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.
About David January 3, 2012
Posted by Leah in Bondage, Cunnilingus, D/s, Fellatio, Fucking, Repeated hookups, Spanking.6 comments
A reader asked about David. This is how we met.
David contacted me on OkCupid, where both of us list casual sex among our interests. We traded a couple of messages on the site, then moved to e-mail. In the course of the conversation, I explained that I was a bedroom submissive in search of kink. I was seeking a relationship in the best case scenario, but would be happy to have a regular play partner. He preferred the latter arrangement. Like me, he had learned the ropes of bdsm on the scene, but indulged exclusive in private play these days.
On our first date — drinks and dinner — David and I hardly spoke of sex at all. As such meetings often are, it was a tad awkward to start, but we warmed to each other in time and lingered over dessert. I appreciated his intelligence and lightning wit. We took a walk along the river, and he saw me to the T and gave me a kiss on the cheek at our parting.
He called me on a Sunday night that weekend, and we had a two hour conversation about D/s. His views are compatible with mine. It’s a fun way to play but isn’t a lifestyle. It arouses me beyond measure to submit to a strong man. I’m a pain slut, who enjoys the powerlessness of bondage. The psychology of submission appeals far more than the paraphernalia. Safeword and condoms are mandatory impedimenta. He and I ended up having phone sex.
When we met up a second time, David and I negotiated boundaries over coffee and cake and proceeded to his bedroom. He undressed me and tied me up. My forearms were bound to my lower legs just above the ankles. My head dangled off the edge of the mattress. He had me arch my back off the bed and separate my knees as far as I could manage. David slapped my breasts and spanked my pubis. He beat me with a wooden spoon and with a riding crop. He stood on the mattress straddling me and dripped candle wax down from a height. With his weight on top of my body, he tit fucked me. With a vibrator inserted in my cunt, he ate my pussy to orgasm. I screamed pleasure through the panties that were stuffed in my mouth and the bondage tape over my lips.
David ripped the tape from my mouth, extracted the panties, and replaced them with his cock. As he throat fucked me, his hands mauled my tits. I was upside down, and the blood rushed to my head. I took his come shot over my face. He spanked my pussy again with the riding crop and made amends for the pain by fucking me to a state of euphoric senselessness. I came repeatedly and begged David to deliver his orgasm to me.
We have been quasi-dating ever since. When I am tied to his bed, he kisses me softly and whispers a promise to hurt me, and I whimper at the thought, but by the end of the session, inevitably, I am the one asking him for more pain because the accompanying pleasure is so much greater that way. Our friendship is not exclusively based upon bdsm. We go to old movies together. He is a professor — different subject, different university — and was helpful and encouraging during the job application process.
I met his other lover once. She’s a social worker, in her thirties. They were at a cocktail lounge. David saw me at the bar and waved me to their table to join them for a drink. She and I didn’t compare notes about our common dom, but I saw the rope burns on her wrists.
Farewell, lover September 12, 2011
Posted by Leah in Bondage, Buggery, Cunnilingus, D/s, Fellatio, Fisting, Fucking, Repeated hookups, Spanking.5 comments
I am back in the United States. I have two more stories to tell about London. I had my final Wednesday date with Amadeo. Frank came to visit on Friday and saw me off to Heathrow on Saturday. Both these goodbyes were tinged with sadness. I am friendly with Marshall, the man I have seen several times during the last weeks. Though we have out of this world sex, we aren’t especially tight. I am not broken up about leaving him. With Amadeo and Frank, the situation is different. I miss them terribly.
On the seventh day of the month of September in the year two thousand and eleven, Amadeo brought me to subspace one last time.
He took me in every orifice. Using my ears as handles, he throat fucked me. The saliva spilled from my mouth, falling in thick ropes that left a puddle on the floor. The tug of wrists wrenching both of my arms from their sockets, he impaled my anus onto his cock and battered my ass from behind. He pinned my wrists high above my head with one of his enormous paws, and while his cock pounded my cunt, I sucked and bit on the fingers in my mouth. After I came, he licked my puffy and swollen pussy with an abundance of gentleness. I brought his hands to my breasts while he ate me out. He deposited kisses over the water smooth pubis and swirled his tongue round and round the orgasm engorged clit. The pussy licking was the prelude to a fisting. It took him twenty minutes to squeeze inside. I couldn’t see it happen — not fully — flat as I was on my back, breathing hard, and clenching the sheets. I concentrated on his speech, and he talked me through the process of fitting his hand into my cunt until the muscles at the entrance stretched like a rubber band about his wrist. I was a mitten. I was a glove. My hair was swimming in sweat. I resided in a hazy and contented place with his fist inside.
Amadeo’s aftercare was exquisite. He held me protectively.
He took me over his lap and spanked me. The barehand blows landed over my buttocks in fortissimo thunderclaps that set my ass to rippling. The heat seared into the flesh. The skin turned an angry red. The muscles ached. Wriggling his hand between my thighs, Amadeo discovered a sopping cunt. In the intervals, he fingered my pussy lips and clitoris. He left no bruises but nevertheless walloped me until I was beyond screaming. Tears bespoke pain. But I was also aware that this could be the end. I will miss our nights together. Orgasm came to me in an adrenaline and endorphin fueled rush.
I brought a blubbering face to his penis and sucked him softly, savoring his scents and flavors, the heft of his cock between my lips, and the taste of precome on my tongue. When he was perfectly rigid and yearning, I placed a condom over the erection. Amadeo took me slowly from above. The cock imposed itself to the balls, then retreated completely. My hands tightened on his arms and shoulders, and I kissed him. He kept removing the penis from my cunt and slapping the shaft over my pubis. He painted the moisture from inside over the skin.
I went to sleep with the meter long chain that attached to my collar looped around the headboard of the bed. Amadeo’s recumbent body radiated its heat next to me. He had begun on his side, spooning me, with an arm folded over my breasts. We were both horizontal now, stretched out and supine. He took in deep breaths of air in his sleep. I fingered the cold metal links of the chain and shut my eyes. My pussy was sore from fucking.
In the shower in the morning, I took pleasure in washing his body. I rinsed soap from his underarms and followed with kisses. I used foam to pattern white arcs over his backside. I tasted the skin that I had cleaned. I sponged his cock and sucked him under the water stream. After the orgasm, which produced only the smallest spoonful of ejaculate, I extended Amadeo’s left leg and kissed my way down to his ankle. Taking his foot in hand, I licked along the arch. Fingernails scratched the sole and tickled. I sucked his big toe just as I had minutes before sucked his glans. My tongue flickered into the crevice between the big toe and the longer one next to it. I lapped at the top of the foot and along its sides. My lips left kisses over the pads of his toes. I pressed the sole against my cheek, and I nosed at the heel.
Once we had reversed positions, Amadeo held the showerhead and pointed it over my body. I closed my eyes and stood on my toes, wrapped my arms around his neck, and enjoyed the unhurried kisses while he soaped my tits and back. Bringing my arms in the air, he washed my armpits and flank. He rubbed in circles over my belly, skirted the pussy, and continued on to my legs. I propped a foot on his knee as soapy hands slid along the leg. He scrubbed between the toes. After he had rinsed my cunt lips, he pressed his face down hard and licked me. Turning me against the wall, he gnawed the flesh of my buttocks and the hollow of the neck where it meets the shoulder. He shampooed my hair with exceptional care. I went to my knees again and let the back of my head brush against his penis.
On the drive to the university, whenever he could spare it from the stick shift, he placed his hand on the inner part of my thigh. Rising to tiptoes, I wrapped his shoulder and back and hugged him next to the car when we arrived. We kissed, once, twice, and held each other. I waited for him to dissolve the hug. I clasped his right hand in my left and his left in my right. We drifted apart.
“Farewell, lover,” I whispered. Then louder: “See you around.” The smile reached his eyes.
I don’t know what I can say about Frank. The fucking was likely the purest sex I have had in London. It wasn’t the all night orgy some of our previous encounters were. We did it once in the evening and again in the morning. We did it in my flat, on my bed, over sheets I abandoned, with my packed luggage by the side of the door. It was funny. It was comfortable. We had intensely personal conversations and companionable silences. It wasn’t the least bit romantic. The sex affirmed a friendship, one that, I hope, will endure through the distance and the decades.
It will be ages — well, months — before my next rendezvous with either of these men. It will happen though. And possibly we will renew our acquaintance in bed. I would like that very much.
I will write another post soon.
Names I have been called August 25, 2011
Posted by Leah in Bondage, Cunnilingus, D/s, Fisting, Fucking, Masturbation, Repeated hookups, Spanking.6 comments
Bitch, bitch dog, bitch whore, ass bitch, bondage bitch, dirty bitch, filthy bitch, fucking bitch, little bitch, mongrel bitch, submissive bitch, well-trained bitch, blowjob bitch, cocksucking bitch, cocksucker, cock slave, mouth, cunt, fucking cunt, greedy cunt, little cunt, owned cunt, silly cunt, stupid cunt, pussy, used pussy, twat, scrotum licking twat, fuck puppet, fuck-toy, sex toy, favorite toy, plaything, glove for his fist, slit, slut, anal slut, ass slut, beautiful slut, goddamned filthy slut, good little slut, horny slut, kinky slut, Miss Slut, piss slut, pain slut, come slut, submissive slut, superslut, willing slut, urinal, whipping post, sub, whore, whore mouth, dirty whore, purchased whore, piss drinking whore, shameless whore, slutty whore, willing zero pound whore, ass, arse, asshole, dirty asslicker, little girl, naughty girl, bad girl, good girl, idiot girl, sub girl, three holes, come catcher, come receptacle, place where he comes, territory, marked property, possession, his body to use, his, all his.
These are some of the terms he uses for me — the descriptions in English anyway. The names are endearments. Amadeo may have unloaded half his arsenal of expletives on me last night.
He wrapped scarves about my wrists and ankles, looped a noose of yellow rope about the red silk on each limb, and tied me to the four corners of his bed. Once I was spread-eagled this way, he whipped my breasts and toyed with my pussy, using fingers, a vibrator, kitchen implements, and his tongue. The ball gag muffled my screams. The fisting was exquisite agony. The tension in my arms and legs when he smothered me with his body and fucked my long tormented and cock deprived cunt was unendurable ecstasy. I soaked his sheets.
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.
Flogged and fucked July 30, 2011
Posted by Leah in Bondage, Cunnilingus, D/s, Fucking, Repeated hookups, Spanking.8 comments
A reader e-mailed me to ask what it feels like to mix pain with sex. I thought I might use my latest meeting with Amadeo to elaborate on the experience.
The two of us were naked in his bedroom. After eating me out until my juices dripped from his chin, Amadeo used cords of hemp rope to affix my left wrist to my left ankle and my right wrist to my right ankle. With my knees propped up, I laid diagonally on the mattress with my back flat. A pillow supported my head. The blindfold negated my vision. My nipples were swollen from the clamps he had employed half an hour before. He trailed the end of his belt softly along the inner surfaces of my thighs. The touch of leather over the pubis was feather light, gentle, very nearly inconsequential. It floated over the pussy lips, barely making any contact with them. It almost tickled. Then he brought the end slashing down.
A searing pain began in the labia. Circles of hurt radiated outward as the nerves responded. I winced at the blow. My knee pulled up and my body twisted over to one side. The abrupt and angry activation of the nerve endings set me to shaking. Chest heaving, I swallowed gulps of air.
He gave me a few seconds to gather my composure. I let my weight sink into the mattress and spread my thighs open for him in acquiescence. I remembered that he had turned my ass purple the last time we had played.
This time the belt landed directly over my clitoris. After the cunnilingus, the area was excruciatingly sensitive. The hood may have been down. It would have offered feeble defense even if it were not. I screamed. There weren’t words to the bellow. It was a loud confession of pain and rage. My pubis burned with a fiery ache. I squirmed on the mattress. Deep, tearless sobs wracked my body. By exertion of will, I forced myself to take large, steady breaths. I stretched open again and waited for the next sharp blow.
Anticipation stretched out in the silence of the room. My muscles were tense. There was a tightness in my respiration. When the blow came, he struck my clit again.
I called him a motherfucker and a bastard. I wriggled against my bonds and curled one of my thighs protectively over my cunt.
Amadeo very gently eased me to lie flat on the mattress again. A slight, but insistent pressure against my knees extended the chasm between them.
He hit my thighs at the crease where they met the pubis and continued over the legs, leaving my cunt alone. This hurt, but far less than before. When he mixed in the occasional blow to my pussy, I could tolerate this pain. The sensation was not as intense as what had transpired previously.
Amadeo spit on my cunt twice and rubbed the saliva over the lips with the knuckles of his hand. I knew that the next blows would hurt. I gripped the bonds between my hands and my feet, steadied myself, and waited. Indeed, he struck the labia as I had known he would. He missed slightly, so it was a glancing blow rather than a direct hit. He corrected for the mistake, compelling my knees open, flashing the leather down from immediately above. This one really scorched. I sobbed under the blindfold without actually crying and shrieked my fury at him. He folded the belt over and strapped me again. Quite deliberately, the sting landed in exactly the same place as the one before. I spit at him — it was the only thing I could do — but as I was blind, missed badly in my attempt. The globule of expectorate arced onto my breasts. He hawked in my face to show me how it should be done and slapped each of my cheeks.
He traded the belt for the cat-o’-nine-tails. He swung this instrument more freely and fiercely, with less precision than before. The multiple falls meant that several places would hurt at once. But the ache induced was also more diffuse. Additionally, I had gotten used to the whipping; the nerve endings became partially sensitized to the pain. He applied the tails to the thighs more than to the cunt. He lashed my arms, my belly, and then my breasts. I squealed impotently as the cat thudded against my tits. I heard the wooshing sound, the brief movement of air, the momentary breeze on my perspiring skin. Then came the hard landing and the needles shooting pain into the dermis.
At the last, he used the riding crop. “Bastinado,” he said, and he beat the balls of my feet. “Boobs,” he said, and slapped the breasts from the sides. “Ten over the cunt,” he said and made me count. In order to alter the direction of impact, I heard him change sides every few numbers. His hand soothed along the inside of my thigh and coaxed my legs apart. He whispered reassuring words. The gentleness stopped at speech, however. He didn’t moderate his strength.
Whipping is an exercise and an assertion of his power over me. That is the heart of its appeal. I am tied up. He can do what he wants. I surrender my body to his violence. I do this of my own accord. By refusing the security of the safeword, I volunteer to accept the next hard blow. I embrace the pain because a man to whose dominant character I have acceded gives it to me in his generosity. I wear his marks willingly over my skin. I feel so alive as the hurt is administered to me. This is my submission.
The tears started at three. My nose went runny at five. There aren’t words to describe the agony and torment I experienced at seven, eight, and nine. Ten impacted me as a blissful release. The suffering was finally over. Amid the bawling and the howling and the sniveling beneath the blindfold, I also laughed aloud at the completion of the whipping. An overriding sense of accomplishment accompanied the conclusion of the act. I had endured. The pain had excited the nerves. It made me feel awake to the moment. It echoed still. The flesh thrummed in tempo with my pulse. I hurt in places I could not name. This aroused me.
Amadeo kissed me and filled my open mouth with wine. This aroused me, too. He unknotted the rope that bound me. When both hands were free, I plucked the blindfold from my face and threw myself at him. I bit his lower lip and gave him my tongue, taking his. Large paws cupped my tits as we made out. The outside of my cunt throbbed. The muscles in my legs were suffused by ache. My shoulders smarted from being tied for so long. My ankles and wrists were raw from straining against the rope. Small, parallel welts crisscrossed the insides of my thighs. (Evidently, he had applied the cat with greater vigor than I had supposed.) My pussy lips were battered and bruised, deformed and sore. These were minor discomforts now.
“I want you to fuck me,” I told him. I stroked his cock, which was mostly hard.
He fumbled for a moment with the packaging of the condom, then gave up and bit the wrapper open. Once he was sheathed, he leaned his weight against my chest. Opening my lips for his, I fell backward. My legs spread, and his body occupied the room that I had made. I grabbed hold of the shaft and placed it at the entrance of my pussy. Gravity took care of the rest. Amadeo penetrated me, sinking all the way in all at once. I sighed in relief and happiness at the sudden fullness of my cunt. The presence of cock gratified me. It was the axis of my globe. Raising the pelvic floor, I collapsed the muscles of the vagina around the shaft. My ankles hooked about his buttocks, and my arms wrapped his back to compel him closer to me. He fucked me with energetic movements of the hips and pelvis. His lips told me with kisses and words how beautiful I was. His fingers combed through my hair, which was soaking wet. He had not come yet. I had barely touched his penis during foreplay. He did not last long inside my much abused pussy. He lasted long enough to have me convulsing about his erection in the half minute before his own climax.
Short takes July 22, 2011
Posted by Leah in Buggery, Cunnilingus, D/s, Fellatio, Fucking, Masturbation, Repeated hookups, Spanking.7 comments
Catching up on work and life takes priority over blogging. Therefore, I have no long post to give. Here are short takes on catching up with my stable of lovers in London.
• Amadeo brought me over his thighs and tugged my jeans and panties down to my knees. I had to keep track of the number of times each buttocks was hit and say the number aloud. He confused me by striking the cheeks at random.
• After he came in my mouth, I spit Amadeo’s semen onto my breasts. It left a sticky trail in its wake as it ran through my cleavage.
• Face lowered to the mattress, I was on knees and shoulders as he wrenched my arms behind me and hauled me backward by the wrists. Pussy yielded to cock. One of his knees dug into the mattress. He planted his other foot to my face. I kissed Amadeo’s big toe.
• Frank stood behind me, cock to one side. He held my hair in a ponytail as I sucked him. While I deepthroated the cock, my fingers splayed on the outside of my cunt. The digits diddled my clit. He came over my face. The stuff got into my hair. Frank isn’t shy about his semen. We shared messy kisses afterwards.
• I clutched the yellow pillow and the side of the mattress. Frank clutched each foot just above the ankle. I stared up at the ceiling and took in measured breaths as his thick glans penetrated my anus.
• Fingers laced with his, I gripped his hand long after my knuckles turned color. Frank ate my cunt with ravenous intent. I came over his face, too.
Things that were in my cunt yesterday June 2, 2011
Posted by Leah in Bondage, Buggery, Cunnilingus, D/s, Fellatio, Fucking, Repeated hookups, Spanking, Urine.3 comments
Ben Wa balls: I slipped them into my pussy after lunch. They shifted and teased me throughout the day. During spare moments, I compressed my muscles to give the pelvic floor a workout. I stood on the Jubilee line to Amadeo’s place. The spheres jostled as the train accelerated and decelerated. Amadeo discovered the Ben Wa balls and extracted them from my cunt when he stripped me down after dinner.
A pestle: Since he had cooked, I did the dishes after the meal. Once naked, I wore his belt around my neck. Amadeo had me sit on the counter, drew my legs apart, and spun into my cunt the ceramic pestle I had washed. He had earlier used it to crush spices. The texture was grainy and rough. I liked its coarseness against my labial folds.
Ice: Amadeo placed two ice cubes into my pussy. My body squirmed and my legs wriggled. He forcibly held my thighs open as he diddled my clit. The heat inside melted the water, which he drank from me as he licked.
His tongue and his spit: Obviously.
Two clothespins: In the bedroom, Amadeo arranged clothespins in spirals about my areolae. The way they stuck out reminded me of the quills of a porcupine. Stronger metal clips with teeth attached to each of the nipples. He secured the clothespins that were left over from his set of two dozen to my underarms and my navel. One peg of the clothespin on each side of the pussy entered my cunt. He used the pincers to tug my lips apart and licked the fissure in between.
Three fingers: When he fingered me, he shoved the three central fingers of his right hand into my cunt. He stabbed them in and out with ferocity until I came. After the orgasm, I lapped my juices from his hand. It was only when I had done this to his satisfaction that he removed the clamps from my nipples. They were sensitive and raw to the touch of fingers and lips. The rush of blood inside made the nerve endings throb.
A steel dildo: It is our favorite toy. I enjoyed having its heft inside, the way it compelled my pussy to stretch, how Amadeo curled it. He nudged it against the G-spot and the anterior fornix deeper inside.
The metal buckle of his belt: Just because.
The middle of the belt: Amadeo folded the leather over in half. He wet it in my pussy and used it to lash my buttocks. I gripped the headboard while he whipped me.
A vibrating egg: While I sucked his cock, the egg buzzed inside my vagina. It had a remote control. Amadeo made me moan around his penis each time he ramped the setting higher. At full power, the constant whirr made my muscles thrum. The egg remained in my pussy while Amadeo’s lubed up cock occupied my anus. At the end of this round, I laid on my belly, pubis rutting against a pillow. The vibrator purred over the G-spot while Amadeo prised my cheeks apart and pounded my asshole. The belt looped about my wrists. Arms bound behind my back, he hauled my body onto his prick.
Urine: Actually, this took place in the morning. Before we showered, Amadeo had me lie down in the bottom of the tub. He stood on the sides, his spread open legs directly over my head so that I could look up at the split of his muscular ass and the balls swinging above. He pissed, directing the flow at the cunt lips, which I peeled open for him. A quarter hour later, he came over my face. My index finger applied pressure to his prostate to enhance the sensations he experienced.
Amadeo’s cock: Of course.
The fountain May 28, 2011
Posted by Leah in Anilingus, Bondage, Cunnilingus, D/s, Fellatio, Fisting, Fucking, Masturbation, Repeated hookups, Spanking, Urine.8 comments
He has tie points installed into the headboard and the footboard of his bedframe. He looped rope through them and had me spread-eagled over the mattress. Using first a wooden spatula from the kitchen and then a riding crop, he spanked my cunt. He struck the pussy lips past the point of pain and into a state of numbness. The blows landed exactly and accurately over the distended and exposed clitoris. I had asked him to do this to me.
Afterwards, Amadeo spread himself in the space between my stretched apart legs and worked his mouth over pubis and pussy. His tongue threaded into the folds of the flesh and teased the wetness out of me. He licked the engorged lips. His fingers reached inside and pushed against the G-spot. The pressure there made the clit stand out. I felt my spine elongate and extend while he lapped at the clitoris. My arms lengthened as I tugged at the bonds around my wrists.
Attendant to my arousal, the blood throbbed in the flesh. The clit trilled under his ministrations.
Amadeo would not let me come. He brought me to the escarpment and deliberately backed me off. He simply wouldn’t touch me, neither with his fingers, nor with his tongue while I hovered at the edge.
He turned his attention to my breasts instead. He licked around the areolae. He sucked on the nipples, bit down on the nubs, and chomped. The nerve endings screamed their pain. Lips gave voice to their agony.
Amadeo kissed me intimately. He looked down on me and stuck his tongue out as far as he could.
“Suck it like it’s my cock,” he said.
Lifting my head from the pillow, I brought my mouth over the point of tongue. I compacted my lips and kissed wetly there. Applying a loud and persistent suction that pulled the tonguetip inside past the rows of teeth, I closed my eyes and spun my face by degrees.
His fingers touched over my much abused pussy lips. He smeared the wetness that had escaped my cunt over them. Two fingers pressed in. He fucked them in and out.
“You’re not allowed to come without permission,” he stated.
Amadeo returned to sucking my nipples, far more gently this time. A pair of his fingers stretched all the way inside my vagina and pivoted within. The knuckles of the other fingers brushed over my pubis. Five minutes of this and I felt loose and wet inside. My muscles tightened about his hand. My ankles strained at the rope. My knees bent, and my thighs lifted up. Amadeo pushed my center flat against the mattress and continued fingering me while he nursed.
After a time, Amadeo compressed my breasts together and slid his cock between them. After a time, he straddled my head and gave me the front half of his penis to suck. After a time, he lowered his balls into my mouth and turned himself around so that I could rim his ass.
I craned my neck up and buried my face in the crevice of his buttocks. Nose riding into the crease, my tongue lapped at the exiguous ridges that surrounded the anus. He spread his cheeks so that I could lap more easily at the pucker. Gingerly, the tip of my tongue poked past his sphincter. He let me lick for a while, then returned his penis to my lips. From this position, he spread his body over mine so his weight was on top and initiated sixty-nine. His tongue circled my clitoris. He kissed into my cunt. The two fingers dug in again. He scissored them apart and slipped his tongue between the digits, which he fucked in and out while he tongued over slit and clit.
I moaned around the cock in my mouth and sucked harder. This caused him to redouble the exertions of his tongue. My saliva streamed down the sides of his shaft and made my face sticky.
“Tell me when you get close,” he said. While he applied suction to the clit, he also jabbed his penis against the roof of my mouth.
I didn’t have to tell him. He knew how to read my body and backed off on his own. He turned himself, crawled between my legs, and dedicated his endeavors to bringing me repeatedly to the precipice of a soaring orgasm. He brought me there, and he held me back.
I begged him to let me come.
He steadfastly ignored my entreaties. The look on my face, the desperate want, my needy pleas — these amused him. He brought a vibrator out and pressed it against the clit while he licked my opening. He extended the index and middle fingers inside as far as he could manage and rotated his hand at the wrist. He finger fucked the digits in and out swiftly and then returned to a slow turn while he lapped at the folds.
I stared down at him while he brought me to the ragged edge. I held tightly to the rope. My legs struggled with their bonds while I squirmed in my torment.
I wanted to come. I told him this again and again. I verbalized my desire, explaining to him how much I wanted my parole. I tried persuasion. I asked nicely. I requested him to shove me over the edge of this cliff to which he had led me. I implored. I pleaded. I beseeched. It was in vain, for he wouldn’t allow it. After some minutes, I stopped importuning him for consent. Rather, I screeched epithets.
“Not till I say so,” he insisted. He laughed at the names that I invented for him.
In addition to a change of clothes, toiletries, and a couple of articles of lingerie that he likes, I keep a steel dildo in Amadeo’s apartment. He placed it inside and fucked me with it. Initially, the metal was cold to the touch, but my body heat warmed it up. It felt extremely heavy — far more so than any cock. It filled me up. My muscles stretched to accommodate the unbending steel, especially when Amadeo angled it against the sides of my cunt. It was long enough that the massive rounded knob prodded at sensitive places deep within. To the reconnaissance of pussy, he supplied torque to twirl the metal inside me, which he knew I enjoyed. Mostly he fucked me with the dildo, using the strength in his powerful upper arm to control the depth and the velocity of the movements.
I panted hard. He diddled my clit. Looking down at my stretched out body, I focused my attention on my toes, how I wiggled them, on the grain of the footboard of the bed and the color of the oak, on how my legs stretched apart, bound as they were by rope. My eyes scrunched shut with the effort of concentration. Sweat beaded on my forehead and streamed down the sides of my face.
Under ordinary circumstances, I would have creamed hard repeatedly by the time we had arrived at this point in the evening. I could not come without permission, however. I inhabited a submissive place. I determined to play this game to its conclusion. My imperative was to obey his instruction. I would come only when he assented to my orgasm. I rationalized that it would be his gift to me.
Amadeo didn’t offer me his permission. But neither did he torture me for long. He extracted the dildo and laid it over the mattress of the bed. Cupping my tits with his large hands, he kissed me gently and for the longest time. His saliva lowered into my throat. His tongue explored the inner surfaces of my mouth and made my cheeks bulge. He sucked and nipped and nibbled and chewed upon my bottom lip. He touched the pussy lips with a profound softness and with infinite care. Not for the first time, Amadeo made love to me.
This interlude of gentleness was followed by partial fisting. Amadeo squeezed four fingers inside me and folded them on top of each other and located the thumb parallel and facing down in the valley of the digits. He turned the hand at the wrist and screwed the fingers in to their bottom bend. The knuckles pressed at me from below the cunt. My juices coated his hand in a thick grease.
I could have come at any instant. He needed only to give the word. But he didn’t. So I contained my orgasm. I was a bitch held at bay not by the ropes that restrained me, but by dint of willpower.
The bastard wouldn’t produce the order to let go. Instead, he rolled a condom over himself and provisioned me with his penis. He laid on top of me with the cock ensconced to the balls. He fucked my cunt with short rabbit thrusts. But mostly, he remained motionless over my body with his shaft embedded fully within. His massive frame crushed my breasts flat. He reached above my head and tugged the rope about my wrists. He gnawed at the cartilage at the top of my ear and spun his tongue around my earring. His cock lunged in and out in concise and punctuated bursts.
I gritted my teeth. I shook my head from side to side. I thought of mundane aspects of life to distract myself.
He didn’t complete. “I don’t come, you don’t come,” he said, and pinned me to the mattress with his cock.
He left the fuck unfinished, departed the bedroom, and returned from the kitchen with fruit that he fed me and water to rehydrate my parched throat. He sat on the mattress and read to me from Sade.
I needed to pee. He loosened the bonds and followed me into the bathroom. While I urinated from a sitting position, Amadeo had me spread my legs wide apart. He directed the flow of his piss at my pussy. The two streams joined. His urine and mine fell with a splash and tinkled together in the toilet. He pointed his penis higher and stepped closer to me. The urine fell over my belly and sheeted down my pubis. At the end of it, when our bladders had emptied, he gave me his glans to suck. I closed my eyes and took the crown into my mouth. My tongue blotted the tip of the residues of piss.
I went to my knees before the toilet and sucked Amadeo with a wet mouth and the consistent application of pressure. Droplets of pee dripped onto the floor from the lips of my pussy. After his thick and milky semen had barreled into my stomach, he ran his big toe along my slit, then helped me to my feet.
It was late. Amadeo said that he was spent. Rather than letting me masturbate myself, he promised to fuck me to orgasm in the morning. My disappointment was evident, but I acquiesced with as good grace as I could muster. We curled up naked beneath the covers and spoke in whispers. I fell asleep with his chest spooned against my back and one of his hands covering my breasts.
I woke at four in the morning. The latex sheathed penis fumbled at the gates of my cunt. My arms encircled Amadeo’s back. I raised my legs into the air and pulled him down by the shoulders. The instant he was in me, I was wide awake. The sex was uncomplicated. Amadeo pounded me from above. The shaft pistoned in and out with speed and metronomic precision.
“You can come,” he had stated when we started. He gathered my wrists in one his hands and lifted my arms high above my head. He kissed me.
The denial of orgasm in the hours previous left my nerves confused. I wasn’t on the edge any longer, and it took me long minutes to work up to a state of frenzy. When I was there, my pussy fountained.
The orgasm began deep in the walls of my vagina. It rippled from the interior out to the periphery. Every one of my nerve endings thrilled. First it was in my cunt exclusively. Then it was everywhere. I blinkered my eyes shut and saw the stars of the galaxy in supernova. Watery ejaculate gushed explosively from my pussy. It made an arc and sprayed onto his belly and rained back over my thighs and onto the clean, white bed linen. The penis slipped out of my cunt. Amadeo maneuvered it back in at once. He fucked me through the flood now. The liquid issued forth in waves and left the bedsheets sodden.
The inundation stilled momentarily. Then the paroxysms commenced again. My pussy spilled. Under such stimulation, Amadeo could not suppress his instinct to spew. The shaft convulsed, which set the walls of my vagina to quaking. The orgasm poured out of me one more time to match his eruption.
Leah Lays London 