“How do you feel?” he asked after we’d signed in and had gotten sodas. I was sitting on his lap on a bar stool and could feel his hardness beneath me. I knew what he was really asking: Was I nervous, bored, aroused? Did I want to simply watch or partake? Now that I was here, in a space that was not just mine, but ours, I wanted to make the most of it, to show off just how horny he made me when he took me over his knee.
I turned to him and raised any eyebrow. “I want to be a bad girl.”
Phil’s hand slid down to my ass, massaging it, lifting up my skirt and placing his hand under my panties. I’d worn them only to make sure I didn’t drip onto the leather seat of his car. “How bad do you want to be? How hard of a spanking do you need, Christine?”
I whimpered; I felt heads turn when he said that. It had been a long time since anyone at these events had seen me, let alone seen me get spanked, and, truth be told, I didn’t have half the chemistry with any of my previous boyfriends as I did with Phil.
“Or do you want me to answer that?” he continued. I nodded. “You want me to tell you that you’re the naughtiest girl in the room, and that you need more than my hand tonight? You want me to take off my belt and make you give it a kiss, and then slice it in the air so everyone can hear?” I gulped, feeling tears racing to my eyes. I bit my lip and swallowed hard, nodding again. “You want me to strike your ass hard, show them all what you can take, what your pretty bottom looks like after it’s been beaten?”
Phil was certainly not the shy boy I’d feared he was at first. Once he’d gotten into being my dom, he’d taken to it brilliantly, so much so that I wondered how he held those two sides of himself in: the sweet, considerate Phil and the mean, stern, top Phil. I guess the same way I did, able to be a ballbuster at work when I needed to but wanting to take orders and get naked on command within our relationship.
“I’m going to make you do something for me, first, though, Christine. You don’t just get to beg to be spanked and have it happen, not with me. I’m going to find a man whose cock I want you to suck. I know how much you love getting on your knees and taking a big, fat cock all the way down between those pretty lips, don’t you?”
“Yes,” I managed, because it was true. I do love going down on a man; I love everything about it. I don’t know why, exactly, but giving a blowjob makes me feel so sexy, and makes my pussy want to explode. Even more than the prospect of being watched while I sucked a stranger’s cock, though, was my excitement at having Phil be the one to choose the man.
“Good. Now I’m going to put this on you to signify that you’re mine for the night, and you’re going to take everything else off,” he said, pulling a collar from his jeans pocket. It was almost like a necklace, except it came with a chain.
“Can you do that for me, Christine?” He leaned down and whispered, giving me a final chance to back off, to settle into safe, familiar territory. But that wasn’t what I wanted, not when I knew the thrilling promise that waited for me on the other end of the chain.
“Yes, sir,” I said, and this time, it was Phil who took my clothes off. No matter how many sex parties I attend, I’ll never get used to the sensation of being totally bare, wearing just my birthday suit, brown skin gleaming, nipples high and alert, in a room full of people. It’s like the world’s gone topsy-turvy, even if there are other bare folks of all colors around us. It’s freeing in a way even the most risqué clothes can never be, and as Phil slipped the collar around my neck, I felt myself relax into sub mode.
I trusted him, and was suddenly hungry for whatever cock he was going to pick out for me. If I knew Phil, it was going to be big. “On your knees,” he said, and I immediately got in position, crawling after him, knowing everyone could see me like this. It was a risk, to so boldly claim this side of me, but I knew I was among friends, or at least, friendly perverts.
I followed Phil into a room where the sounds and smells of sex permeated the air. “Hello,” I heard Phil say. “This is my sub, Christine, and she’s looking for a cock to suck. She’s very good, I can assure you.” Hearing myself talked about in the third person sent a wave of desire through me; my pussy got even wetter. It sank in, at that moment, that I’d literally given Phil the power to select which man I’d wrap my lips around.
“I could handle that,” the man said, and then I felt something being slipped over my eyes. Phil had blindfolded me, so I wouldn’t even get to experience the pleasure of watching the cock I was about to devour. Yet, even as he took away this joy, he gave me another, the joy of pure devotion. I was trusting him with more and more as this party went on.
“Show him a good time, Christine. Show him what a good cocksucker you are, and you’ll get a very special spanking,” Phil whispered in my ear. I didn’t know the man’s name or anything about him, just that suddenly his hard cock was before my lips. I opened them instinctively, having to stretch wide to accommodate him. Then I felt something unexpected: a man who I thought was Phil pressing against my pussy!
All of a sudden, Phil’s cock was deep inside me, and I was being pushed forward against mystery man’s large shaft. I focused completely on taking it down my throat and moaned against him. His hand moved to my cheek; at first I cringed but he was being gentle, urging me on. I smiled as best I could with a cock in my mouth because this is what these parties are all about: the unexpected, the new, the wanton. They’re about doing things I couldn’t even conceive of at home when it’s just me and Phil, cozy and intimate. Getting fucked by two cocks at once, while I was collared and blindfolded, was intimate in its own way, though. I realized that as I came, shaking and trembling, while the man I loved and a man I might never even meet, used me.
“Party on, man,” the guy said to Phil as he thrust into my mouth. I shivered because I knew now I’d get the beating I’d been promised with Phil’s perfectly vicious, beautiful belt. Party on. Exactly.
Mea Culpa
Zane
This is my confession.
I’ll admit it. I used to be one of the main people talking shit about trifling-ass men and how they can never manage to keep their dicks in their pants. All of my girlfriends, aunts, and female cousins had a variety of dogs lying up in their cribs. My aunt Delores had a black and tan coonhound named Thomas. Black hair, tan skin. He was powerful and agile, at times outgoing and stable, but when it came to keeping his dick in his pants, he was aggressive and vicious. He had something crazy like five kids outside of their eight-year relationship. I wondered when the hell he had time to fuck her if he was doing all that raw-dogging.
My cousin Sheila had a Brazilian Terrier named Davi, imported straight from Santa Catarina—they met while she was on vacation in Brazil. Once she moved his ass to the States, he became restless and started hunting small game, a.k.a. petite, thirsty chicks. Three weeks after she helped him obtain his green card, he left her for a four-foot-eleven, 90-pound, nineteen-year-old who, according to him, didn’t have a gag reflex while sucking his dick like Sheila did. Can you imagine a man coming home and saying some shit like that while he is packing? He wouldn’t have had to pack shit up in my crib; I would have tossed his ass right out the damn window!
Then there was the Alaskan Malamute my best friend, Judy, had on a leash for a hot second. She assumed that since his well-muscled, heavy-bone behind had spent his early years out in the middle of nowhere, chilling in igloos and riding bobsleds to school, that he would be devoted and trustworthy. Not! He was the alpha male of all motherfucking alpha males and when she bored him, he was prone to aggression. In other words, he started beating her ass. Now, by this point, she was completely dick-whipped and no one could tell her a thing about her relationship without practically getting their head snapped clean off. I spoke my mind once and left the entire display of “fuckery” alone. I loved my girl but if she wanted to deal with Kuvageegai—hell of a name, right?—instead of sending his ass back home to hunt seals, it was on her.
Eventually, Judy learned her lesson; they all did. They ended u
p jumping from man to man, looking for that pipe dream of a financially and mentally stable soul mate that would be exclusive to their pussies. I used to believe in fairy tales, too—for a hot minute. But I came to my senses after I went through a quick, successive series of breeds—a Boston Terrier, an Australian Kelpie, and a Chesapeake Bay Retriever. Then I decided I simply wanted to go to work every day, make a good life for myself, and fuck whom I wanted when I wanted.
However, even that should have had its limits and it’s the reason why I need to confess. After Judy got rid of “the motherfucker with the long-ass name,” she went through about nine or ten guys and then ended up shacking, within a matter of months, with William. Now, William had it going on, in all areas. He was about six foot two and beautiful, way past handsome. I couldn’t even call him that. He had this smooth, dark skin that was like being gifted a year’s worth of Godiva Chocolates. He had this kinky, black hair that screamed for a sister to run her hands through it. And, most important, it was obvious that he was hung like a barnacle. Yes, a barnacle. Most women go around bragging about how their men are hung like horses or mules, but check this out. They’re not even in the top of the game. Damn shame I know this, but the barnacle has the biggest dick of any animal, followed by the Argentine blue-bill duck, a banana slug, a greater hooked squid, an African elephant, Colymbosathon ecplecticos, and a blue whale. Okay, so I was bored one day and looked that shit up. If I was going to be giving brothers mad props, I decided to get my knowledge straight.
Anyway, Judy had William, who was hung like a barnacle, and I was mad jealous. And I never got jealous. I’m not even sure how that happened, other than I was over their place one day, in the kitchen helping Judy peel some red potatoes to boil and mash for dinner, and that’s when I saw him; saw it. He was sitting on the sofa, at a good vantage point from where I was standing, drinking a beer while ESPN was playing, and staring dead at me. I almost cut my finger off with the potato peeler, I was so distracted by his mesmerizing eyes.
Our eyes locked while Judy was busy singing “We Found Love” by Rihanna. Little did I realize then that, like Rihanna, I was about to find love in a hopeless place. William broke our gaze and lowered his eyes to his crotch. I followed them and his dick was bouncing up and down in his pants like it had a mind of its own. Then again, I guess all men’s dicks have minds of their own. His was speaking to me … in tongues. It was calling my name, beckoning me to it and, if I hadn’t quickly regained my senses, I would’ve been over on that sofa in thirty seconds, ripping it out, and swallowing as much of it as I could cram into my mouth.
Somehow, we managed to get through dinner and then Judy and I went into the basement, curled up in a couple of throws, and watched two tearjerkers—Beaches and Imitation of Life—together, as we always did. It felt good to cry together during movies about women who had much bigger issues than us and managed to overcome them. It helped us keep things in perspective when horrific things happened, like our Facebook or Twitter accounts being locked for twenty-four hours because we requested too many friends or “twatchers,” or the nail salon having a two-hour waiting list for pedicures.
Judy dozed off halfway through The Stoning of Soraya M. and I realized that she was out for the night. There are people who sleep lightly and can be awakened by a moth pissing on a cotton ball inside the drywall and others who sleep so hard that someone would have to slam their heads with a hammer three or four times to get their attention. Judy was one of those.
I should have kept my ass right down there and finished watching the movie, or I could have taken my ass home but … I heard William rattling some pans around in the kitchen. Damn, was hung like a barnacle and did dishes, too! Hearing his footsteps and knowing that he was up there alone, both him and that huge tumor between his legs, made my pussy get the hiccups. My menstrual cycle was a day or two away so I was extremely emotional and even more horny that time of the month.
I cleared my throat, making sure Judy was as knocked out as I thought she was. She didn’t move. I took a few kernels of kettle corn and tossed them at her forehead. She grunted and wiggled her nose but that was it. I stood up and stared down at her, thinking, It’s not like he wasn’t going to cheat on you anyway.
When I got upstairs, William was putting the last of the glasses from dinner in the dishwasher.
“Is there something I can help you with?” I asked from the kitchen doorway.
He seemed startled. “Oh, hey, Marilyn.” He closed the dishwasher and turned it on. “No, I’m good, but thanks for offering.”
I put my hands on my hips and licked my lips seductively. “I have a lot of offerings.”
He blushed. Damn, dimples! I’m too through!
He didn’t respond but there was no need. It was obvious we were on the same page. I walked over to him by the sink and flicked the tip of my tongue over his lips. He spread them for me and I went in. Damn, and a fucking thick tongue to suck on my pussy!
We did a dance with both our bodies and our tongues for a few minutes. I debated about leading him to the bedroom but then decided, if I was going to go for it, why not the kitchen? After all, a lot of life-altering shit happens in kitchens across the globe. People make major life-decisions, they fight and argue, and even break up in kitchens. I had done all of the above in my lifetime but, as crazy as it sounded, I have never fucked in one. Now my pussy had the hiccups and asthma.
I broke the kiss and pulled William over by the table.
“Marilyn, we shouldn’t do this,” he protested … but only with his words.
I yanked his pants and boxers down in one swift movement. Then I sat down and gazed up into his eyes. “Are you telling me that you don’t want me to suck the skin off your dick?”
He sighed in defeat as I pushed his ass on the table, positioning him between my legs. The game was on. I grabbed his dick with both hands, spread my mouth open as far as I could and stuffed it with some delicious, protein-infused trouser snake.
“Ummm, ummm, ummm,” I moaned with delight, hardly believing how good he tasted to my palate. I took the mushroom head out for a minute. “You have an incredible dick, boo.”
“Glad you like it.” He glanced at the doorway. “You can have as much of this dick as you want.”
“I want it all, shit!”
William wanted some more of my good head and started motivating me by making it thump. I moved my mouth up, down, and around, trying to capture it, hands-free. Then I had to grab it again to steady it and continue my feast fit for the saints. I had to charm that damn snake into submission.
I sucked, licked, sucked, licked, sucked on balls, sucked, licked, tongue-flicked some ass, and then sucked and licked again until William couldn’t take it anymore. When I realized that he was about to shoot the mother lode, I quickly grabbed the small bowl of sugar on the table and caught all of his semen in it.
William looked shocked, even though he was trying to catch his breath. “What are you going to do with that?”
“Watch.”
I rose up from the table and switched over to the fridge. I opened the door and got out the small crate of strawberries that I had spotted in the drawer earlier when I retrieved the red potatoes. I took one out and smeared it in William’s cum, held it up so that I could gaze at its beauty, and then sucked on the end of it before biting it off.
“Shit! You get down like that!” William exclaimed.
“Oh, sugar, you haven’t seen a damn thing yet.” I dipped the strawberry again and took another bite. “I’m about to show you some shit you’ve never seen before.”
William chuckled. “Well, let’s pray I can handle it.”
I walked back over to the table and pushed him down into the chair that I had vacated. Then I pulled my sundress over my head in one swoop, exposing my banging black lace bra and panty set.
I ran my fingers down over my body. “Do you think this body can bring you pleasure? Immense pleasure?”
“Damn sure looks like it,” he rep
lied as I lowered my bra straps and fed him one of my taut nipples. He circled it with his tongue. “Um, tasty.”
I took a strawberry and let the juice drip on my chest and over my breasts; then he licked it off. This went on for a good five minutes, William devouring my breasts like a starved man.
Meanwhile, at some point, my panties had dropped and were dangling around my right ankle. William started fingering my pussy and then he got creative like me. While he still had my left breast on lock with his mouth, suckling on it like a pacifier, he reached around me, got a strawberry from the crate, and swirled it in my pussy; some of the juice trickled down the inside of my thighs. It felt sticky but oh, so good.
That shit motivated me! I sat on the table and, since the kitchen was rather small, I stretched my right foot over to brace it on the side of the sink, high-heeled pump and all. That allowed William more access to the pussy, which he wasted no time digging into.
“Shit!” I shuddered when he started licking my clit. “Work that tongue, baby.”
He buried his face in my pussy and I started moving my hips back and forth like a pendulum, feeding him my ambrosia. Then I grabbed the back of his head and finally ran my fingers through his hair, like I had been craving to do since the day I had first laid eyes on him.
I came quickly and fell back on the table, still moving my hips so he could get his fill of me. I managed to whimper, not whisper, “I want you to fuck the shit out of me.”
William stood and glanced toward the doorway again. Damn shame that I had forgotten all about Judy. There I was sucking dick and feeding her man my pussy in her kitchen, begging for a massive dick down from him. I realize that made me a stank ho, by the definition of most, but I could not help myself. I did not believe in living my life with regrets and if he was willing to give up the dick, I was willing to intake it.