Your Weekly Dose

On my way down the aisle, he caught my gaze, smiled. Flicked a look up and down, the left corner of his mouth lifting. Lips parted. Teeth tips. My fingers trailed lightly over his shoulder as I made my slow way past his seat.

I left the bathroom door unlocked on purpose. I kept my eyes closed. My mouth open.

There was no soft tap, just the door folding in quickly, snapping shut, the grate of his zipper as he pulled it slowly down.

They’d bumped her up to first class. -It’s my first time. She grins conspiratorially. –I’m not sure what to do.

I lick my lips and look down her shirt.

But she does know what to do, tilting her seat back to the same angle as mine. Letting her elbow touch mine, her hand drifting down, edging under the blanket. My skirt already pushed up, my legs open. She flicks my clit, my shoulders twitch. Leans over me to close the shutter, presses her breasts to my face, suffocating.

She’s fucking me hard enough the red handles of the drawers are bruising my back, the loose screw on the cabinet digging scratches across my scalp. I’d yell, but she’s got her hand clamped over my mouth to keep me quiet, told me to listen for the Velcro of the curtains releasing. She’ll take care of the rest, she whispered, she’ll take care of me. She pulls her fingers out of my cunt, pinches my clit and twists until I bite her palm.

You can’t find my gag reflex. My lips are around your knuckles. You drag your nails along my tongue as you slowly draw your fingers out, a long trail of thick spit you smear over my face.

Well, yes, actually, I do like anal play. I like my lover to really take his time, pay attention to the muscles twitching. Then, I like him to turn his tongue or his fingers in my asshole. After that, if he’s done a good job, I like him to rub my cheeks and slap them until I’m begging for his cock. In the end, if I’m quite turned on, I can take 4 fingers up my ass.

I will slide my fingers into the cup of your corset, draw your nipples up and over the scratchy lace edge. Separate your knees, push them flat on the bed, bite your inner thigh, breathe over your clit until you say some other filthy longing thing.

You're wearing the black slip again. Sitting on the plush red stool in the middle of the room. Knees together, feet splayed to either side. Your head is titled down demurely, but you're staring straight at my bulging crotch from under your lashes.

-Show me.

You lift one hand to cup your breast, use the gentle fingertips of the other to push the satin aside, the nipple rising under the friction, flushed dark when it spills over the edge.

I’ve got the sweetest thing trussed and waiting for me to bite in. She’s let me be bitchy, snap my words out as I tie her up.

-Lean back.
-Put your knee up, higher.
-That’s it. Against your shoulder.
-That hurt? Good.

I jerk her head forward by her hair as I loop the rope behind her neck, tie the other leg up, just as uncomfortably.

She is open and wet, flushed crimson. I take her lips, spread them tight as her legs are tied. Pinch them. Lean down to feel the flesh slide over itself between my teeth.

Sorry, my sweet, for slapping your face and calling you a whore. I am sorry for dragging you by your leash around the room until your knees bled. I am sorry for pinching your clit until you cried. I am sorry for spitting on your pitiable cheek and adding to your tears.

I so enjoyed the sight of the head of your cock getting thicker and darker, the ridge more pronounced, that I only licked the tip of it occasionally. Tongue to piss slit, brine and sweet.