still sent me a photo of his cock. It was a decent cock. I'm sure his girlfriend would be thrilled to know he sends photos of it around.


I've had a couple of old flames text me to "catch up and hang out". The implications aren't subtle.


Granted I've been unwell (just a cold).


Normally on busy weeks like this I revel in the attention. The naughty text messages are an aphrodisiac.


Instead I turned my phone off, and have let the thoughts of other things preoccupy my mind. I don't know if I'm changing, I think I'm probably just distracted.

Hook... Line...

Punk tried to give me money. A lot of it. He said he wants to "see me happy". Only a day after fucking me. 


I didn't take it. 


He keeps trying to give it to me.


New levels of being a screw up?


Is it paying for the past? Or purchasing a future?

There's a Good Girl

I saw Punk. We wined. We dined. We drank expensive wine. He paid the $450 tab. It was unnecessary extravagance. Wankery, really. He wanted to impress me. As though the $500 dinner would let him own me a little more in his mind. 


I dressed in a black lace dress, it's sheer lace over a black lace slip. The sheer black lace means you can see my shoulders and back and about half my thighs. The black slip covers the rest. A satin tie around my underbust accentuated my DD breasts. A white pearl on a long silver chain hung elegantly between my breasts to catch his eye. My black leather shoes were polished and shiny, and beneath my green panties and bra (matching forest green lace) were beautiful. Chosen to look beautiful against my white skin.


He escorted me out of the front door after some polite dinner conversation. There were some men watching me walk. Punk noticed. He put his hand on my ass deliberately in front of them. He pinched hard enough to assert that I was his. He let go, putting his hand on the back of my neck, asserting his dominance, I assume.


He walked me to the car, pulling a ticket out of the windscreen wipers. We'd been longer than anticipated.


We got in the car and drove. The rain came down hard. We drove most of the drive back to his place, between changing gears, he'd slide his hand up my thigh, pressing his fingertips hard against my pussy lips, occasionally wiggling it in against my clit.


We pulled into a drive through bottle shop, sitting in the car, he pushed the skirt of my dress up high while waiting for service. Suddenly he brought his hand down SMACK on my thigh. 


The red mark was instantaneous. The glowing heat was obvious. My right thigh was stinging. He pushed my skirt up a little higher, resting his fingers against my pussy. The man came to the car window and greeted Punk. He explained what he wanted, the man brought him the portable EFTPOS machine, glancing at my leg while he waited for the machine to process. Locking eyes with me, he wished us a good night.


Punk and I walked inside, I greeted his roommate warmly. I like Punks roommate. You can trust him. I always feel a little more at ease knowing he's around, as though if I screamed for help he'd come and rescue me. I lack faith that Punk will always control his limits perfectly, and that he could cross them at some stage. It's the biggest reason that I never would let him keep me.


He pushed me to drink, he gave me a drink. It was stronger than I realised. I was a little drunker than I'd have preferred. Not trashed, but my sense of pain was distorted, my sense of self, distorted. We got down the hallway to his bedroom. He untied my dresses ribbon, slowly running the zip down. He was standing behind me, kissing my neck, slowly running his hands down my back. He took my dress off over my head.  He spun me around, leaning me back and kissing me gently.  


He let me step back, then he spun me, pushed me onto the bed. He lubed his cock up, grabbed my hips dragging them into the air, pushing my panties to the side, shoving it into my ass. He fucked me for a little while, hand around the back of my neck, pushing me down into the bed sometimes when I moaned.


He pulled out, bit me on the back of the neck and asked me to follow him. I obliged. We showered together, he ran the soap over my body. The warmth of the shower was delightful. We stepped out, he sat me on the counter. My pussy is usually kept trimmed short. He pulled a new razor blade out of a packet, and began to carefully shave my pussy. He took his time. Occasionally touching my clit. He carefully parted my lips, shaving my labia slowly, allowing his fingers to touch my opening softly. The razor slid smoothly over my skin, he rinsed it in hot water, shaving some more. When he was satisfied he poured some water over me, then licked my clit softly. 


He picked me up and threw me over his shoulder. My ass exposed. He tapped it a couple of times and carried me to the bedroom. Dropping me on my back on the bed. He pushed my legs up, spreading them wide and starts to suck and lick my clit hard. He shoves two fingers in my pussy, one in my ass and pushed me to climax again and again and again. I pulled his hair, pulling his face into my pussy.


My legs shook, my pussy dripped. My hands ran through my hair. My orgasms were strong enough to make my body tremble.


He got up and flipped me onto my stomach, straddling my left leg. Holding the back of my neck in his hand, he guided his cock into my ass. Pinning my face into his bed. He pushed his fingers into my pussy, pulling them out, pinching my clit hard. Hard enough to hurt. With his fingers hooked inside my pussy, he started slamming my ass hard from behind. My cunt started to drip. My thighs were wet from where my pussy leaked. He pushed my face down hard into the bed again as I started to scream. 


He pulled his cock out of my ass and pushed it into my dripping wet cunt. He pulled my head to the side so he could watch me coming. He pulled his cock out slowly, then slammed it in hard. He shoved a thumb in my ass. Pulled his cock out of my pussy, shoved it back in hard. He pulled my hair up so I was up on my hands. He let go and pinched my nipples hard. Twisting them a little as I screamed he started fucking me harder. He grabbed my hair and started to pound away hard.


After a while I could hear him getting closer to cumming. pushed my shoulders down into the bed suddenly. He pulled out of my pussy, spread my ass cheeks, pushing the head of his cock against my asshole and blew his load all over it. He flipped a light on, admiring this cum dripping from my ass down over my pussy. 


Once he was satisfied, he rolled over. I stood up, let his come run down the inside of my legs and went to the shower and washed his come off me. He came in and shoved me against the wall, shoving his cock into my ass again. Pushing me up against the shower wall.


My breasts and face against the glass, ass pushed against him, like the girl in the picture. He spread my legs, telling me how much he liked my wet shaved cunt, fucking my ass. 


He slowed as I got closer to coming, waited till my orgasm backed off, then fucked me again. Over and over. Denying me release. 


"If you want to come, fuck my cock like a little whore" he instructed. "Come on, grind your ass on my cock" he teased.


I pushed my ass back against him and started to fuck him. He stroked my clit. 


"Come on Miss, fuck it hard" 


He kept his arm across my shoulders, keeping my chest against the wall so I could only work his cock by thrust my hips. I came hard. Shaking and moaning. He pulled his cock out. 


"There's a good girl" he whispered in my ear, kissing my neck.

Bruised Knees

So today Punk flew in. He arrived at the airport midmorning. I pulled my car up, Fleetwood Mac playing on the stereo. I pulled into the pickup bay, drove along and spotted him. Tight jeans, work shirt, sunglasses and a backpack. He'd traveled light.


He opened the door, climbed in, shoving his backpack into the backseat of my car. "Morning Miss" he greeted me. He looked me up and down. "You look good".


I turned and kissed him lightly and pulled out of the bay and started to drive towards his place. We sat in silence for a while. Him sipping a bottle of coke, I flicked through to a new album on my iPod. A put some Johnny Cash on, and as the songs about a pretty girl floated through my car, Punk squeezed my thigh. "I missed your smile, Miss" he said.


I flashed him a cheeky grin. We were paused at lights, waiting to turn onto the highway. He slid his hand up my smooth thigh, pushing my knee length dress up, stroking the outside of my panties. He reached over and grabbed my head and pulled my face towards his, kissing me hard. 


His fingers brushed lightly over my black lace g string, stroking my lips softly. I pulled onto the highway, Johnny Cash playing, my panties getting wet from the gentle stroking. As we hit the 100km mark, he slipped his fingers inside my panties, forcing one into my wet pussy. I focussed intently on the road ahead. Only 30 more minutes in the car to go. 


He slipped his finger in and out, brushing my clit gently. When things got too close to orgasm I touched his wrist lightly. I reached over and touched his hard cock through his tight jeans. I could tell he was ready to go.


I swung past to pick him up some breakfast from a cafe, then pulled my car into the driveway. We picked up our things, took them inside, setting our food down on the counter. We headed down the hall and he dropped his bag on his bed. I leaned against the wall of the hallway. He walked up to me, and grabbed my left hand with his, and pulled hard, causing me to spin. He pushed me, hard, between my shoulder blades so I fell a little forward, catching my shoulder on the door frame, so I was leaning against it, he smacked me hard. Over and over. I cried out and he kept spanking. He ran his fingers down the back of my g string, index finger hooked through. He pushed them to one side and unzipped his pants. He pushed down between my shoulder blades until I was bent over. He held his cock against my pussy and pushed in hard. 


He started fucking me hard. I leaned against the doorway, orgasms rolling over me. He grabbed my pony tail and dragged me back a step, then pulled my hair to the side so he could watch my orgasms roll over me. Halfway through an orgasm he pulled out and  looped his arms under mine pulling them back, slamming my chest into the wall. "Shouldn't have teased me while I was away Miss.".


He let go and walked to the kitchen, picked up the breakfast and ate on the couch. We ate slowly, chatting about the day ahead. We finished breakfast, allowing the TV to filter through re-runs of once-hit programs. He pulled me onto his lap so I was straddling him. He kissed me softly, lifting my dress and stroking my clit. He unzipped his pants, pulling his cock free, he lifted me slightly, aiming his hard cock at my wet pussy. He pushed my shoulders down, forcing me hard onto his cock, slapping my face, then spanking my ass hard. My already red ass cheeks stung, his repeated swats hurt. I was just pushing toward coming again when he grabbed my hair, and pulled it back hard. He whispered, his lips pressed hard against my neck "Alright Miss, hop off".


I complied reluctantly. I followed him to the shower, he stripped naked, and peeled my dress and bra off. I had a shower earlier, and had no desire to get wet. I watched him soap up and relax, I leaned over, resting my elbows on the counter. 


He got out of the shower and pressed down on my back, pushing my chest flat against the bathroom counter. He pulled my panties down, and pressed his cock against my still wet pussy, pulling away and pressing it against my ass. I made a noise to protest. "Shh Miss" he said gently. Pressing against my ass harder, holding his hard cock with one hand, he pushed... just opening up a millimetre. I moaned deeply and straightened my back a little. He pushed my face down, hand over my mouth. He pushed harder, I felt the head of his hard cock push through into my ass. I groaned with a little pain and a little pleasure. I tensed a little. He slapped my ass hard "Relax Miss" I tried to breathe as he pushed inside me hard. I gasped in and out. He started to fuck me hard. In and out, pounding away. He grabbed my shoulders and used them to fuck me as hard as he could. 


Suddenly he wrapped his forearm around my neck, lowering me down onto my knees on the floor of the bathroom. He started to fuck me hard from behind. "Come on Miss, I wanna hear you come hard" he instructed. I started to scream and come. My wetness dripped down my legs. He pushed my face down onto the bathroom floor, my knees moving on the wet tiles with each thrust. I was shaking and screaming and coming. He kept fucking me hard... unrelenting... the orgasms washed over me. I was just about to come again, and he pulled out without warning. He slapped me hard on the ass. I turned around, ready to suck his cock, or take a load all over my face. "Not yet Miss" he said. He patted my left cheek softly, I blushed.


We got in the shower, it took a moment for the water to run warm. He caught me under my elbow, and spun me and pushed me flat against the tiles. He pushed my chest into the wall with his arm, and used his free hand to guide my hips out so that my ass was pointing out, but my chest still flat against the wall. 


"One" he whispered. Forcing one finger inside my wet pussy. 
"Two" I started to moan. "You're getting wetter Miss" he said fucking my pussy with his fingers.
"Three" he whispered into my ear, and I felt a third finger trying to force it's way inside my pussy. Finally he worked it in. I felt tight and full. "Now, work it bitch" he said softly. I started to grind on his hand. I was moaning.
"Four" I gasped. He pushed shoved me harder against the wall, and I felt his fingers pull out a little. I felt his fourth finger pressed against my wet opening. I wanted to pull away. He pushed, it wasn't going to fit easily. He worked his fingers around, pushing them in and out, working the tip of all four in. Then he paused. The pause lasted for such a long time. Then he pushed hard. It hurt, it felt so good. I could have melted. He worked them around hard inside me. "There's a good girl" he whispered, and he pulled them out before I could come. He released me from being pinned against the wall. I gasped. He kissed me softly, running his hands over me under the running water. We got out of the shower and dried ourselves.


We ran a few menial errands, returning home after an hour or so's drive and a cup of coffee. We sat on the couch. Once again he pulled me on top of him. He pushed my panties to the side. He freed his cock from the constrains of his pants, pushing it straight into my pussy.


I was dripping wet. Desperate for more. Desperate to come again. Desperate to feel him come. I was kneeling, facing him, I started to grind back and forth on his cock, holding onto the back of the couch. He lay back and watched me. I was wearing my dress but he was staring at my tits, lifting my dress up from time to time watching his cock disappear into my wet pussy.


I rode him hard, I was aching, desperate. I pulled my feet up so they were on the couch and he could no longer resist. He grabbed my ass and was lifting me up and then pulling me down hard onto his cock. I was fucking him as hard as I could, my light brown hair sticking to my face, my breath ragged. He grabbed my throat hard, and with his other hand forced my hips down onto his cock. He came hard inside me. 


I kissed him softly and climbed up. He'd come a lot, and it immediately trickled down to my knee. I left him sitting back on the couch and I tidied up in the bathroom. I walked back and kissed him softly on the lips. 
"Thanks" I said in his ear. I picked up my bag and walked out the front door. He followed after me. I hopped in my car, started the engine, and gave a quick wave and left.