learning how to tell you

Happy Pride day. Yesterday I wandered around through the amazing crowd of women gathered in the park for the SF Dyke March. So much beautiful energy out there this weekend. I loved all those nods and smiles when I asked if you like to read.

If I handed you my postcard yesterday be sure to say hello.

—
BD

“Why are you smiling?” I ask, trying to sound pissed, but she’s making me smile by smiling up at me. “Fuck you,” I manage to get out, but at this point I’m laughing. Fuck. She smiles at me. I’m straddling her on the bed. She’s on her back. Her cheek is glowing red where I just slapped her. She’s beaming up at me with that smile. Fuck. I pin her wrists and that makes her laugh out loud. I raise one hand high for another slap on her cheek. She tries to look hurt and serious but she’s giggling. Her sillyness makes me laugh but it also builds up a sweet rage inside me.

I feel a swell, a strong wave roll through me. I swing hard but hold back at the last second. Maybe someday I won’t hold back, but for now, I do. I need an edge of safety. She wants me to be rougher. I’m not there yet. But I slap her hard, a surprise. I watch her head jerk to the side before she slowly brings it back to stare at me. Now we’re serious. She has that look in her eyes. I can see she’s feeling what she craved. My own cravings surface with hers. We do this. We feed off each other. We push each other. And sometimes we pull back. I like the change of it. It’s alive.

I slide my belt out from under the loops in my jeans. I am slow and deliberate, pulling the belt with one strong arm off to the side. I clench my muscles while I do it. I lift my ass off her chest to give her a better view of this. At the last belt loop, I whip it so the leather flies over her face. I pull and snap it taught. I wrap the ends around each hand. I lean over and stretch the belt across her neck and over both wrists, flattening her against the mattress. I see her eyes spark with fear. Her neck. Breathing. Is she safe with me? This is what makes her pulse race, her pussy throb. I am safe. She knows this. She is safe. “Give it up to me,” I whisper, “Give in.” She closes her eyes and breathes out a slow stream, calming her nerves. I bend over her and kiss her softly. “I know you,” I tell her, “Let me know you.”

I bend low so that I’m on top of her. Her knees are up and she throws one leg across the back of my thighs, pulling me. I push my weight into my hands, keeping her pinned. I kiss her, pressing hard and feeling her teeth under her lips. My chest is just above her and I rub against her breasts. I lift my chest and my nipples tease her. I press my thigh into her, not moving but just deeply pressing her against the mattress. She rocks her hips, rubbing her pussy against me. I stay still pushing hard against her with my thigh. She leaves a wet trail on my jeans. Her pussy wants more from me, but I don’t relent.

I keep her down, her neck and wrists under the belt. I whisper into her ear and tell her what a fucking cunt she is. I tell her that she can’t have me yet. I tell her she can hump my thigh all she wants but I won’t move. I ask her just how long it will take her to get off like this. I tell her I’ll wait. I say what she wants to hear. The words feel unnatural at first but then they get me off. My body burns to move and pound my hips against her. My mouth can taste her. My tongue remembers her pussy, every rise and fall of her flesh. I remember what to do with my tongue; the pressure and pace where she moans the deepest. I know there is more uncharted terrain to learn. It’s hard to stay on top, in control, with these thoughts of her racing in my mind.

She pulls on me with her legs. Her hips circle fast while she rocks against me. Her pace feels desparate. I stop kissing her for a moment and stare at her. Her eyes are clenched and I see a small trail of tears running down her temples and into her hair. I kiss each temple. I lick the salt. I move my hips. She’s still pinned, unable to move her arms. I move myself so that both my legs are between hers. I give her my bones to fuck. I thrust hard against her. She squeezes me to her with her thighs as she finally gets off. I sit up quickly and slap her clit.

She leaves her arms where they were, as if I’m still pinning her. I slap her clit over and over again and she lifts her head to watch me. She looks dazed, lost. She is somewhere deep inside. I slide the belt underneath her neck and loop it. I hold her up and let her drop. I stare at her. I’m trying to see what she wants. I can’t read anything in her face now. She’s too far gone. Within the scene. I’m in control. Without a map. I frown and think for a second.

I flip her over and shove a pillow under her hips. I start hitting her ass. I’m hitting her with an open palm. This isn’t spanking. Her ass responds immediately, coloring a deep red. I can see the imprint of my palms at first, but soon it’s a blurry red smudge. I hit her until I know that she’ll feel this in the morning. I want her to avoid sitting tomorrow and remember why. She has never let me touch her asshole, but I spit on my thumb and rub her ass without asking. I bend over and lick it, sticking the tip of my tongue inside her ass. She opens quickly. She is so deeply gone, so lost tonight. At times I feel alone and lonely. But I am her guide on this journey, wherever she’s going, and that keeps me in touch with her even in these lost moments.

I am eating out her ass and suddenly I’m more turned on than ever with her. This tabboo being so completely broken without any negotiation has lit a fucking fuse inside me. I press my hands under her and pull on her hip bones. I shove one hand between her legs and pull it slowly up to her belly. “Get my fingers wet,” I tell her and repeat my movements while I go back to licking her ass. She is writhing against my fingers and soon my whole hand is wet. I don’t want to move my tongue away, but I feel how open she is. It’s time to fuck her.

I jerk my jeans down and grab at the cock between my legs. I wasn’t planning to fuck her ass tonight and this cock is not a small one. I squeeze the lube first on my fingers. One finger slides into her easily and then a second. She’s moaning now. She’s saying something but it’s all muddled and lost. I can see a worry on her brow, but she’s not stopping me. I start to realize that her worry has nothing to do with me. She looks confused. What’s this buzzing feeling? Is she in my ass? What’s happening? She knows and she doesn’t know. “Tell me,” I say. She mumbles unintelligably. “Tell me that you want this,” I growl at her. “What?” she asks me. “You know. Tell me,” I repeat.

I wait. I am still for a moment. “I want this,” she says. “What?” I ask her sternly, “You want what?” She buries her face and tells me, “Fuck my ass. Fuck me, god damn it.” Is it shame that makes her angry now? I don’t know. But it’s something to break and let go of and she does that beautifully every time.

I let the tip of my cock press slowly inside her. I feel resisitance at first and then she pulls me inside of her completely. I stay slow, pumping in and out of her ass. I grip her ass with both hands. She stretches one arm down between her legs to her clit. I watch her arm move and match her rhythm as I fuck her. It’s slow. We’re dancing. I pull her onto me. I drag my fingers up her back and dig a little deeper as I claw my way back down her spine. I watch her skin turn red. Red stripes trail across her whole back slowly, methodically. I keep fucking her in this crazy, slow rhythm.

At first I’m staring at her back and then I look down and watch my cock pumping in and out of her ass. I lose my breath for a minute and feel dizzy. It hits me. I pound her. This change snaps us out of our slow haze and now we are fucking again, hard and furious. It feels like a long time before she comes. I don’t want it to end and I’m reluctant to pull out even though she’s clearly spent. She finally reaches back to push against me. My whole body is drenched in sweat. I’m suddenly cold.

I drop down onto my back and take off the harness, dropping it over the edge of the bed. “Fuck you,” I say to her, breathless and shivering. She rolls over and curls up against my side. She slides her fingers through my sweat and licks me under my breasts. It’s only a few seconds before she’s sucking on my cunt. There’s no build up. She is determined and I can barely breathe and settle into the feeling of it before my body jerks and I come. She stays put and gets me off several more times. The last two orgasms are more pain than pleasure and I finally beg her to stop. She likes to push me like this. It’s all about pushing and being pushed.

When she moves off of me, I pounce on top of her and grab her neck with my right hand. I squeeze just enough to scare her and I see it. I slap her cheek hard. Harder than I ever have. She looks stunned. I slap her again. And again. And once more. And then I wrap my body around her and kiss her and she pulls on my hair and we lay tangled up for an hour. Our bodies held together and our mouths unable to move apart.

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Hot damn. 100 followers. Thank you all!

I also recently had my first story accepted. It’s possible that it could get cut at the last minute, but I hope to be in the Best Lesbian Erotica 2013 anthology later this year. A big “Holy Fuck” moment for me. Unreal.

So with all this luck, I should wish something for you: May you all fuck someone this weekend just exactly the way you like it. And fucking yourself counts.

Here’s how I plan to satisfy this wish…

I’m starting with two slices of lime and two large shots of tequila and me on my back. I unbutton my shirt and squeeze one slice of lime watching it drip onto my chest and squeeze my nipples in my juiced up fingers. Tonight I have to imagine someone licking it up. I lick my fingers and throw back the first shot.

I unbutton my jeans and slip them with my boxers down over my hips. I rest the second shot glass low on my torso and hold myself still while I squeeze the lime onto my tongue. The tequila ripples in the glass as my pulse pumps my belly up and down. I let it run out of my mouth and get my chin all sticky. I reach down and put a palm on top of the shot glass and squeeze it. I press the cold glass against my cunt and pull it slowly up through my wet lips and over my clit.

I drag the glass up my chest, between my breasts letting it slosh out on my skin. I drink it down tasting the slight tartness of my cunt on the lip of the glass. My hand slides through the booze on my chest and I suck the tips of each finger. I suck again and wet them. The tequila has made my face hot. My cunt throbs.

I crook one arm behind my head, propping it up higher to look down at my body. I watch my hand between my legs. I watch my wrist twist and pull. I get myself excited and then dig into the drawer beside me for a cock. Curved and beautiful. Glass. Ridged. I push the tip inside me and sink it deep so I can feel it under my belly. I feel it moving deep inside me, pushing against me, finding every nerve ending and searing me with a deep, unburied pleasure.

I take my time. Nothing on my clit until I can’t stand it any longer and let my head fall, bringing my other hand between my legs. This is my first fuck for the night. It’s still early. I’ll leave my chest and chin sticky awhile longer.

I have more toys in the drawer next to me. I pause and take it in. Nipple clamps come out next. I clamp them tight and let the chain drip between my breasts. I make it hurt. A lot. I pull the chain and watch my nipples strain. The pain surges into my sides and up under my armpits. I bite my lip. I grab the biggest cock I own and drip lube along the shaft but barely pump my hand around it before I shove it into my cunt. This one is hard and fast. I want to fuck myself sore. I want to feel it when I walk in the morning. Feel my aching nipples under my shirt. The raw pain remains for a long time. A reminder.

There’s more tonight. It crests and falls.

In my mind I have fucked her with my hand under the table at dinner. And in the car ride home. I have let her torture me and black the lights while she fucks me from behind, pulling me back onto her cock, a rare treat. I have bent her over my legs and made her drip down onto her thighs before letting her sit on my face and rock against my chin. I have held her for hours and let her doze before I wake her up with the tip of my cock slapping against her clit and my mouth just above hers. Thrusting into her the moment she wakes up. Making her gasp before she moans and circles her hips underneath me.

Keep going. Imagine something new each time. Discover it in yourself and in her. Surprise the fuck out of your own mind and body. Wake up. Feel alive. This is it.

Run a bath. Run it hot. Watch the steam lift off the surface. Lean your face over the tub and let the steam hit you. Feel it. Stay over the hot steam until it’s hard to breathe, until your face is dripping wet and your shirt clings to you. Fill the tub completely.

Touch the surface of the bath with your palm. Take off your clothes. Step into the tub. Watch your skin turn red. Sink down so your neck and shoulders are under the water. As sweat beads on your skin, taste it. Lick your upper lip. Feel the soft hairs under your tongue. Touch your face with your fingertips. Breathe.

Rub your skin with a washcloth. Bathe every inch of your body slowly and take in everything. Stop when you feel your mind wander and rewind. Pay attention to each toe, the hairs along your spine, every inch of yourself. When you’re done, rest your body deep into the water again. Slip your head under and listen. Stay under the surface. Hear the blood move through your body. Stay under until you jerk up gasping.

Step out of the tub. Rub your skin roughly with the towel. Let it sting. Leave your hair dripping wet. Trace the water that drips from your hair onto your body. Slip under the covers of your bed and rest your wet head on the pillow. Put both hands on your belly, low. Feel the curve that rises just above your hips. Let your fingers weave into your pubic hair. Feel the bone underneath.

Run both hands between your legs but keep them on the outer lips of your labia. Curve your back to reach long and deep between your legs. Rub until you feel your wetness build but don’t dip your fingers further. Move them up your torso. Lift your breasts in your palms and circle them. Pull and squeeze each nipple. Pinch them. Hurt yourself.

Take one finger and press it like a tongue on your neck. Move it from your ear down to your shoulder. Squeeze the muscle in your neck. Choke yourself slightly. Push two fingers into your mouth. Coat them with your spit. Run it down your chin. Make your mouth and chin wet. Slick your fingers up and let them drip on the way down to your cunt. Lightly touch your clit, just above it. Feel it start to meet your touch. Circle it. Lighter, barely touching. Tease yourself.

Bend one finger long and pull it across your inner lips. Tease the wetness out. Push two fingers deep inside. Reach your other hand down to your clit. Lick your fingers again and again and keep circling your clit.

Move your hips. Dig into the air. Slap your clit over and over. Pinch one nipple hard between your fingers. Clamp down and don’t let go. Slap your cunt until you come, unsatisfied and throbbing. It’s not enough, is it?

Fuck yourself again. Get a cock this time or your vibrator. Imagine being buckled to the bed, splayed out with your wrists and ankles stretched to the four corners. Imagine her above you, spitting into her hand. Imagine her kneeling between your legs, sitting up, her back straight with one hand stretched low digging her fingers inside you, leaving your clit begging for her.

Watch her show you her free hand, held high, stretching out her thumb long. See her lick her thumb and the spit string from her mouth to the tip. Slowly, she bends her back and works on your pussy with both hands; fingers inside you, pumping. Her thumb against your clit, rubbing the sides of your small, perfect shaft.

Come. Come again. Want her to be real. Suck on your own fingers. Pull your own hair. Wrap yourself around your pillow and doze off hoping for a decent dream that brings her to you.

I am on my back with a vibrator between my legs rubbing the full length of my cunt. My hips hinge and my back arches and curves. I feel my hamstrings pull long down the backs of my thighs. My mind flips through images of you, some real and some imagined.

You have your fingers on the top button of your shirt. Now my shirt. You are naked and bending over the sink splashing water on your face. You are fully clothed and crawling on top of me on the bed. You sit above me unbuckling my belt. You crawl onto my lap on the couch. You pull a blanket over us at the lake on the dock. You pull my shirttails out of my pants and slide your hands up my chest. You reach behind your back and briefly put your hand on my fly as we walk into the restaurant.

I imagine what we do to each other. How you suck on my skin. I bite your inner thighs. I stick my nose in your panties and sneak my fingers under them feeling you sticky and wet on my knuckles. You lean above me pulled up on your arms. You pin my shoulders and grin. I want your torture. I desire it. My cunt throbs when you hold me down and just stare at me. Come at me slowly and stop with your lips just above mine. Don’t kiss me, but let me feel your breath on my mouth. I long for you.

More pictures of you in my head fly by and some repeat. Yes, the belt and the buckle. Yes, your mouth moving down my bare chest. Yes, your hand sliding down to my cunt. Yes, you on top of me riding my dick. Yes, you pressed into the mattress with your ass in my hands while I fuck you. Yes, your fingers on the edges of my clothes. Yes, your hand on my neck with your thumb perceptibly squeezing. Yes, as I say your name out loud.

I say your name over and over. An incantation. I call for you loudly and I come.

It turns me on when she gets on her hands and knees. When she waits for me on the bed or the floor. I like to stare at her with her back swayed and her ass lifted up. At first her head is held high, proud. I stand near her, not touching, not saying a word. I admire her until she grows impatient with me.

When she hangs her head, I kneel down in front of her. I rake my fingers through her hair. In my head, I am telling her things. But I don’t think anything intelligible is said out loud. Only muttering, low and garbled. Tales from the depths of me that almost never get let out.

Usually I take my time. Sometimes I smoke while I stare at her, leaning my neck out an open window to blow the smoke outside. She hates the smell hanging in the house, but allows me the pleasure of it now and then.

As early as breakfast, I knew tonight would be different. I was anxious. No, I was annoyed. She had pissed me off with her disregard. Most of the time, I love her ways. She knows what she wants and I like that.

I give. She takes. And the way she takes gives me what I need. Not this morning. She pissed me off and she knew it. I simmered in a state of agitation all day. I was sharp and focused at work. I used that edgy feeling inside to drive myself. By the end of the day, it was an itch.

I stormed into the house. She saw it cloud over. She shifted her mood to give me space for mine. Nothing was said. She made me a drink.

I went to the kitchen. I wanted to cook. I wanted to hear the clang of pots and pans. I wanted to let my frustration build as I shouted obscenities at the spices that couldn’t be found and the dull knife. “We need to get these fucking knives sharpened,” I yelled, “We say it every god damn week and we never do anything about it.” She poked her head in the kitchen and stared at me before quickly disappearing without a word.

I cooked dinner and made a huge mess in the kitchen. I used the blender for god knows what. I used tiny bowls for each ingredient and left everything strewn about. After the kitchen was good and fucked, I brought her plate out to the table and sat down with my own. She watched me eat two bites before she stood up. I kept my eyes on my plate.

She walked behind me and ran her fingers through my hair, circling my ears. She tugged on my head pulling it back against her. She wrapped her arms around my chest and whispered into my ear that she loved being fucked when I’m like this. She knew this would irritate me. But she also knows I’ll rise. My response is to jump up and throw back my chair.

“You want me to fuck you?” I shove my face into hers while I hiss at her.” You like it like this?” I shove her chest and she takes a stumbling step backwards. “You think I’m endless? I’m just here for the taking?” I jerk my belt out of its loops and whip it across the room. “Strip,” I command. I’m snarling with anger now but I can feel tears welling up in my eyes.

She strips, looking down at my shoes. She knows not to look at my face. She heard my voice crack. She stands close. I grab the back of her neck and pulse my fingers into her, pushing her forward and down. Soon she’s on her hands and knees on the living room rug. I kick her knees apart and drop down behind her. I spit in the palm of my hand and grab her cunt from behind. I hold her like this and grab her shoulder with my free hand, pulling her back against me. I pull her into me again and again. I move my hips and lean back, put both hands on her hips and pull her roughly against the fly of my jeans.

“Stretch your arms out,” I tell her. Her cheek rests on the rug and her arms reach long, so long, in front of her. She feels every thrust on her cheek now. Half her face will be red for hours after this. I unzip my jeans. I tug them down with my boxers. There’s no cock tonight, just me. My hair and my bone dig against her. One hand moves under her and my fingers squeeze and pull on her clit.

This is not what it’s usually like. Nothing about today is usual. I have cracked open. Something slightly bitter is oozing out of me. Releasing. I feel it. I let it go. I empty.

Somehow in the midst of this, I am pounding so hard against her that I get off. Without warning, my clit explodes and I yell out and realize I’m shaking. She is up on her hands again and craning her pretty neck asking me what happened. It’s okay. It’s all okay.

I lay down on my back and stare at her pussy, wet and shining above my head. My bare ass is pricked by the rug fibers and I remember my jeans are pulled down to my thighs. I’m panting. “Back up onto me,” I ask her. Everything has changed now. I am whole again or at least stitched up. “Back up,” I say again, “I want you on my face.”

Her knees touch my ears before she adjusts and lowers herself on my mouth. I suck on her. I nibble her heavy, full lips and she drips onto my chin and on my tongue. Slow now. Let’s get hungry. I take my time. Remembering and wanting to forget what she likes. Let me learn it all again. Let me never assume I know you.

All day, I anticipated her. Not the evening, her. Her movements, how she would feel on my fingers, the taste of her skin, her smell.

I dressed up for her. She always looked so stunning but I was too often shabby. Tonight I ironed my best shirt and slipped my favorite tie under the stiff collar. I strapped on my favorite cock and tucked it against my thigh. I buttoned up my dark wool dress pants even though it was a little too hot for wool that night and pulled a new pair of vintage cream suspenders over my shoulders. I pulled on thin, dark grey dress socks and tied the skinny black waxed laces on my dress shoes. I slicked back my hair.

The sink filled up with cold water and I rolled up my sleeves. I splashed my face several times and watched the water drip and splash in the bowl. I need to shock myself awake tonight. I’m in a daze dreaming of her. I bury my face in a towel and can’t help smiling. I ran the comb through my hair once more.

Music is on, there’s ice in the bucket on my makeshift bar and two heavy bar glasses next to a bottle of scotch. The glasses and the nice scotch cost me a day’s pay. Sometimes it’s worth it. For her, always, as often as I can. I checked the ice in the bucket. I knew not to fill it so early, but I’m impatient. And bullheaded. And also a perfectionist. I grabbed the bucket and dumped the ice into the sink. The frost from the freezer blew out in clouds and I stuck my head in to cool down. I am obsessive about my ice. I use those old fashioned metal trays for the big, boxy cubes they make. Beautiful and non-uniform crystal clear blocks of ice. But the damn tray is a pain in the ass. My fingers froze on the metal lever. I’m just barely strong enough to pull it up. I had a light sweat on my brow and my armpits felt damp as I finally cracked the ice. Jesus. Sometimes I get tired of my own crazy. Still, the fresh ice was deeply satisfying. My doorbell rang just as I put the lid on the bucket. Perfect.

She looked perfect. Head to toe, she’s my dream. She takes care and I thank her for it. I had a whole evening laid out in front of us, with room for improvising. It started with me sitting down on the couch and asking her to pour me a scotch.

I sat with my knees wide apart, slightly slouched against the back of the couch. She walked over to the scotch and pulled on the cork. She held it under her nose and smiled at me. She loves nice scotch. She could smell how smooth it was. I told her I wanted one ice cube. “Melt it on your tongue before you drop it in the glass,” I suggested. She pulled out a large piece of ice and ran it across her tongue. She held the lid of the ice bucket and let the water drip off her tongue & down her chin onto it. “More,” I said, “Melt it down for me.” She took it deeper into her mouth. Her lips closed on the ice. I could hear her sucking on it. Her mouth makes me hot. The sounds it makes when she kisses and sucks on me. I could feel her mouth on me as I listened.

“That’s good,” I said, “Thank you. Pour me a double.” She wrapped her fingers around the glass and lifted it to her mouth, letting the ice fall into it from her mouth while she stared at me. Her lips were shining from the wet and the cold. Her cheeks had a sweet, red blush. She poured a drink for me and another for herself and walked slowly towards me. I patted my thigh, “Sit on my lap.” She sat with her knees between mine, her ass on my thigh. I lightly supported her back with one hand and held my drink in the other. She clinked her glass against mine, “Cheers,” she said and took a large gulp. I laughed at her. She doesn’t sip. I admire her greedy appetite. I let the booze slide onto my tongue and held it there. I sip. I wait and make sure I taste it all before I swallow.

“I want to taste the scotch on your tongue,” I told her. Saying it made my heart beat faster; my clit throbbed. Watching her earlier with the ice melting in her mouth was the first step. There’s something incredible about planning out a few moments and watching them unfurl in front of you. A powerful rush to imagine it and then command it and see it happening. The moments can be small. It’s still powerful. She took a gulp, swallowed, then smiled and took a sip, held the stinging alcohol in her mouth, and brought her lips to mine. I felt her tongue slide onto mine and the scotch followed. I let it run out the corner of my mouth and felt it leave a cool streak on my chin.

She shifted her hips as we kissed. I set my drink down and rested my fintertips at her waist. I teased the edge of her skirt and felt for her skin. Small movements. Small tastes. She stood up and took another sip of her drink before settling on the couch on her knees, facing me, straddling my hips. She unbuttoned her shirt with her breasts inches from my mouth. I love the way she slowly tugs her shirt out from her skirt and then rolls it off her shoulders. I kissed her bare shoulders. I kissed her neck. I took a sip of scotch and ran my wet tongue across the exposed flesh of her breasts pushing out of her bra. I intended for both of us to smell soaked in booze later. I dipped a finger into my drink and ran it from her ear down her neck and between her breasts. She pulled her arms behind her to unhook her bra, but I caught her hands, “Not yet.”

I lowered her hands to her skirt zipper. She stood and slipped it off. “Kneel on the floor and lean over the seat of the couch.” She sat on her ankles and leaned forward, but I pulled her up so that she was up on her knees, her ass level with my knees, and leaned her forward. She was next to me, not touching me, her back arched. I dipped my finger into my drink again and ran it down her spine. I stuck all four fingers in and raked them across her back. I could see the shiny trails of booze on her back. I sucked on the cube of ice and then spat it out before licking her with my cold tongue. I pet her ass through her panties for awhile before hooking my thumb under the elastic and slowly rolling them down to her thighs. She stayed bent over on the couch. So good. I pet her with both my hands now, just rubbing her ass softly.

I poured myself another drink and sucked the scotch into my mouth loudly before I bent down behind her. I let her feel my mouth and the cold, wet liquor on her flesh. I ran my fingertips down her thighs. I kissed her gently on the small of her back, up her spine and her neck. I lifted her hair and kissed her cheeks. Then I sat back down next to her, “I want you to spread yourself over my lap,” I told her, “First, adjust my cock.” She left her panties down around her knees and reached between my legs. She felt for my cock and delicately moved it through the fabric. My pants bulged. She bent over me, pressing into my lap. “Get yourself wet,” I instructed, “Rub against me. Let me know when you’re good and wet.” I sat there sipping my scotch and watched her twist and writhe on my lap. I kept my hips still and let her control the sensation. I sipped. I watched. The condensation built up on my glass and dripped on her back. I touched the drop of water and lightly smeared it around. I could barely control myself. I saw my fingers shake.

“I’m wet,” she whispered and kept rubbing against me. I stroked her ass and then slid my hand between her legs. She was wet. My hand was sideways and stiff, I imagined it a shark fin cutting through the water. She rocked against me with the rhythm of my hand swirling on her ass and then dipping between her legs. I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. The vision of her stretched over my lap, rocking against me. Me with my knees apart, the taste of scotch in my mouth, staring down at this amazing woman. “I’m lucky,” I said and she groaned loudly in reply. “I want you to get off just like this,” I whispered, “Can you do that?” She nodded. She picked up the pace of her rocking and I kept my hand between her legs. She rubbed back and forth from my cock to my fingers. I kept my touch light. I wanted her aching and angry. I still had my glass in one hand but no interest in drinking. The ice swirled and clinked around in the glass as she grinded hard against me. Several hard thrusts with her fists clenched and then she slowly opened up her hands wide and held the edge of the couch. She relaxed her muscles and I watched the pleasure shudder through her as she came.

I helped her up, she sat next to me on the couch. I kneeled in front of her and pulled her ass to the edge of the cushions, burying my face in her cunt. Sucking on her and licking her wet folds. Her taste mixed in with the scotch and I felt drunk and stormy. I squeezed her. She was trying to wriggle away from me. It was too much after she’d just had an orgasm. But I held her there until it passed. Until she started over and I felt her relax. I heard her breath slow down. I felt her getting wetter, so slick my chin slid deep against her and I felt her cunt opening up for me. I pressed my face hard into her while I sucked. She grabbed my head and pulled at me and nearly smothered me as she came hard in my mouth. I didn’t want to move, but I rubbed my wet lips down the inside of both her thighs. I smeared my face against her skin and then licked the trail left behind. She kept her hands in my hair, her fingers massaged my scalp. This wasn’t in my script; kneeling and devouring her like this. I had imagined her climbing up off my lap and unzipping my fly. I got up to get her another drink.

“Are you cold?” I asked. She pulled the blanket off the back of the couch and wrapped it around her. She took her scotch from me and drank. She closed her eyes and pulled me nearer. She put her lips against my temple and started whispering, “I liked the ice,” she said, “I liked melting it on my tongue for you. I like it when you think of these things.” She moved her drink into her left hand and with her right, pulled my suspenders off my shoulders. “I like it when you set it up. I can feel it when we hit that beat and something you imagined is happening between us.” She loosened my tie and slid it over my head, starting on my buttons, slowly, exploring under the shirt at each stop down to my pants. “I want to draw my name on you. With the tip of my finger and scotch, I’ll cover your chest with my name. And later, after you let me fuck you, I’ll write my name on your thighs.” My shirt was completely unbuttoned now and she rubbed my chest, sliding her fingers around my nipples and under my breasts, under my arms into the damp hairs hiding there. “Feel my name,” she said and with a cold, wet finger traced the letters of her name on the bones of my chest. I looked down at her finger gliding across me. I felt dazed. There was something my body understood in that moment that my brain and my heart wouldn’t know until later.

I felt her name on me and I did let her fuck me. After she undid my pants and pulled out my cock. After she stroked and sucked me and lowered herself onto me and came again while she bit my ear so hard it left a bruise. After I pushed her onto her stomach on the couch and rubbed my cock, still wet from her pussy, up against her ass while she sucked scotch off my fingers. After she pulled down my boxers and held me naked. She grabbed the small, wooden dildo with the knobbed end and stared at my cunt while she moved it slowly in and out of me. She licked my clit softly. My cunt squeezed around the hard wood and I came in a rush, pushing her head away from me. She stared at me. She waited. She spread my legs wide and ran her finger over the melting ice in her glass, then wrote her name over and over again on my thighs.