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First, a little background on the relationship between my submissive, Blanche, and I. We've known each other for almost eight years. She trusts me, and I her. I know her safe words and mannerisms, and she knows mine.
That being said, the stories I'm going to share can seem a bit graphic—non-consensual, even. But rest assured that we are both fully aware of each other, and I would never do anything to actually hurt her or make her unwillingly uncomfortable. She is a friend first, and a submissive second.
Our kinks, involving bondage, objectification, asphyxiation, hunter/prey, and others, can lean towards extremes. But again, we know our limits, and what gets us off. Keep that mind while reading.
I have her permission to share these stories, given I don't use her full name. So enjoy!
*These installments are self-contained, and are in no particular order.
I think it was something it was something like eight in the evening. Blanche had stopped by with beers about an hour earlier, wanting to show me something on Netflix.
Some new animated movie that I still can't remember the name of. She's been a fan of them since I've known her. Me? Eh. But between you and me, I think me taking the time to watch them with her turns her on. Why do I think that? Because every time I do, she seems to show me just how much she appreciates it, if you catch my drift.
Fellas. Want more sex? Watch cheesy movies with her.
She'd shown up earlier, but I had been about to work out, so she occupied herself with some video games on my sofa while I did my reps. Having taken a shower afterwards, I'd come out to see her laying upside down on the sofa, gaming.
How she manages to do this and not lose immediately is a puzzle for another post—but I'm pretty sure her IQ is actually absurdly high.
She'd had earphones in, so she didn't hear me come out of my room. But between you and me, I think—though I'll never get her to admit it—that she wanted what was coming to her. Pun intended.
I've caught her laying on the sofa like that a number of times before. And on more than one occasion, it ended with her head hanging over and pinned to the edge of the sofa, and my cock pummeling its way into her throat for a good ol' fashion skull fucking. She's taken many a surprise load while perched like that—and here I was in nothing but a towel, and she has earphones in?
She was practically begging for it. And who was I to keep a horse from water?
So I make my way over, all stealth like, grinning ear to fucking ear. Just the sight of her laying like that was enough to remember what we'd done before. That coupled with the new opening had me standing at attention, twitching, even.
I'm inching closer, taking the towel from my waist and setting it over the arm rest of the sofa. I'm careful not to make any sudden movements that she'll see. I know if she spots me she'll make a run for it, and as much as I love our games of cat and mouse, I'm already too worked up.
I want a hot sleeve, and I want it now.
It's only when I'm about a foot away from her head that I swing my leg over to straddle her face. I remember her lashes fluttering, her hands—still holding the controller raising up in surprise on instinct, like she was trying to block something from being thrown at her. She only had her eyes shut for moment, but when my hands fisted in the back of her head, they went wide, probably in realization.
Her mouth opened, probably to curse me out, but her guard's gotten sloppy, and my aim's gotten good. My cock is spearing its way in before she can figure out which way is up, and my hands are pile-driving her face up against my crotch as fast as they can.
I can feel her gag and my mind reels. The predator is out, and my prey is starting to squirm. I hear the controller hit the floor as I feel Blanche's hands clutch around my wrists. I'm groaning at this point, roughly rolling my hips forward and jerking her head upwards until her lips are snug around my base. I'm hissing my exhales I'm so excited. She's gagging and huffing muffled protests. Her eyes are glaring, but her feet haven't started kicking—the damn tease.
This is what she does. She glares and protests and whines and struggles—fuck, do I love when she struggles—but she takes it. Loves it. She loves not having to ask, and I love not asking. We're a fucking mess that thrive off of the hunter and hunted dynamic.
"Gotcha," I pant. I'm grinding my hips against her face. Her throat is squeezing me, tight and hot, but I need more.
My grip in her hair tightens, and a moment later her head is bouncing off my crotch. The sounds of slurps and gags are mixing with pants and grunts and her hands have moved to clutch at my thighs. Her eyes are screwed tight, and mine are threatening to close, but I can't take my eyes off her face. I want to see when it starts turning red.
Her hands are free to signal me before she passes out, if she's not feeling up to it. If her mouth is occupied, her hands are free, and vice versa.
Teeth grit, feet planted, I'm going to town. But I know she's sucking in breathes when my thrusts draw back. I can hear the soft gasps, her grumbles starting to melt into moaning whines despite herself, and I can't help but groan in response. I love getting her off, but admittedly, I might love pissing her off more.
Pulling back a moment longer, I let her suck in a few gasps before screwing her head back up against my crotch and pausing my thrusting before I let myself cum, and I can almost feel her throat trying to bark in protest. I smirk, carefully sitting myself over her torso and pulling her face tight against me as I bend one leg and hook my ankle behind the back of my other knee, putting her in a headlock with a grunting sigh of content.
I might not be a stallion, but I'm big enough to reach the sweet spot at the bottom of her throat, and bold enough to relax while it does all the work.
I can't help the chuckle that bubbles out of me when Blanche screeches in annoyance, her hands clawing at my muscular thighs, though her palms aren't big enough to make a difference.
Now her feet are kicking. I'm teasing her, and she knows it. Loathes it. Loves it. Loves to loathe it.
Her legs wrap around my torso, the feisty sub I love ready to show me what for. But I hook my armpits behind her knees, expecting as much, and howl a moan when her follow up screech sends a vibration to all the right places as she starts turning red.
"Fuck," I hiss as I hunch forward, bending her body in half as my first orgasm blind sights me.
I swear under my breath. I'd been trying to hold out. Keep her like this a little longer. Blanche's body is writhing beneath mine, her toes curling, her nails digging into my thighs, and her throat milking as much as it could. I can feel her nose digging into my crotch from the position, and it makes my cock spasm a little more than usual.
Sitting up, I push her calves down on the sofa cushion, my shoulders hunching as I apply weight to pin them down.
"Shit," I scowl with a smirk as I start going soft in her throat, feeling it snake its way up until she starts gasping. Coughs and sputters result in my cum leaking from the corners of her mouth. And I think I can even see bits of it in her nostrils, which are flaring. She's pouting. I smile because you would too if you had my view.
She's still in a headlock, so my dick is still in her mouth, and I can't bring myself to pull out. In fact, the sight of her reddened and angry face are leaving me wanting more. I see a spark of question in her eyes when we both feel my cock twitch.
I glance up at the TV and the race that she'd just lost in Mario Kart and grin. Our eyes meet, and I reach down to get the controller.
"Be a doll, and work me back up. I'm not finished with you yet."
I restart the game, and she grumbles in defiance. But her tongue starts moving all the same.
Thanks for reading. I hope reading the past was as thrilling for you as it was for me in that present.
If you'd like to see my fiction work, which is just as sinful, if not more, check me out, here.