Ending at the beginning January 27, 2012
Posted by Leah in Bondage, Breath play, Cunnilingus, D/s, Exhibitionism, Fellatio, Fisting, Fucking, Repeated hookups, Spanking, Urine.12 comments
The e-mail I sent him
Dear Amadeo,
I don’t know when, after tonight, we will see each other again. Unless you visit me in the States, it could be quite some time. You know that monogamy isn’t for me. It never was. I told you this before we met. But life so often surprises. I can’t make any promises for what will happen if we do meet up, whether we will fuck. Today, however, I can state with absolute conviction that *I* *am* *yours*. I belong to you. This may never happen again. It behooves us to make circumstance our bitch.
I want your company — in bed and out of it. More than this, I crave your dominance. I desire to be a girl possessed. I require your strength. You can punish me for topping from below — please do! — but I insist upon it. I need you to be rough with me. I want to be totally fucked by you. Use my mouth. Use my cunt. Use my ass. Use them just as you please. I am three holes for your pleasure. I am a slut for one cock only. It’s yours, Amadeo. You own the penis, so you own the woman. I am a plaything, a fuck-toy, the clay that you mold. I am your willing and submissive zero pound whore. I am to be taken hard and challenged. Be harsh with me. Do this. I want you to.
Leave your mark on my body. Beat my buttocks and my breasts. Pull my hair. Place bruises on my skin, bite marks, welts, hickeys. Sign your name on me with indelible ink after each of my orgasms. I want the evidence of the night to linger for days. I want to remember you as I sit uncomfortably in the airplane. I want other lovers to see what you have done.
Slap my pussy. Be brutal to my clitoris. Hold me down by the windpipe and tighten your grip on my throat while you claim my mouth with your tongue and my vagina with your penis. Fuck me with your feet. I will lick the soles and suck your toes afterwards. I will lap the hollows of your arms. Place your fist inside my cunt, twist it within me slowly, unball your fingers under my womb, stretch them out. Make your hand big inside. I am, after all, your fuck puppet. Have me rim your asshole. I will kiss your anus, layering the opening with spit to begin, lowering my tongue beyond the sphincter, slurping at your bung in the exact manner that you devour my pussy. If it is your wish, I will do this for hours. I want to please you so very much.
My vagina throbs when I think about compressing its muscles about your shaft. I am wet inside my panties. I touch myself and ramp the arousal to stratospheric heights.
Tie me down. Chain me up. Masturbate my cunt. I want to be on my knees for you. I want your penis in my mouth.
Piss on me. Come over me. I will wear your bodily fluids proudly. I will drink them down and thank you for the privilege.
I want your presence. I want to have your weight over my body. I want to be blanketed by your warmth. I feel small beside you and protected. I want to bestow on you what pleasure I can. This is my main purpose tonight, my sole concern. More so than the orgasms that render me speechless, more so than a ticket to subspace, more so than the memories that will linger for years, this shall be my joy.
I am an obedient girl. I will do what you say.
I know you will make me laugh. I expect you will make me cry. I will come so many times, with permission and without. We will say farewell, but we won’t say goodbye. And who knows what may follow?
See you in one hour, lover.
Your dutiful slut,
Leah
~
The last date
What I wrote happened, more or less. It was a third consecutive night of sex. But such weekends are the reason I spend an hour at the gym every day.
We met up in the early afternoon for lunch, and then Amadeo gave me a tour of his office, which I had been asking to see. Unfortunately, even though it was a Sunday, there were people around. We kissed and touched a little, but our clothes stayed on. I enjoyed learning about his current projects. As I had errands to run, I left Amadeo, did the things I needed to do, dropped stuff off at the apartment in which I was staying, sent the e-mail I quoted above, and proceeded out again after I had eaten a quick dinner.
I traveled to Amadeo’s apartment wearing sensible shoes, thigh high black nylon stockings, a winter coat, and nothing else. It was a curious feeling to be on the tube almost naked. On the escalator out of the bowels of the underground, the man behind me may have noticed what I wasn’t wearing. He followed me up the stairs at the end, being sure to remain several steps behind me. The chill outside made my nipples peak. The cold air swirled between my legs. The shivers were worth it. Amadeo approved when the coat came off.
In the bedroom, he had me read my letter aloud. Fully nude and prostrate on the floor, I kissed his feet. As in the past, he tied me to the bed and whipped my pussy with a leather belt. He fisted me also. He fucked me to release, but stopped before he came. I have related incidents of a similar character before; I won’t repeat myself.
The new ingredient was the caning. He has a rattan cane among the toys he keeps in the bedroom closet, but we haven’t played with this much in the past. Amadeo had me bend over and clutch my ankles. He stood behind me. Through my legs, I saw his erection wave at me. He tested the cane. It wooshed through the air. His hands stroked the insides of my thighs and spread the moisture from my pussy over an expanse of skin. When he felt that anticipation had assumed a sufficient pitch, he hit me. He struck the backs of my thighs. The cane landed heavily on the fleshy part of the buttocks. It thudded on my back. The pain at the point of impact was sharp and stinging. It made me yelp. Often, he repeated several times over the same spot. The skin burned after the fact. The nerve endings seared. Following a particularly fierce impact, I involuntarily straightened. The cane cut sharply across the side of my thigh. The pressure on the small of my back compelled me down. His steely voice negated dissent.
I cried. The sobs racked my body. My breathing became heavy. I thought it hurt too much to continue. But I bit my lower lip and summoned the will to keep going. He asked me to ask him to hit me harder, and I did this in sentences that broke through a cloud of tears. In the end, he went to his knees. His tongue followed the lines of welts that marred my skin.
He turned me around and looked up at me from his knees. His tongue licked along the slit. Amadeo positioned me over the bed. I was on my back. The nerves beneath me throbbed. He forced my legs open and raised my arms above my head. He didn’t tie me down, but instructed me nevertheless not to move. I knew what would follow. My hands gripped the sheets. I spread the legs wider for him. The cane slashed over my tits. He struck a dozen times, then worked the tops of my thighs. I screamed. He stuffed his boxer shorts in my mouth to muffle the sounds. Muscles in his upper arms and torso rippled. Though he tempered his strength on my breasts, no such quarter was given to my legs. It hurt immeasurably. But I wanted it. I could absorb this punishment. I wanted to be his good girl. Amadeo spoke in a soft voice that encouraged me even as the cane wounded. I concentrated on the regular, deep rhythms of his breathing. I closed my eyes and drew within my mind and entered a warm and submissive place. In the end, he dropped the wood and buried his face in my cunt and licked me gently. He sucked on the clit until I came. In the aftermath of the orgasm, which I kissed from his cheeks and chin, he fingered my bruised nipples. We chatted as he massaged my back and rubbed salve over my buttocks and thighs.
Amadeo and I started our friendship with an e-mail. He answered an ad on Craigslist. The fantasy he had proposed was too extreme for me, especially on a first date. The intelligence and humor in his message intrigued me, however. I replied, and we got to talking. His appeal grew. Amadeo’s demeanor and attitude engendered confidence when we met. Early on, I had the sense that he could become a regular dom. I am so happy that he did.
Amadeo asked me again about his initial fantasy. I am still not ready for it. So we negotiated a compromise. As he made the preparations, I spent forty-five minutes curled over the rug on the floor. He had me chained to the radiator, which heated me nicely. (He prefers a cooler temperature than I like.) At the lowest setting, a vibrator buzzed agreeably in my cunt. I wasn’t allowed to touch my pussy. I wasn’t allowed to come. I flipped through the pictures in an art book while I waited. It distracted my attention from the still singing nerve endings. Amadeo walked over, called me bitch, and ruffled my hair affectionately. The tip of a finger stroked between my cleavage and trailed on a downward trajectory to my clitoris, which he pointedly did not touch. He sucked my nipples and dangled ropes of saliva into my open mouth. He took a dram of Laphroaig and let it spill from his lips into mine and then did the same with fizzy sparkling water. I stretched. My pussy and pubis were pleasantly sore. I was more aware of the stiffness in my thighs and back.
When he had finished cleaning, he showed me water in the depression of his hand, and then he tipped the hand to his lips and swallowed it. After that, he led me by the chain, which looped my throat and was secured by a luggage lock. I padded after him into the bathroom. He unfastened the lock. The chain tinkled to ground.
The side of my face squashed up against the bottom of the toilet cover. He directed the stream of piss against my face. I closed my eyes and felt the warmth of it pass over my eyelid and along the nose and cheek. The color was a pale yellow. When he had finished, I blotted the urine on the glans with my tongue and sucked the penis to hardness. He slipped a condom over the erection. I turned. My hands gripped the porcelain rim of the toilet, and I braced myself. The cock entered my pussy from behind.
I trusted Amadeo.
With my head in the bowl, which was full of urine and toilet water, he fucked me. My face touched the surface of the liquid. My hair became wet. His hand pushed hard against the back of my head to keep me in place. He flushed the toilet. The sudden suction of the water below took me by surprise. The jets of water splashed my face as the toilet filled up. His cock pounded my cunt at a furious pace. My face was in and out of the water repeatedly. I took rapid breaths through my mouth. He didn’t hold my head underwater for long periods of time; I could, in fact, take in air easily.
Under the circumstances, Amadeo didn’t last long within my cunt. He gave a massive groan and came in my pussy. It took fewer than five minutes from start to finish.
I removed the condom and inverted it and slurped the semen inside. I licked and sucked his shaft. Then, I dunked my head back into the toilet, closed my eyes, and washed my face with another flush.
My mouth filled with water, and I sputtered it back out. I dipped my hand in and collected more water, which I wiped over his chest and groin and thighs. Amadeo laughed. He kissed me. His tongue licked my cheeks. He bit the tip of my nose. The water sprayed from me as I shook my head like a dog. I lapped the drops that had splashed the rim. He moaned when he saw this. The erection resurrected itself. He reached for me.
~
Philosophical remarks
Sex is dirty. Sex is vulgar. Sex is rough.
As I had requested, the last meeting with Amadeo was exceptionally intense. It deviated in an unexpected direction. I was a willing participant throughout. I enjoyed myself. Though the bruises remained for a week, I have no regrets.
Water bondage is a fantasy that Amadeo has nursed for years. The symbolism mattered to him greatly. With my head bent over the toilet waiting for him to place his cock inside me, I thought how terrible could this possibly be when he had spent most of an hour cleaning until the white porcelain was fit to eat from and demonstrated this to me by drinking the water first? It absolutely would not hurt the way the caning had. After it was done, I was happy that I had been able to offer him something new.
I tend not to rationalize sex and submission along the axes of humiliation and degradation. Amadeo and I can play as hard as we do because I know that he respects me. The discussions we have, despite a sixteen year gap in age and experience, are the social interactions of equals. We happen to have complementary sexual tastes. We enjoy kink and the D/s dynamic in the bedroom. Crucially, all of this is only play. I am not a second class human being for surrendering control over the patterns of sex. He does not make me feel inferior to him. How could he when he licks the water from the toilet off my face?
When Amadeo and I started seeing each other, I had a boyfriend in Boston. My great worry during our time together was the possibility that he was getting too attached. To preempt this and to maintain a modicum of distance, I chose to restrict our encounters to one day a week. I also made sure he knew there were others in my sexual life. Still, our relationship flourished, and the friendship deepened. To me, he is one of the touchstones of the city, like the National Gallery or the Southbank Centre. I can’t think of London without remembering the nights we shared. I miss him. For sexual fulfillment, for safe journeys to subspace and back, for sex as provocation and challenge and adventure, for kink as a lifeline, I am in his debt.
~
The next meeting
I have asked Amadeo to visit me in Boston. He said he would try to come in May. He also promised to be a better correspondent. I hope we pick up again where we left off.
In the meanwhile, I have David. We have met up twice since I have been back. He introduced me to electrostimulation. The sensations are novel. Over the weekend, he and I fucked until we could no longer remain awake, slept for a few hours, woke up renewed, and proceeded to fuck some more. My friend Ab, an irregular regular who teaches biology at a middle school, plans to take me to a swingers’ club on St. Valentine’s night. There’s always something. I keep discovering new dimensions to sex.
I’m a lucky girl.
For auld lang syne January 6, 2012
Posted by Leah in Breath play, Buggery, Cunnilingus, D/s, Fellatio, Fucking, Repeated hookups, Spanking.9 comments
Amadeo cooked. It was a five course meal: antipasto, primo, secondo, contorno, dolce, with a bottle of Chianti Riserva. We caught up over the meal. I had missed talking to him. I asked whether he has a new girl. He laughed and said no, but he is back on Craigslist looking to see if he can get lucky a second time. I offered to write him a reference. He hasn’t been entirely celibate since I left London, but then neither have I. With me, David focuses on bondage and, to a lesser extent, pain. I have missed the other faces of dominance.
After the meal, we went to the bedroom. Amadeo sat on the edge of the mattress and rolled up his sleeves. I stripped out of my top and my jeans in as sexy a manner as I could. I sat on his lap and used my ass to coax his penis to hardness. Amadeo shifted the hair to the side to expose my neck. His tongue licked the nape and descended to the shoulders. His hands cupped my breasts through the white bra. He undid the clasp and slipped his palms under the cups. His teeth nipped the side of my throat. The back of the thong covered hardly anything at all. The string bisected my ass. He pulled me backward by the elastic ringing my hips and kissed me possessively. The tongue in my mouth was confident and knowledgeable.
When he stripped, he wanted to whip me with his belt, but I asked him for a barehand spanking instead. I wanted the touch of skin against skin. I had missed sixteen Wednesdays with him. Moreover, I had missed his birthday, which was at the end of September. He made up for the lost time. I was over his lap for an hour. I squirmed. I shrieked out in hurt. I cried. His hand made the skin burn. The blows were sudden. He put the strength of his upper body into them. The solidity of cock under me aroused my pussy even as the powerful slaps to the buttocks caused pain. To moderate the stimulation a little, he rubbed his fingers over the lips of my dripping cunt. A wet hand seems to hurt me more than a dry one: there may have been an ulterior motive. I called him a motherfucker after one particularly hard strike. The next ones were harder. He kept hitting the same places repeatedly, to augment the intensity of the experience. Every so often, he raised my ass and stooped to lick and kiss over the spaces where his hand had landed. On occasion, these kisses morphed into bites. The skin was already tender. I felt the points of the canines and incisors. The endorphin rush was immense whenever Amadeo would recommence after a pause. He stopped only because his hand hurt too much to continue. I kissed his palm and the tips of his fingers. I sucked the digits one by one, slowly, as though each were his cock. I thanked him. I liked that his vigor had marked my skin.
In the morning, in the shower, with bruises still evident, Amadeo would fuck my ass. His foot would press my face against the tub while hot water beat upon my back from above and spiraled down the drain under my head. For the moment, he sent me to my knees.
My buttocks, which continued to blaze — in some places with a diffuse ache, in others with a throbbing hurt — hovered above my heels. Before I started sucking him, he filled the cup of my hands with his expectorate to lubricate their touch on his cock. I supplemented this by smearing the wetness leaking from my cunt onto his balls. Foreplay was brief. I hadn’t tasted his cock in so long. I was greedy for it. The flat tongue trailed along the sides of the shaft. I licked the underside from the pedestal to the crown. The pinch of fingers eased the foreskin down, and I softly kissed the glans. The salt of his precome instilled in me a condition of absolute longing. I wrapped my lips about the bulbous knob and lowered. My face rotated as it sunk. It wasn’t long until I had the penis installed deep in my throat. Pushing off from his thighs, I swallowed him repeatedly from the tip to the root. My spit waterfalled down his balls. Amadeo’s hands tweaked my nipples. He reached down between my legs for my cunt, which was sopping.
Amadeo found a use for the belt. He folded it in half and extended the leather against the back of my head and pulled with his arms to keep his erection ensconced in my throat. I fellated the cock until he came, and I showed the semen in my mouth before I swallowed.
If it had been nearly four months since I had tasted him, it was also almost four months since he had tasted me. Amadeo feasted between my legs, but he told me I wasn’t allowed to orgasm until his cock occupied my cunt. I gripped the sheets and held on. His tongue squeezed between the labial folds. He tugged them with his lips. He scratched the evening shadow on his cheeks over my sensitive, waxed pubis. I loved how his fingers pressed against the G-spot to bring the clit into prominence. He lapped at the distended nerves. The hood peeled off. His lips sucked hard over the nub. It was the points of his teeth that did it. When he bit, I shrieked. My ass bucked up from the mattress. The pleasure of cunnilingus had made me forget about how sore my buttocks were, but the friction reminded me as my ass slid laterally over the bed. My body tensed. I groaned and came despite my will.
Amadeo found a second use for his belt. He brought it over my pussy ten times in succession to punish me for coming too quickly and without his consent. Each time, once I had finished flailing, I caught my breath, thanked him, and in my best Oliver Twist voice asked for more. This made him chuckle.
Afterwards, Amadeo was beyond hard. He rolled a condom onto his shaft and entered me from above. A much missed cock attached to a much missed man plugged my pussy. I wrapped my arms about his back, and I hugged him to me. The sense of completion, the sense of fullness, the sense of belonging overwhelmed me. I wept. More so than the spanking or the blowjob or the cunt licking or the pussy whipping, this brought me to a submissive place. Through the veil of my tears, I beseeched him to fuck me. I spread a little more and enfolded my legs about his thighs.
Amadeo admonished me in his strict voice to ask him for permission to come this time.
He knew what he was doing with his cock. He had come once already, so on the second pass he could hold out on his orgasm. When I asked him for permission, he denied me. The first time he slowed a little to help ease me away from the edge. The second time, he showed no such mercy. “Not till I say yes,” he said, and he fucked me harder and faster. His hand covered my throat and squeezed.
Under his weight, I groaned and wailed. I balled my hands into fists and beat them against his back. I gritted my teeth and absorbed the force of his thrusts. The tears did not stop. After one minute or two, I asked him again and was rebuffed a third time. His tongue entered my mouth. My back arched up. My nails dug into his shoulders. I restrained myself from climaxing.
“You can come,” he said soon after, though I didn’t make a fourth request. Another couple strokes of the piston inside me was all it took. I squirted with his cock inside. The ferocity of the orgasm, a convulsing of the vaginal muscles and the release from deep inside expelled his penis from my pussy. The jet of ejaculate launched out of me like an arc of fireworks. After the initial spume, the waters escaped me like a river spilling its banks. The flood left his bedsheets drenched.
Amadeo laughed, and then so did I. He replaced his erection in my cunt and proceeded to fuck me again. My orgasms came continually after that. The little ones were frequent. These were small tremors in the vaginal walls and near the lip of the pussy. The middle ones were the G-spot orgasms produced by the friction of his cock in its slippery, sliding movement inside. The large ones came as sprays. The liquid coursed around the obstruction of his penis and squeezed through the circumference at the opening. Though less explosive than the first gush, these overloaded my nerves. It was an excess of pure physical sensation, but it was also an emotional release. I let go.
Time lost meaning. Amadeo may have fucked me for another half hour or it may have only been a few more minutes. His body tensed. His arms extended and locked and kept the weight of his upper body above my chest. I saw the rugged sinews in relief. He closed his eyes tightly, and his forehead scrunched in concentration. His thighs drove the pelvis down. His pelvis kissed mine as the cock imposed itself to the root. The shuddering of the penis set the walls of my vagina to quaking. I tensed and had one more orgasm of my own. He kissed me gently in its aftermath. The hair on his groin tickled my pussy.
Hard and pleasant use August 5, 2011
Posted by Leah in Bondage, Breath play, Buggery, Cunnilingus, D/s, Fellatio, Fucking, Masturbation, Repeated hookups, Spanking, Urine.7 comments
Because of work commitments, I only had sex once this week, with Amadeo. It was another hard session. This is how it went.
• Amadeo tied my panties about my ankles and had me kneel on the sofa. I bent over the couch with my arms stretched horizontally along the back while he flayed my buttocks with his belt. I screamed through the ball gag.
• While I squirmed over his lap, he held my wrists firmly in one of his hands, forced my legs apart with his thighs, and spanked my pussy. As I haven’t waxed since before my vacation, I have a soft cushion of hair on my pubis. Amadeo used this as an excuse to spank me ten extra times.
• We employed restraints that passed over the door to bind my arms above my head. Amadeo attached nipple clamps to my breasts and whipped my tits as they had so far been left out.
• Finally, he slipped his fly open to expose his cock. I sat on the edge of the coffee table and sucked him off. I was conscious of the ache in my chest and how my ass smarted while I fellated him. Holding the sides of my face, he used my throat for a cunt. The saliva ran in rivers over his cock. The fluvial excess left puddles on the carpet.
• Amadeo didn’t come in my mouth. He peeled off his clothes and fucked me in the ass. I was on the floor, on knees and the balls of my toes with breasts flattened against the cushions of the sofa. He had me hold my cheeks apart for him as he battered his way into me. My buttocks were an angry red. He slapped them again with his bare hand as he fucked me. He told me that he liked to see the flesh ripple.
• A few fingers of whisky, and we were ready to go again. I slouched on my back with my head propped up against the back of the sofa. My feet hooked around his waist. Amadeo squeezed my tits as he probed my cunt with his cock. He jabbed his fingers into my mouth. I brought his hand to my throat. He clutched my windpipe and slipped his tongue past my lips. I enjoyed the kisses as much as I enjoyed his cock.
• He flipped the condom inside out and tipped the semen into the cup of his hand. I lapped the come from his palm. I played with it, stretching long strands between my fingers and breaking them as the triumphant runner tears the tape at the end of a race.
• After all this, Amadeo rested. He reclined on the sofa with his head cushioned by throw pillows against the side. My naked architect leafed through the correspondence of Vincent and Theo Van Gogh. He read aloud to me while I sucked softly on his scrotum and penis. We set the alarm on his iPhone. He wanted me to continue in this way for an hour. As he had come twice, a shifting touch of fingers and lips allowed him to last so long. My jaws were sore. I looked up at him as he finished himself off by masturbating.
• He shot his sperm into my panties. He took the semen wet cloth and rubbed it over my face. He anointed my forehead with his come. It moisturized the pores on my cheeks. To consume the leavings, I sucked hard on the fabric and twisted it until I could taste no more of Amadeo. I decided I would wear the same panties in the morning.
• He ordered me to masturbate in bed. I did so using the steel dildo that I keep in his apartment. He rubbed ice cubes over my breasts. He licked the melted water from my nipples. After the orgasm, he had me do it again because I had climaxed without seeking and acquiring his permission. He kept me going without coming for minutes after I asked, until I begged. Taking the dildo from my pussy, he slipped the ice cubes into my cunt and lapped the slit. When he told me to come, I did so on command. He bit my clitoris. The sharpness of his teeth fused pleasure with pain and augmented the intensity of the orgasm and the volume of my screams.
• In the bathtub in the morning, he blasted the shower at maximum heat and full pressure at my clitoris. I diddled myself until I climaxed, remembering to receive his consent first. Afterwards, we fucked in the hot stream. I went to my knees and drank the contents of his bladder. He hosed me down with it, my face and breasts. I spread my thighs so he could aim the flow at my cunt. I washed it in my hair as though it was shampoo.
• He drove me to the university and sent me to work wearing a buttplug in my anus. It remained in my ass until after lunch.
Play in one act May 5, 2011
Posted by Leah in Anilingus, Breath play, Cunnilingus, D/s, Fellatio, Repeated hookups.15 comments
While I kneel at the foot of the bed, a man, my dominant lover, towers over me. He knots a blindfold over my eyes.
AMADEO: Can you see?
LEAH: No.
AMADEO: Good. You don’t speak unless you are spoken to, Leah. Do you understand me?
LEAH: Yes.
AMADEO: Good girl. Now open your mouth. Stick your tongue out. Say “Ahhhh.”
LEAH: Ahhhh.
The spit lands on target and cascades into my gullet. I make an ostentatious noise as I swallow.
AMADEO: Suck me, pet.
He feeds me his erection with purpose. It goes in too swiftly for my comfort. I fight against his grip and choke up spit around the shaft. My resistance is an exercise in futility. The head caroms off the roof and muscles a way through. The pressure at the back of my head forces his glans into my throat absent any preparation. I battle for air and cough.
AMADEO: Choke on it. Good girl. I want to hear you gag.
He fucks my face. My lips pout beneath the shaft. His big hands gather huge clumps of hair. I am aware of the tension in the roots as the fists pull at the scalp. A rope of saliva dances from my chin. It coats my throat. I make drowning noises. From above, a gob of his spittle lands deliberately over the bridge of my nose.
AMADEO: That’s it, fuck face. Keep going.
I struggle to take him deeper. My knees slide under his legs.
AMADEO: Oh, that’s it. Do you like it when I am in your mouth?
He points my face up and slaps my cheek.
AMADEO: Answer me.
LEAH: Yeah. I do.
My words come out in gasps. I pant, taking in deep draughts of oxygen.
AMADEO: Say it in a sentence.
His voice maintains an equilibrium that does not waver. It is uncompromising. He is the voice of authority in his bedroom. His words have an air of command, a ring of control, the aspect of power.
LEAH: I love sucking your great, big cock.
My hands span the shaft. I grip the base tightly and, in my blindness, find his balls and mouth them. The heel of his hand dashes my forehead. A hard shove sends me toppling. My hands land behind me to cushion my fall.
AMADEO: Not without permission.
I return to my knees and lower my head to him.
LEAH: May I please lick your heavy, hairy balls?
He slaps the opposite cheek. He captures a nipple and twists.
AMADEO: You speak only when spoken to. Filthy fucking bitch.
He has named me “bitch” before, and I don’t mind. This time, he spits it out with unexpected venom. The words hit me like a slap. They stun me into silence.
AMADEO: Kiss my feet.
I do. My tongue drags from the outer arch to his toes on one foot. I repeat on the other, and after that, crouch on the floor and wait.
AMADEO: What are you?
LEAH: A filthy fucking bitch.
The words come out softly. I squirm internally at the phrasing. My eyes well up. A small part of me wonders what it is that I am doing here. But the larger part accedes. I inhabit my role. A door opens to a submissive place.
LEAH: I am a filthy fucking bitch.
The silence stretches out.
AMADEO: What is it that you want to be?
LEAH: A scrotum licking twat.
I suppress a smile at the locution.
AMADEO: Hmmm. Say sorry.
LEAH: I am sorry.
AMADEO: What are you sorry about?
LEAH: I am sorry for speaking without permission.
He hauls me up by the hair, to my knees, and squats on the floor before me. His fingers play idly along the curves of my breasts.
AMADEO: You are not going to suck my balls. Instead, I am going to use your mouth for my cunt. How do you like that?
LEAH: I want you to.
He slaps my right breast, then he stands. His fingers press against my lips. I kiss them.
AMADEO: Ask me.
LEAH: Please, Amadeo. I want you to fuck my face with your cock.
AMADEO: Do you want me to throat fuck you?
LEAH: I want you to use my throat for a cunt.
AMADEO: And why should I do that?
He strokes my hair paternally.
LEAH: Because it pleases you.
AMADEO: Will it please you as well?
LEAH: It always pleases me to give you pleasure.
AMADEO: But you want it, too? For yourself.
LEAH: Yes. I want it. I am wet for it. My cunt is dripping.
AMADEO: You’re a dirty little whore. Say it.
LEAH: I’m a dirty little whore.
AMADEO: No, you’re not. Whores get paid. You do it for free. So what does that make you?
LEAH: It makes me a slut.
AMADEO: And just whose slut are you?
LEAH: I’m your slut, Amadeo.
AMADEO: You’re the thing I use to get off. You’re my possession. You belong to me.
The hush in the room extends uncomfortably. I wait for him to speak or act.
AMADEO: Say it. Say: “I. Belong. To. You.”
LEAH: I belong to you.
The words flip a switch. I am crying under the silk. My vagina accomplishes a somersault. I heave for breath.
AMADEO: Open your mouth for me, cunt.
He sends his cock into my throat again. My gag reflex is less pronounced now than before. He gives me hard use. I gurgle around the thick shaft. As he fucks my face, my lips become swollen. My index finger circles my clitoris while the glans sounds my throat. He notices and plucks my hand away. A claw tightens over the transgressing forearm.
AMADEO: Did I tell you you could do that?
LEAH: No.
AMADEO: Then don’t do it.
He holds my wrists over my head the next time, and when he releases his grip on them to bring his hands around my throat to constrict the passage of air, I brace myself against his thighs. Pussy slick fingers bat at his balls.
AMADEO: I feel my cock moving under your neck.
He squeezes my head, flares his pelvis out, forces his cock the whole way in, and he holds position there. His balls dangle from my chin. My jaws are spread so wide that it hurts. I fight back incipient tears. To distract my thoughts I stretch my tonguetip to the lip of his scrotum. When the glans withdraws from my throat, I bend over and wheeze. He compels me up by the hair. He seats his cock between my lips and thrusts hard and fast. I take it.
Every so often, he brings his hand down to cup my breasts, to tweak a nipple, to screw it around. Every so often, he cuffs the side of my face. Every so often, he punctuates his dominance by maintaining himself deep within my throat. Every so often. And then he returns to fucking me with his demanding rhythm. I emit a hollow glugging sound.
AMADEO: I am getting close. Lay down. I am going to sperm your body. You’re going to be my come dumpster.
I am on the carpet. I lie supine and look up at him from under the blindfold. He plants his feet, one on each side of my torso. I run my hands over them. My grip tightens over the ankle and relaxes as I follow the arch down to his toes. The veil of darkness heightens my other senses. I have his scent in my nose. I taste the spit in my mouth. It coats my neck. I feel it on tits and thighs. I am perspiring heavily from the effort of sucking his penis. Sweat mats the hair to my forehead. I hear his hand shucking over the shaft. His breathing intensifies. I remember that I should not speak. I remember that I should not touch myself. I break his rules willfully.
LEAH: Come for me. Give me your sperm. I am your filthy fucking bitch. I want your come over me. I want to wallow in it. Please. Give it to me. I need you to.
He continues to jerk. My saliva lubricates the movements of the hand on his shaft. It gives it an audible liquid slide. I know my words are arousing to him. His expectorate dirties my face. My fingers rub over my moist pussy. I transfer this wetness from my cunt to his feet.
LEAH: I am a dirty little girl. I am a cocksucking bitch. I’m a slut. I’m your slut. I am a willing zero pound whore. In your bedroom, I belong to you. Give me your come. Mark me with it. Show me that you own me. I’m yours.
AMADEO: Oh. I am coming, Leah. I am coming.
The semen rains onto my breasts and my shoulder. It streaks my face, and it gets into my hair. I release a contented moan. When he finishes, I smile out of accomplishment.
LEAH: Thank you.
I smear the come over my chest into the skin. I use the side of my finger to gather it from my cheek and lick it up. He sits on the ground next to me, also collecting the semen from my body. He gives me his fingers to suck clean.
AMADEO: Look at you.
LEAH: Take off the blindfold and bring me a mirror, and I will.
AMADEO: I am the dom here.
He loosens the blindfold anyway. I flash teeth, beaming him a blinding grin, then plant my lips atop the jut of his shoulder. My teeth gnaw playfully at the skin. I raise his arm and lick underneath. The athletic smells smother me.
AMADEO: Goddamn. Are you beautiful!
He kisses me, the thick tongue chasing his own spendings. His lips latch on to my tits, and he laps at the skin over which I have slathered his come. Before long, his mouth occupies the space between my legs. I clutch the hair, which he keeps short, and elevate my hips to amplify the contact with his lips. He bites on the clit causing me to wince, then licks and fingers both pussy and anus. It is my turn now for oral. It is my turn now to come. In his bedroom, I belong to him. My dominant lover takes care of his fuck-toy.
Three lovers April 18, 2011
Posted by Leah in Anilingus, Breath play, Buggery, Cunnilingus, D/s, Fellatio, Fucking, Random hookups, Repeated hookups, Spanking.12 comments
— 1 —
Wednesday evening: We proceeded to bed almost as soon as I arrived. After we had expended the initial impetus to screw, we prepared our dinner in the nude. I coated the vegetables in my not-so-secret pussy sauce. He spanked my breasts with a wooden spoon and probed the entrance of my cunt with its rounded edge. My asshole: this he stoppered with the cork from the chianti. Amadeo and I took turns on the table. We ate pasta from each other’s bodies and had a messy and splendid time of it. Amadeo took sadistic glee in poking me in sensitive places with the tines of his fork. He applied the serrated edge of the knife over my abdomen. He spilled hot sauce over my pubis. I layered the food over his groin and used fingers and teeth. I nibbled at his foreskin and sucked at the shaft. The wine stained his chest red. For dessert, I had semen in my gelato. He licked ice cream from my pelvis. He did it slowly. Fingertips sweeping over the G-spot, the tongue flicked carefully atop the clit. Tease and misdirection and a knowing touch conspired to leave me soaked, breathless, and precariously positioned on the precipice of orgasm, waiting for a push and the perpendicular descent.
Before coffee in the morning, Amadeo fucked me over the kitchen table. I laid on my back while he stood on his toes and thrust his penis into my cunt. He propped my left foot on his shoulder and licked the sole. His fingers combed through my hair. He gave me his thumb to suck, then smothered my mouth and nose with his palm. The resolute grip of his fingers constricted my throat. I anchored myself with a handhold on his hip while the spillage from my vagina smeared into the nest of his pubis and slicked between our thighs. Amadeo kicked off the wooden chair, and he fucked me harder. Rough paws mauled my tits. I raised an arm above my head and seized the side of the table. I liked having the solidity of oak beneath me, the way the wood vibrated under my weight when Amadeo rammed himself forward and bottomed out and reversed direction. My moans gave accompaniment to the liquid sounds of fuck. He hauled me from the table, up by the buttocks, when he came. The cock spasmed in the throes of his little death. I bore down with my muscles to wrench the semen out of him. Later, I lapped my secretions from the polished wood.
— 2 —
Friday night: I wore an emerald cocktail dress, with a deep V neck that showed cleavage and a halter tie that bared my back. The hem of the skirt landed conservatively two inches above the knee. The mostly rayon fabric hugged tightly to my curves and stretched about my legs when I stepped. It had a lustrous sheen. The occasion was a fundraising soirée for a charity for which a friend from the orchestra works. The conversation bent toward art and music. It was my kind of crowd.
A man in a purple shirt, a sport jacket, and dark blue slacks chatted me up. After the party, we unwound at a champagne bar. Hours after midnight, we checked into a hotel in central London where we had drunken sex. I cannot reconstruct the narrative with any clarity. Scattered images remain. I remember the checker patterned ceiling swimming into and out of focus behind him as he fucked me from above. I remember his head between my thighs and how I compressed the sides of his face in their vice. I remember tracing the tip of my tongue along the veins in his cock before looping a condom over the head. I remember dragging my nails down his arms as he slammed into me from a height. I remember sloppy kisses. I don’t recollect whether he made me come.
— 3 —
Saturday night & most of Sunday: Frank and I had dinner early in the evening at a Lebanese restaurant. From about 9 pm until 2 pm, we spent our waking and sleeping hours installed in my bed. When we commenced, I had an almost fresh box of condoms sitting on the nightstand. Now, the two last condoms in the whole apartment are buried at the bottom of my book bag. One day later, the scent of sex still saturates my pillows and sheets.
Frank took me in every pose. He had me on top. He had me underneath. He had me on my hands and knees. He took my ass from above with my legs suspended in the air. He took it hunched over me from behind. He had my buttocks with my back flush against his chest. When he needed a break to forestall an incipient climax, he paused the fucking to lap at my cunt. In my turn, I sucked him on my knees. I sucked him sitting cross legged on my bed. I sucked him with my head dangling from the side of the mattress. I sucked him pulling the cock backward between his legs after thoroughly devouring his winking anus. It didn’t signify in the least that he ran out of semen long before we had finished. The cock maintained its steel. The balls would shudder and the shaft would twitch. We kept going until it did, and then we repeated.
One of the qualities that makes Frank a gifted lover is his sense of the ebb and flow of sex, the innate knowledge of how to transition and when. He has me rutting on all fours, with his prick prodding my cunt from behind. His fingers stroke each of my flanks, brushing them from the hips to the rise of the breasts. When he penetrates and the cock fills me inside, the hands shift minutely. The heels of his palms press against the undersurface of the breasts. The pads of his thumb and index finger make tiny pincers. He squeezes the nipples and gently draws them out. The face of the thumb feathers over the sensitive nerve endings. The forefinger steadies this movement. The hands then cup the breasts and flatten them against muscle and bone, and he uses this improved leverage to slam my body backward against his groin. Then he raises me upright by wrapping his arms about my shoulders and lifting. At the same time, he sinks down on the mattress into a sitting position, and he lowers me over his penis so that I am squatting on my knees between his legs. After a time, he kisses my neck where it joins with the collar, and he presses his fingers between the shoulder blades to coax me prone on the bed. He extends my legs and blankets me with his body. The cock fucks without interruption. The tempo of sex hasn’t altered though we have cycled through a spectrum of positions. All of them feel different. All of them feel new. No matter how many times we have done this before, the sensation is unique to the moment.
It’s like music. There is a theme in the violins, and then the celli pick up the exact melody one register down, and they pass it on to the winds, who carry it. My lips are at the embouchure. My fingers are floating over the middle keys, and I am listening, and I am watching his baton and timing the entrance, and the harmony stretches itself into me deep down, and I experience it in a way I don’t know how to describe. There aren’t words for this. The music envelops me while I am shaping the notes. It creates me just as I create it. I am somewhere in its core. And I am not alone. I hardly know how I got to this place or where it is I am going next. I remember to breathe and keep on playing.
Breathing exercises February 24, 2011
Posted by Leah in Breath play, Cunnilingus, D/s, Fucking, Repeated hookups.15 comments
I met Amadeo through Craigslist. He answered a submissive for dominant ad with a fantasy about breath play. He wanted to hold my head under the water in the bathtub while he pummeled my cunt from behind. We haven’t done this; we may never — the scenario is so far out of my comfort zone that it orbits a distant star.
Controlling my breathing during sex is, nevertheless, a favorite game of his. I enjoy it, too, because of how it makes me feel: I surrender myself to my lover. The oxygen that fills my lungs enters the bronchi through his agency and consent. Amadeo clutches my throat as he fucks me with his cock. The pressure his fingers apply to my windpipe leaves me wide-eyed and aroused. He covers my mouth and nose with his hand and smothers me with an iron grip. He gags me with my underwear and has me wear the discarded black stockings over my head. He tugs at the frayed ends and tightens the winter scarf around my neck while I scream at him to pound me harder.
Often, the impulse to panic elicits an automatic response. My arms flail. Fingers clutch at his forearm while I struggle beneath his mass. I gasp. I pant. He has me drowning for air.
I feel light in my head.
I feel vertiginous.
I am floating above myself.
I am euphoric.
Last night, Amadeo wrapped my bra around my neck. The cups folded about my throat, and the elastic wound around. He slipped my hands through the arm holes and had me pull at the bra straps, constricting the passage of air through my trachea. I choked myself while he squatted on the bed. He grasped my feet, pulled my legs over his thighs, and dragged my cunt down the length of his prick.
He cuffed my cheek playfully. He kissed me amorously. His tongue took possession of my mouth. He ate my pussy and fucked me some more. My cunt detonated all around him.
A night at Amadeo’s February 3, 2011
Posted by Leah in Breath play, D/s, Fellatio, Fucking, Repeated hookups, Spanking.10 comments
I am behind on a couple of projects. I telephoned Amadeo in the afternoon and explained my situation. I suggested that we share a quick dinner, then spend the evening in each other’s company, but working, and proceed to sex nearer to bedtime. He said he had deadlines as well and a trip to Germany next week for which to prepare. So he agreed.
It was a domestic scene. Amadeo sat at one end of the sofa with his laptop perched on his knees, while I curled myself on the cushions, propped my head on a pillow, and read. He idly stroked my foot through the black stockings. Just before midnight, he closed his laptop and set it on the table in front of us. He poured the dregs of the wine bottle into his glass and drained it. An enormous paw lowered over my breast. We kissed as lovers do.
He stood me up and undressed me, tongue and lips painting over the skin as he removed my clothes. Once naked, he sent me to my knees, lifted to his feet, and undressed in his turn. He looped his belt about my throat and led me crawling to the bedroom behind him, a girl on a leash. Amadeo sat on the edge of the bed with his legs spread open. I knelt on the floor, hands holding his calves and feet, and I sucked his cock the way a submissive slut should.
Amadeo controlled the tempo of the blowjob. My head fit easily into his palm. He gripped my scalp. Fingers twisted in my hair. A thick stream of saliva spilled from my mouth and streamed down his shaft in alluvial flows. The saliva left streaks in his pubis. The expectorate dangled from his balls and swayed like rope. My eyes rolled backward in my head as the cock imposed itself into my throat, withdrew partway, and stabbed in again. Using my ears as handles, he fucked my skull. Fingers forced my jaws to open wider. The heel of his hand pushed at my forehead and angled my head up to enforce eye contact. A wad of his spit landed on my nose. He slapped the bulge his cock made in my cheeks. The back of his hand clipped across my face. He manhandled my breasts. Though I gagged over his cock, though tears welled up in my eyes, he pounded my throat, fast and remorseless with his penis. It was Amadeo’s prerogative to mistake my mouth for a cunt. I was left to my own devices, to accommodate the erection as best I could while he used me for his pleasure.
At the close, he wrapped the belt around his hand and tugged so that the leather tightened about my throat and constricted. He held me down against his groin and came explosively in my throat. The semen bypassed my tongue completely; I didn’t taste any of it.
When he let go of my head, I surfaced for air. I gasped for breath. My lips were bruised and swollen.
Amadeo wrapped the belt about my wrists, which he held behind my back, and blindfolded my eyes with a scarf. While I hunched over on the bed on shoulders and knees, he spanked my defenseless pussy from below. Retrieving another belt from the bedroom closet, he whipped across my shoulders and back. The belt slashed at my buttocks. I couldn’t see any of it, but a shift in his weight on the mattress and a hitch in his breathing allowed me to anticipate the blows.
I cried into my blindfold. My nose became runny. Still, I begged him for more. I begged him to fuck me. Bound though they were, my hands stroked his erection.
Amadeo refused my entreaty. His hand cupped under my pussy. He insisted on having my orgasm before he would place his cock inside me.
For a quarter hour, while he whipped me sporadically and spanked me with his right hand, I rutted myself against his left. The friction of clit and labia sliding on his fingers sent me to delirious convulsions.
Amadeo loosened the blindfold then. I rolled onto my back and separated my legs as wide as I could. Pausing briefly to cover himself with a condom, Amadeo threw himself on top of me. Still secured behind me, my hands dug into my back. My shoulders protested at the weight on top. It didn’t signify. It was the desire in my cunt that mattered. I used the muscles in my thighs to launch myself from the bed.
His tongue fucked my mouth. Amadeo bit my shoulders and neck. He squeezed my tits. He had come once already, so he could go on and on. He took me in different positions, having me as he willed the sex. My pussy shuddered around his shaft throughout.
He came finally, wrenching my shoulders from behind as he pulled on the belt wrapping my wrists, and collapsed on top of my back. We kissed gently.
Sometime after one in the morning, I laid in the crook of his shoulder. I held his arms over my torso and stroked them. He caressed my breasts. His fingers combing through my hair — this is my last memory of evening.
Leah rides again January 20, 2011
Posted by Leah in Bondage, Breath play, D/s, Fellatio, Fucking, Masturbation, Repeated hookups, Spanking.8 comments
I had sex every day from New Year’s Eve until I returned to London. In the UK, until yesterday night, I had no sex at all. The brief flirtation with celibacy ended with an evening in Amadeo’s company. I had missed his presence in my life as a dominant and kinky lover.
• I liked sitting on his lap and having him reach up my dress to stroke my pussy through the mesh panties. The teasing fingers over the lips made me wet inside and out. I lifted his shirt and ran my hands over his chest. The fluffy curls of hair tickled my palms.
• Amadeo shucked my dress up over my breasts and had me lean against the wall with my ass jutting out. As he spanked my buttocks, turning the skin a warm shade of red, he gathered my hair in his fist and wrapped it around his hand. Using the grip like reins, he compelled my head backward to expose my throat, which he covered with hungry and wet kisses. The points of incisors and canines bit into my neck.
• On his bed, first he fingered my cunt while stopping my mouth with his kisses. Amadeo let me taste myself on his skin. Then he tightened the pussy slick hands over my throat and sunk his tongue deep in my mouth while he controlled my breathing. The blood rushed to my face, and the shortness of air left me feeling lightheaded.
• He brought my legs in the air and shifted them apart just far enough to spank my pussy. The slap of the fingers over my clit made me scream. Though the nerves throbbed and the vulnerable flesh sang with pain, I secretly thrilled at the intensity of the sensation. I wanted to hurt: he knew and made it happen.
• Amadeo placed a collar around my throat. He squeezed his grip under the leather and dragged me across the floor. Attaching a leather cuff to one of my wrists, he affixed a chain and wrapped it around the radiator in the bedroom. I lay on the floor while he toyed with my tits and slapped them in between a succession of kisses.
• The tip of Amadeo’s tongue flicked at my tears.
• I loved when he finally undressed and let me suck him, shackled and naked as I was. Fingers shifting through my hair, he gripped the back of my head. The pelvis thrust at me. The front of the shaft sliding along the cushion of my bottom lip, he fucked my face with shallow strokes.
• Amadeo threw me onto the chair in the corner of the room. Neck bent, my head rested against the bottom of the cushion. Gripping the backs of my calves, he held my legs in the air. The cock stretched me open.
• A finger hooking through the metal ring on the collar, he tugged me up as the penis stabbed itself deep into my cunt. He cuffed the sides of my face. He struck my breasts. I panted and gasped as I held on to his thigh to balance myself while he fucked me.
• Amadeo turned me around and held my head down by the back of the neck over the wooden railing of the chair. Hands clawing at the buttocks, he fucked me from behind. His nails scratched down the expanse of my back. He pulled my hair, and he bit.
• Amadeo folded over his leather belt and swung it at my shoulders. The doubled over strap fell on the rise of my breast. My ass rocked backward against his groin. I wailed in the buildup to orgasm.
• We traded positions: he sat in the chair, and I straddled him. Holding me by the shoulder and the hip, he forced me to hunch down over his cock. I grabbed the edge of the bookshelf above me and impaled my body onto the spike. Biting my lip and moaning, I bounced myself over pelvis and groin.
• He squeezed a much abused breast, held the nipple with his teeth, and dashed his tongue over the top as the walls of my vagina imploded about his shaft.
• We moved to the bed after that, where he fucked me from a perpendicular position beneath me. His fingers tugged at the collar around my neck. I came explosively, and this time there was no respite: Amadeo continued until his own explosion took him. Peeling the condom from his cock, kissing the semen where it trailed over his drooping length and his balls, I sucked him clean.
• After that, he brought out his Christmas present for me: a heavy steel dildo with a sensuous curve. He dragged it slowly past my pussy lips. We played with it. We played with it a lot: the pressure sent me to squirting orgasms while he licked at my clitoris.
Half a dozen snapshots November 11, 2010
Posted by Leah in Anilingus, Bondage, Breath play, Buggery, D/s, Fellatio, Fucking, Masturbation, Repeated hookups, Spanking.12 comments
1. Amadeo stopped me on the winding staircase again. He squeezed my buttocks and placed his hand between my legs. I liked the contact of the fingers on my pussy. The friction through the layers of cloth made me wet. This is apparently a standard move of his as he had done it before. I enjoyed the attention from below and behind. I whispered that I wished he had touched me this way on the escalator at the underground. At the top of the stairs, he wrapped his arm around my waist and pressed himself against me. He told me to suck in my breath, and when I did, his hand slipped under the waistband of my jeans and into my panties. The back of the hand made a visible bulge as he tugged at my lips. Amadeo asked me how long it would take me to come from masturbation. When I answered that it would take ten or fifteen minutes, he glanced at his watch and chose the first number and instructed me to come. He rolled his digits over my clit. Three other apartments opened onto the staircase. I leaned my weight backward into his body and bit my lips to keep myself silent while my pussy sucked greedily at his finger. Ten minutes later, when he removed his hand from my jeans, I had not achieved orgasm. I was disappointed with myself. I felt I had let him down. Once we had entered his apartment, I apologized. He said I deserved a punishment, and I agreed. He cuffed me on each side of the face. Afterwards, I brought his fingertips to my lips and kissed them.
2. In the bedroom, he bade me to strip. As he lowered the lights, I offered to put on a show for him. He declined. Once he had dispatched his clothes, he threw me on the bed and thrust into me from above. My pussy hadn’t been fucked in a week. It was a snug fit for the cock. This was not gentle loving he offered. I had reminded him over dinner that I enjoyed breath play, so his hand squeezed my throat. Instinctually, my arms flailed at him. I clawed at his forearm ineffectually, swatting at the muscles corded in relief. While I squirmed and writhed under him, the cock slammed into me. His spittle landed on my face as he called me names. The sex didn’t last long. He pounded me brutally for about five minutes before coming. Once again, I didn’t. But the constriction of my throat left me panting for breath. My pussy was drenched.
3. Amadeo chained me to the radiator. My hands were cuffed to the sides. He found a rattan cane in his closet and angled my ass up in the air. His hands ran over the flesh of the buttocks and heated them with a deep massage. When he was satisfied at my preparation, he told me that he would administer five strokes and directed me to count them aloud. The hits came hard, light, medium along the backs of the thighs, HARD, and MASSIVELY HARD on top. I yelped at the blows. The flesh stung fiendishly when he finished. He released me and had me look at myself in the mirror. Red stripes ran along my ass, perpendicular to the crease. Though he smeared ointment on my skin, the next day, the welts remained. I felt echoes of the final two strikes when I sat.
4. We had whisky in his kitchen, both of us naked. I touched my fingers to the drink in my glass and anointed it over his cock. Bending at the waist, I sucked, tasting the Talisker from his skin.
5. In his bedroom, he cuffed me to the radiator again. He prised apart the cheeks, which were recalcitrant and raw from the caning. I recoiled at his touch, but he gripped me tighter and licked at my asshole. Once it shone with his saliva, he squeezed lube inside and layered it over the condom as well. He held the buttocks open and touched the knob against my sphincter. Amadeo ordered me to place his cock inside my anus. I shifted on my knees and clenched my teeth as I brought my asshole back against the glans. It felt as though I was being ripped apart on the entry. My grip tight on the restraints, I took a deep breath and forced myself to take the cock in partway. He held himself steady, but otherwise let me do the work. Swallowing back the pain of penetration, I seesawed like a rocking horse, sodomizing myself until I had the penis embedded to the balls. His praise was my reward. He used my hair for reins, and he fucked me. This time I also came. The wetness from my cunt splashed his carpet. I had rug burns on my knees.
6. In the end, we spooned on his big bed. I raked my nails through the hair on his chest and pressed his hand against my tits. The wet and sloppy kisses sustained me. He raised his shin against my pussy and asked me to masturbate myself by humping his leg. I obeyed. I peeled the lips flat and rubbed my clit from the knee to the bony midpoint of the lower leg. It took me a while, but I had my second orgasm of the night. After that, we went to sleep, me on my belly, with my sore ass pointed in the air, covered by silk sheets and a woolen blanket, but warmed by the man beside me.
Amadeo October 21, 2010
Posted by Leah in Anilingus, Breath play, Cunnilingus, D/s, Masturbation, Repeated hookups, Spanking.10 comments
I met up with Amadeo, the man from Sunday, a second time last night. He has style.
• His apartment is located on the third floor and is reached via winding stairs from the level below. He followed me up. Because he had mentioned that he liked women wearing high heels, I had worn them, which I don’t normally do. The steps exaggerated the sway of my ass. Halfway up the flight, Amadeo reached his hand between my legs. Fingertips extended to the pubis, his palm cupped the curve of the perineum, while the heel and the wrist rested on the upward swerve of the buttocks. I stopped with the feet on different steps and clutched the railing while he looked up at me from below and stroked my pussy through the tight fitting black denim jeans. When he tugged the waistband of the panties up from behind, the covering over my cunt jammed into the slit. I liked the press of his fingers against the fabric, how the cloth indented and folded and bowed and disclosed to his touch the shape of my furrow. I liked the press of his lips to my ass, how he shook his head from side to side and rubbed his nose at me.
• Amadeo took me on a whisky tour of Islay. Ardbeg, Bunnahabhain, Caol Ila, Lagavulin, Laphroaig: the sounds are as exotic and dark on my tongue as the tastes. Each time, he took a sip from his glass and explained to me what he experienced on his palate. Then he had me drink. Beneath the overpowering smoke and the smell of peat, I recognized the delicate undercurrents of spices and berries and woods and fruits and the scent of flowers and the sea. A drop of water in the dram exposed still more layers of flavor beneath. In the end, Amadeo took an immense swallow of the seventeen year Ardbeg, which was distilled when I was no more than eight and playing made up games with girls whose last names I no longer remember and running from boys who tried to catch me on the playground instead of hurling myself headlong toward them as I would do in the seasons that followed. He tilted my head and kissed me, spilling the whisky from his mouth into mine — along with his tongue, of course. I reclined into the cushions of the sofa, sinking to my side and then lowering myself horizontal so that his massive frame fell atop me. The kisses continued without pause. He gripped me by the throat, the strong fingers depressing the skin and muscle, the clutch of the hand constricting my breathing while his lips muffled my voice.
• When he had finished undressing me, he wadded my thong into a ball and stuffed it into my cunt. He let it remain there, leaving me full inside, while he sprawled on the floor and licked my lips and diddled my clit. I was ready to shatter after a few short minutes of the softly insistent tongue, the silky saliva, the pads of the fingers holding the pubis taut, and the pincers of his nails and his pointed teeth, but, as he refused me permission to let go, I closed my eyes and fought the orgasm back. Hands balled into fists, I beat at the carpet as I restrained the force that yearned to burst. It was a long ten minutes before he gave me his consent. He counted the ticks off one by one, all the while working me with his lips and fingers, until, at last, he acceded to the increasingly urgent pleas, the moans, and the tears. It’s what I deserve for telling him that there are times when orgasm denial causes me to fountain, and though this time it didn’t, the orgasm nevertheless shredded through my insides and ripped me apart. Afterwards, he stole his forefinger and thumb into the ruins of the cunt and ripped the cloth from my pussy with a sharp tug. The movement set me off again. The waters of orgasm had drenched the fabric, turning the vivid scarlet a dark and deep burgundy. He had me hold my mouth wide open and stick out my tongue while he wrung the drops of wetness from the cloth for me to drink.
• He sat on the sofa and stroked my breasts and face with his feet. I tasted the thick skin of the dusky soles, and sucked his toes five at a time.
• Amadeo painted my ass crimson with his bare hand while I stretched myself over his lap and squirmed and sobbed. After the spanking, he bit my buttocks. He ran his tongue over the marks of his teeth and kissed the raw flesh to soothe the anguished nerves. My red eyes and runny nose were artifacts of the past as the lips migrated from the rump to the shadowed valley between the hills. He had me hanging from the sofa, head pointed to the ground, my face reddening with the rush of blood, while his hands stretched my asshole open. Lips teased the creased halo of muscle. Cords of spit lowered into the winking anus. My sphincter gripped his tongue.
All this pleasure he gave me, and I have not once, until now, mentioned that magnificent cock!
Leah Lays London 