Sugasm #90

WOW! My story was chosen as editor's choice this week! I'm so honored! Especially with so many good, hot, drippy pieces to choose from!

The best of this week’s blogs by the bloggers who blog them. Highlighting the top 3 posts as chosen by Sugasm participants. Want in Sugasm #91? Submit a link to your best post of the week using this form. Participants, repost the link list within a week and you’re all set.

This Week’s Picks

Fat can be sexy
“I understand what it’s like to be surrounded by images that reinforce that skinny is the ONLY way to achieve sexiness.”

Are Women Visual Critters, Too?
“With the invention of the internet, however, I think that it gets even more complicated.”

Marriage, Monogamy, and All that Jazz
“My chosen lifestyle and relationship type wasn’t making any sense to the other women.”

Mr. Sugasm Himself

S Magazine

Editor’s Choice

Supply and Demand

More Sugasm

Join the Sugasm

See also: Fleshbot’s Sex Blog Roundup each Tuesday and Friday.

(Sugasm participants should re-post all the links above. The following links may be excluded as long as you include all the above links.)

Thoughts on Sex and Relationships

Am I Missing Anything, Really?
Catalina loves the Museu de l’ Erotica
Cheating Men
“How much confession can one read before becoming uncomfortably numb?”
I’m a Woman Man: Episode 2 - Faces
Lulu Forever
Playground positions
So many rabbits…

BDSM & Fetish

Car Wheels on a Gravel Road
Dirty words
Fetish Film - English Punishment Series (Spanking, Caning)
The Flesh Remembers
Fun with a subby boy
Luring the Guardian Angel
The Percentage Game
Sukebe Otaku: Happy Tears, Revisited
Teeth and claws and cock and cunt
Thunder: Service With A Smile
The Violent Kiss
Wake up bitch…
Worshipping post-erior - leaving my mark
You suck!

Sex News & Reviews

Lelo Nea Mini Vibrator Review
Sex In The Virtual World - Computer Games

Sex Humor

How To Get His Attention

NSFW Pics, Videos & Audio

Amy of 24.7 in the Kitchen
Drum Solo (video)
Half-Nekkid Exhibitionist
Ivett

Sex Work

Busy Princess Play Day

Erotic Writing and Experiences

Distracted by Her shoes
Endangered
I Want
No reservations, part 1
An old friend
Pink
Sleeping Beauty…
Supply and Demand
That Kiss
Torrential
We were in heat

OverExposure

Lately I've been thinking about exposure. I've been thinking about how excited I get, butterflies-in-my-belly, swollen and wet, little impish smile excited when I either think about or, better yet, am asked to expose myself. This could be any degree of exposure. As open as fully undressed, legs spread, examination. Or as subtle as standing before my viewer, with my legs only slightly apart. And, anything in between. I am, once again, somewhat shocked at myself. I spent many prudish years not wanting to be seen at all. Practically no part of my body, no less my cunt! And now I crave it to be seen.

I know that there are lots of exhibitionists, with varying degrees of and desires for exposure. Some have to get it in public. Like the subway for example. I read somewhere that the R train in NYC has the highest rate of flashers, so depending on your mood, you may or may not want to take the R. Or in a park, or just walking down the street. I don't mind this, necessarily. I've progressed enough in my sexual education (and debauchery, of course) to be able to shrug off a cock being pulled out for the owners gratification. It's not exciting to me, but whatever. I've never been flashed by a woman. I'm waiting for that day!

I have no need to flash in public. Recently I was e-mailing and IM'ing with a man (whom I had a very boring date with so you'll not be hearing of him again) who proceeded to tell me of his fantasy to have me out with him, no panties, short skirt, on a bar stool, flashing other men in the bar...I don't need to finish. You get the gist of it. I don't find this exciting. I don't want to randomly flash men in a bar. I want the intimacy that comes with close, physical proximity. I want to see, not shock and delight from some guy who thinks he's seeing something he shouldn't, but excitement in the eyes of the beholder. Excitement and lust. Lust and want. Then need. A need to touch.

Recently I went out with a man who I met through craigslist. This man was the model for the subject in this story. He really did post an ad on CL similar to the one I describe in the story. And, I really did answer.

The story is fiction, based on fact. What did happen was dinner. A lovely dinner, on a hot summer night, at an outdoor cafe. We drank a bit, and talked a lot and flirted blatantly, both knowing what had brought us there. We talked around it. We talked about it. Moving towards some resolution, but we didn't know what.

I'm a little ashamed of what happened. A little ashamed, but also incredibly excited. The restaurant was emptying out and things were quieting down. After talking for some time about his "fetish" for large labia, and about my answer to his call (the only answer, by the way), he asked me if we should go into one of the small, unisex bathrooms. I knew what he wanted. He wanted to "see" me. I said yes.

After paying the bill, we headed for the restrooms and, luckily, they were both unoccupied. We went into the larger of the two and locked the door. And kissed. That was nice. And then, "Can I see?" I hesitated for a fraction of a second, knowing full well that his simple question had me excited. Damp.

I unzipped my jeans, locked my thumbs on the sides and, grabbing my panties on the way down, pulled my clothes to my knees. As I stood up, he squatted down and, for a minute, just looked at me. I spread my legs a little wider, so that he could see them. The dark, wrinkled flesh that was the object of his desire. Without taking his eyes from my pussy he asked if he could touch.

He moved a hand forward and immediately held onto my lips. Touching them and squeezing them, and making me moan. "Perfect", he said. "Just what I was looking for."

For a few moments he tugged and squeezed my labia, until he could see, I suppose, the reaction he was creating. He pushed one, then two fingers up in to me and, there, in a small, not entirely clean, cafe bathroom on the Upper East Side, I came as quietly as I could as a man I'd never met finger-fucked me with not a small degree of skill.

And I wonder, is this the extent to which I'll go to expose myself? Is this how great my need is that I'll allow myself to participate in something that, for most, would be considered abject, at the worst, undignified, at the least? Do I have to censor my actions so as to keep myself from falling lower into some pit of loathsome behavior?

Perhaps.

Admittedly, though, I think of this often. I dwell on it, the picture of it in my head, the feeling of it between my legs, the gasp as his fingers first touched my full, swollen lips. I think and I masturbate and I want to do it again. I want to show myself to someone who wants to see me. Who wants to appreciate what I'm giving him.

It is, I realize, an incredibly submissive act. To be asked to show my pussy to someone simply because it excites him to see it. And to comply. The reasons for excitement are myriad and I love that. It excites him not only to see my naked cunt, but he's aroused by simply asking. By my saying yes. And, maybe he sees, for that fraction of a second, my struggle with the request. And that adds to his arousal because he knows this is, even if only slightly, hard for me to do. And, he's excited because he knows I'm excited. He knows, perhaps, that this act of exhibitionism stirs something in me. He knows it and can see it made manifest in the moisture on his fingers as he fondles my lips.

I want to do it again. Maybe with the same man, who can get a better look next time. Or, maybe with another. Someone who, with maybe a little more understanding, can make his request in such a way as to imply it is not a request at all.

HNT - July 26

I guess I'm getting into this. Not such a big surprise, I suppose, given my desire for exposure.

Today, I give you the foot. The left, to be exact. I don't want to alienate the foot fetishists. I have a new found sympathy for them.




Note written somtime later - Clearly, I don't know my left from my right. This is the RIGHT foot. Not the left.

Supply and Demand

It began on craigslist, as so many of these things do. His post was unusual, but she couldn't resist.

Big Labia Are My Biggest Turn-On

His post went on to describe, in dripping detail, an experience he’d had some time before with a woman at a wedding (not the bride, mind you). They hooked up casually and, after working themselves into a heated fervor, all clothes discarded, he saw the new objects of his desire.

...she sits up and straddles me. That’s when I notice. She was trimmed. Nicely. And from the front, the hood of her clit was visible, with the tip of it just poking out. Just below it are two dangling lips. They’re dark. Uneven. And they stick out from the rest of her pussy by about a half inch. She’s positioned so that each lip is on either side of my cock, and the head of it is right against her clit.

From then on he was hooked. With each woman he got together with, either casually or in longer relationships, he would hope that they would provide him with that which he longed to pull into his mouth. But no-one was as well endowed as his first.

Not being able to contain his need, he finally decided to be straightforward about his search. And, anonymous.

When she stumbled upon this ad, on a rainy, horny day, she knew she had to respond.

Over the next few days they wrote each other, learning details of their lives, beyond anatomical proportions. Yet, it was seething below the surface of each word.

They finally met for a drink. Their eyes locked and they knew that they couldn't wait long to satiate their desire for each other. They drank quickly and immediately moved to her apartment.

Not wasting a moment, they were on each other upon walking in the door. He pulled her shirt up over her head, she unbuckled his belt, anxious to see in the flesh what she could feel in his pants to be something satisfying. Moving towards the bed, lips locked in a tongue twirling, feverish kiss, they were down to their underwear by the time they fell together onto the duvet. And he couldn't wait any longer. Pushing her so that her head was at the top of the bed, he pulled her panties down. With no ceremony, he climbed between her legs and, pulling her thighs apart, gazed at a sight he had waited so long to see.

He slowed his movements so as to savor this moment. He wanted to reveal all the detail and take his time examining his prize. His thumbs moved one to each side of her lips. He didn't pull them apart, but just rested there, feeling gently the swelling of her pussy. He moved his thumbs and forefingers down to her large, dark, moist lips and, with something akin to tenderness, took each one between his fingers and just felt them. Held them, pinched them ever so slightly.

She remained still. As still as she could given the enormous anticipation she felt. He was examining her, looking at her in detail, taking in the contours and proportions of her pussy. She could feel her mounting excitement, knowing she was swelling and becoming more and more wet. She knew it was dripping out of her.

He could see it, almost a small bead of juice, drip from her ever increasingly wet cunt. Not quite as gently, he began to pull the lips apart, and look into her. After a moment he pulled them back together and, moving forward ever so slightly, pulled the flesh between his lips and into his mouth and began to suck. They moaned in unison. Completely connected by the eroticism of the moment. He sucked and swirled his tongue around them and through the middle of them and then back around them. He felt a completeness, a satisfaction, he didn't know was possible.

And his cock was like steel. Never, since that first time, was he so excited. As he sucked on his new found loves, he began to dart his tongue in and out of her. Then, more insistently, began to push his tongue deep inside her. Her hips moved up and forward to meet him and force his tongue deeper inside.

With her legs up practically behind her own head, he pushed and sucked and pushed and sucked until, like a volcano, she erupted, quaking and moaning and dripping her juice into his mouth and down his chin.

After, when her legs were down on the bed, he remained between them with his head resting on her thigh, just gazing and touching her soft, now completely drenched, dark labia. He gazed at her lips the way another man might gaze into a woman’s eyes. And stroked his cock.

He had found a new love and she wondered if she would ever see his face again.

Stood Up

Last night I had a date with a man I met on craigslist. Met, is of course, a euphemism for having e-mailed with him a bunch of times. Amazing how much familiarity we imbue upon messages. The ability to type is a bit less than what's required to develop a relationship.

So, I had this date with this man I "met" on craigslist and he didn't show up. I sat alone at the bar, luckily in a place I don't feel uncomfortable sitting alone, drinking my Stella. And waited. I didn't have his cell number (he had mine, though) so I couldn't call to follow-up.

I was surprised because we seemed to have had a fun time communicating. Seemed to have some things in common. A similar language. He is, most likely, married or otherwise involved, and that's the rub. That's the stopping point. It's the little detail that I could never know unless told.

I was disappointed. In the moment, after my beer and no dinner, I was feeling a bit more than just let down. I have an unhealthy tendency to gather up all my bad feelings into one big pile and look at them one by one, dissecting them and finding all the reasons why they, each of them, are justified. How I'm a loser, an idiot, too old, idealistic, foolish, fat, destined to be alone, stupid...and on and on. A barrage of negative adjectives. Because someone I don't know doesn't show up for a drink.

In the light of day, I'm feeling less devastated. Less pitiful. But in the back of my mind, maybe it's always there, is that feeling that there's no-one. A city of 8 million people plus the suburbs, and I can't find one that I'm attracted to who feels the same and hangs in there with me.

I know it's a numbers game (my therapist reminds me of this regularly...and by regularly, I mean weekly) and I'm racking up the numbers. Even if he didn't show up, I can count him as one more piece in the haystack. One more body in the body-count of dead dates. I'm sure there are more on my horizon. I have no doubt about that. I have to learn to reign in the demon that haunts me when disappointment comes. There are better things to have whispered in my ear than the damaging list of faults and pitfalls I so easily adopt as my own.

Someone not quite so perverted would probably find it appalling that, rather than being called old or fat, I prefer slut and whore.

I continue the search, I suppose, for the man who can replace the injurious rambling in my head with the smut I long for.

HNT - My First!

I've never done HNT because I thought it was a little too revealing, but I thought a little neck couldn't hurt. And a little tan line.

Notorious Is as Notorious Does?

I watched, for the first time, last night the film The Notorious Bettie Page. It's a little bit of a clunker of a film, but I was intrigued by her as a character. They depict her as being completely innocent to her actions and her surroundings. After having professed to believe in Jesus, she's asked by the photographer what she thought Jesus would say about the things she was doing. The answer she gives is either a tremendous amount of bullshit, or the most convoluted rationalization imaginable.

First, she talks about how each person has a talent and how God wants each person to use their talent. She even says something bizarre about how what she's doing is helping someone. (Now, don't get me wrong, dear reader. You know me and you know I actually DO believe her bondage and spanking photos are helping people. Perverts, like you and me. But we know this is not the view of the wider population. Then, even less so.) She goes on to comment about how Adam and Eve are naked in the garden, so....

I guess I just wonder how naive she really was. In the film they make her out to be a Pollyanna character. A church going, God fearing, innocent. And that, in the end, she did turn to God and repented at some Evangelical church in Florida. And, maybe that's what she did. I'm just skeptical that in the years she was making those pictures, she was unaffected by her actions.

Was she not dripping wet during some of those shoots? Tied up to the chair, splayed out for all to see (albeit covered completely by contraptions in lingerie), was she not in some state of arousal? They depict the spankings as being fake. The hand never actually meets the bottom. But did she yearn for it? Did a part of her secretly want to cry out begging to be spanked? Being tied, gagged and blindfolded was real. I cannot believe she was not affected.

In doing a little research I came across the Official Site of Bettie Page. I combed this site and nowhere is there a reference to the BDSM aspects of her photography. They have bondage pictures, but in her biography, and other essays about her life, there is no discussion of her involvement in these photos.

In Hips, Lips and Tits...It's Bettie Page, I found this paragraph:

Was Bettie really into bondage?
In order to fulfill customer requests, Irving Klaw required that Bettie do at least some bondage or fetish for all of her shoots (Klaw and Bettie were not bdsm enthusiasts themselves). For the setups, the tying of ropes was done by his sister Paula, a trusted friend of Bettie's. Bettie has said that she enjoyed all of the modeling she did, including the bondage scenes (as well as spanking, wrestling, whipping, dressing up in a leather pony costume, etc.), and did not feel exploited. So while the Dark Angel was not a real-life bondage queen, she did have fun posing for the pictures.

So, she had fun.

I guess we'll never know if it was hot for her. Even if it was, she probably wouldn't admit it. And maybe she really was an innocent. Maybe she thought it was just a little fun, a job that paid well, some notoriety, and somewhere, it was helping someone. I wonder if she ever considered in what way those photos were helping.

And the Search is On

As most bloggers do, I subscribe to one of those stat sites so that I can see who is reading my smut. I've been so impressed with the geographic range. From pretty much every state in the United States, most Western European countries, some Eastern European (the Republic of Moldova, for one), and much of Asia, Southeast and otherwise. It's exciting. Makes me feel a little international.

I also like to monitor the keyword activity. Meaning the search words people enter into say Google to find something of interest and my blog ends up in the results. Some of the search terms are pretty mundane, run-of-the-mill smutty or BDSM related. Others are downright hysterical. I thought I would list some of the more creative search terms used in which Paradise Tied Up was listed in the results. See for yourself. (I have, of course, added my own commentary.)

groped subway clit tied - I love the addition of subway here. The visual is great.
legs wide apart escorts - I figured this one is looking for an evening companion with particular skills.
mom tied up - Careful there, mom.
tied up dildo - Kind of defeats the purpose, doesn't it?
in my cunt waiter - I think we all want to know what restaurant we're looking for here.
oversexed finger on legs - Sounds like this could develop into Carpal Tunnel.
circles eyes masturbating - I just don't get it.
things to do while being tied up - I love this. It just makes me think of someone looking for something to do when they're bored.
tied up whore - Run-of-the-mill, but I love it.
foot mouth tongue toes licked - What's that kids song? Head, shoulders, knees and toes.
watch me masturbate - They hit the nail on the head, with that one.
towel door touch my clit answer moan fantasy ocean husband read - An interesting grouping of words. How did I end up here?
masturbate paradise - Yes, indeed.
tentacle skirt orgasm - I figured out there are 2 posts that, concatenated, would add me to the results for this. I just want to know the thought process behind this one.
my cock is so hard now! - Well, come on over!

Whatever the search term, however odd or quirky or unexpected, I'm glad you found me. I hope something in here can do the trick, for you.


Note - If you've read this already, you'll see I added one (second from the bottom) that I somehow missed before. I couldn't pass up including it.

A Night Out

I walked into the club on his arm and immediately noticed there wasn't loud, pounding music. It was soft and jazzy. Sexy. We walked over to the bar and he ordered us drinks. Looking around I saw people milling around, talking to one another, introducing each other, singles and couples alike. I noticed 3 people walk to the back and slip through a dark curtain. I wondered what was back there and imagined there was a VIP lounge.

As we sipped our drinks and chatted about the decor and how pretty the people were, a couple approached us. He seemed to know them. Not as good friends, but as people he'd seen before. We introduced ourselves and chatted about the crowd, the weather, etc. He and the man in the couple stepped aside for a moment and spoke quietly about something while she and I made small talk. When they returned the couple walked off and, following them with my eyes, I watched them walk through a curtain in the back of the room.

Turning to me he said, "I want you to masturbate for those people. They want to watch you." I looked at him for a moment, not knowing what to say. He had said things about taking me to a club and making me masturbate for a crowd, but I didn't realize it was anything more than fantasy used to make us both hot. He waited patiently while I integrated this information. I panicked, for sure, but also realized I was excited, and not a little, at the thought of that couple watching me.

I picked up my drink, took a big swallow, and said okay.

"Good girl", he said. Smiling, he led me through the bar to the curtain and through it we went.

We came into a corridor off of which there were rooms without doors. Instead of doors the entryways had either beads or strips of sheer curtain material so that everything within the rooms could be seen from the hallway. We walked slowly down the passage and looked into each room. There was something different in each one. Anything from a man and woman simply having sex, to a room seemingly crowded with people, some watching, some engaging in all variety of activity.

We came to a door in which "our" couple was waiting. The woman was sitting in her partners lap. He was clothed, but she had shed most of hers, except thigh highs and a push up bra out of which her nipples, hard and rather large, protruded. They looked up as we came in and both smiled.

My companion put his arm around my waist and gave me a little squeeze. I looked at him and felt a little bit reassured, but my stomach was turning somersaults. He walked me to the bed in the room and told me to take off my skirt and panties and shirt. I was left, then with only my bra. Once I'd removed these things he took the cups of my bra and pushed them underneath my tits so that they were bare and propped up. He grabbed a nipple and pinched and pulled it as he came close and whispered, "You're going to be a good little whore and masturbate for these people. They're going to watch you expose yourself and drip for them." As he hissed these indecencies into my ear, I nodded my ascent and became wetter and wetter. "Dirty fucking whore."

He indicated I was to get on the bed and kneel upright, with my legs spread. Standing beside the bed, with his arm around my waist and his mouth next to my ear he said, "Go ahead, slut. Spread your legs and touch yourself. Do it just the way you like it while these people watch you."

It was at that moment I realized what was really happening. Before I think I was in some kind of denial, or daze, but when he ordered me to masturbate, it all became clear and sharp. And I was suddenly terrified.

I looked over at the couple who had now turned to look at me, obviously expecting a show. She had her back to his chest and he, almost absent-mindedly, was playing with her pussy between her outspread legs.

"Do it", my escort hissed at me. "I know you're wet and want this. Just do it."

Reluctantly I moved my right hand down to my crotch and slowly began to touch my lips. I couldn't look at the couple as I did this, but fixed my gaze at a spot on the floor. Tentatively I put my fingers on my pussy, gently touching my lips and beginning to spread them apart. I moved my hand down a bit and pushed a finger within the swollen flesh and found myself to be so very wet, I gasped a bit. I was so humiliated at doing this, but my body belied my feelings of embarrassment.

Finding myself in this state aroused me even more and I began in earnest to rub myself. Pulling the wetness up to my clit, I began to circle what was becoming a hard nub of pleasure.

"Show off your pussy, slut. Spread yourself for these people. They want to see how wet you are. They want to see your pink slit."

As he instructed me to expose myself, he reached a hand over and began to pinch the nipple closest to him. And not gently. Pinching and pulling and digging his nails into my breast, he continued to issue instructions as to how I was to spread myself, to pull the lips apart, but to continue to masturbate. The pain spurred me to pleasure myself more, if only to counteract the degree to which my nipple hurt.

"Look at them. Look up at them. Watch them watch you, whore."

Through half-closed eyes, I watched as the man pushed his fingers into the woman’s cunt as she pushed her pelvis forward into his hand, moaning and arching her back to force his hand farther up into her. I could hear the squishing sound of her wetness. Both their eyes were glued to my hands as they spread my lips and rubbed my clit. Seeing their excitement, spurred me on even more.

As my left hand spread my lips wide, exposing all that hid within the folds of my large, dark labia, I sat back on my heels with my legs spread wide, and I imagined they could see up into me. My fingers flew over my clit and my excitement rose.

"They want to see you fuck yourself. With something big."

This last was said with a sadistic relish I had come to recognize and fear. I looked over and found in his hand maybe the biggest dildo I had ever seen. It was 10 inches long, if it was an inch, and the diameter I couldn't imagine, except that I had never seen anything like it. Covering it with a condom, extra-large I imagined, he handed it to me. Reluctantly I pulled my right hand away from my now dripping cunt and grabbed hold of this monster.

"Spread your legs wide, slut. Very, very wide, and push this cock into your cunt. Force it in, if you have to." Pause. "Or I will."

I put my bottom onto the bed and spread my legs wide, with my knees up and placed the head of the cock at the opening of my cunt. I was sure it wouldn't fit. It couldn't. I pushed the head with a small amount of pressure and it wouldn't budge.

"Harder. Push it in harder." He leaned over and with both hands on either side of my dripping hole, he pulled my cunt apart.

And I pushed. And, with a loud, painful, satisfying moan, the cock slipped into my cunt and slowly I pushed and pushed till it was in as far as I thought it could go.

"Mmmmmmmmmm. Good", he said, as he watched with lustful eyes as the dildo disappeared from view. "Now, fuck."

And fuck I did. I pulled it in and out and in and out, over and over, farther and farther. My legs spread of their own, my knees pushing up towards my chest as I reveled in the feeling of being so completely full. I became unaware, for a moment, of my surroundings and focused only on the intense sensations of being so full and so wet and the pleasure.

With my left hand I moved the cock in and out of my stretched hole and with my right I continued to rub my clit. Fucking and rubbing, that’s all I knew. I was full and the feeling of my fingers on my clit were exquisite. And then I remembered I was being watched. I opened my eyes and looked down between my legs and the three other people in the room were now standing around the bed, watching me and touching either themselves or each other. The sounds emitting from my throat, growls and moans, were involuntary and loud. The realization that they were intensely excited from watching me masturbate pushed me further into the haze.

And then two more people entered the room. Two men, one naked, one naked from the waist down. Both in various states of erection. My companion looked at them and moved over a bit to make room for them at the foot of the bed. And then he looked at me, and I at him, and he smiled that wicked smile. And I spread my legs wider and watched as one of the new men began to stroke his cock.

And that was it. Watching these strangers, real strangers, people neither of us knew even casually, watching them watch me masturbate in the most open and exposed way possible brought me to the edge. To the cliff. And I held it for a moment, knowing that the longer I could hold it, the harder the fall would be. When I knew if I held it longer it would be lost I let go and my entire body shook and shook and a scream came out of my mouth and the world was only this. I was slightly aware that my spectators also moaned and groaned as they watched me climax. And I found satisfaction in that.

As the shaking subsided and the glorious contractions ebbed, my legs slowly came down and moved onto the bed. He came to me and slowly pulled the dildo from my cunt. I closed my legs and curled up into his lap as he sat on the side of the bed. The men drifted from the room and the couple gave a little wave and left, as well. I just lay there, shaking, as he stroked my hair and whispered his praise to me.

“Next time,” he said, “they'll watch you suck my cock while you fuck yourself.”

Next time!

Her

She kissed away my tears as they ran down my sun drenched face, adorned by a red imprint of her hand. A tight fist full of hair pulled my head back a little more, pulled me closer to her lips so she could lick my cheeks and whisper in my ear.

"Are you sure this is what you want, slut? I can be mean, I warned you. Did you know how mean? Did you consider how much I might hurt you?"

I had no words for her, I simply shook my head as well as I could with my skull completely in her control.

I didn't know.

I did know.

Her free hand made it's way to my cunt and without preface she plunged three, harsh fingers into what had become a dripping mess.

Laughing, "I guess it doesn't matter what you thought might happen. Here's the evidence it's what you want."

With a sharp tug to tighten her grip on my head, she pulled it back a little more and pushed and pushed her hand into my hole, my legs instinctively spreading apart a bit more, my ass pushing up as she fucked and fucked me, savagely splitting me apart. And laughed.

Laughed at my transparent and desperate need to be used.


For G