learning how to tell you

Heat

I sweat when I fuck. Not just a little. My back and belly get slick with sweat. I get hot to the touch, surprisingly so. There’s a switch. A pull chain somewhere. I can’t hide my desire. You feel it on my skin.

Hot. Wet.

I love it when you ride me. When I’ve been fucking you on top or from behind and then we shift and I’m on my back, knees bent, lifting my hips, pushing up into you. You lean back, your chest and belly like a runway, and I reach my hand to your warm, wet pussy. Your clit, swollen under my thumb.

I love it because we feel the sweat between us.

I love it when we’re fucking and you squirt and I feel the warm stream of your ejaculate running over my thighs and between my legs, pooling beneath us.

Hot. Wet. Messy.

This is fucking. This is how we fuck. Abandoning all logic.

I watch your skin stretch over your belly as you lean back. I open my mouth and imagine your nipple on my tongue, my teeth clenched, holding you. A sacrament. I laugh realizing my tongue is stretched out long, pleading.

When you come, you curl over me. Your breasts brush against mine. I hold your jaw and flick my tongue in your mouth. My tongue felt lost without you and punishes you for it now. We breathe like horses and kiss until we’re calm.

This is how it is when we fuck.

Useless

What can I do? I’m useless.

I can fuck you. Erase everything. Lift you up for a moment. Press you down hard against the cushions. Easy. I can squeeze your hands in mine and shove your cheek against the fabric. My hand flat on your chest. I’ll spit at you; yell. Screaming how much I want you. Making you hear me. Pushing everything else out of your mind.

I force you. Force. Push. Hold you tight. Move you where I want. Position you. You don’t resist. You look out at me behind something I don’t recognize in your eyes. You grab and pull me harder against you and slap yourself with my hands. I hear you grind your teeth.

It’s my honor to rise to your call. You push me this way, wanting me to control you more. I feel it. When I slap your hands away from me and bind them over your head, you settle for a moment. You hush. When I clamp my hand tight across your mouth, I feel a jolt go through you. It’s like this. A surge. A hush. Calm but alive. The taught wire, the tension when I push you down underneath me. The bright way you writhe beside me. I whisper in your ear all the things I want to do next. You know there is always more.

You demand me and I rise to meet you. Next time I will do as I said. I’ll bend you over and jerk your pants down just enough. You’ll hear my belt. I’ll push you into the cushions and tell you to put your hands where I can see them, flat. I want to see your veins. I want to watch your skin flush red. And I will.

My fingers, stiff, where my cock would be, press against your pussy. “Say it for me,” I whisper. You moan in response but it’s not enough for me, “Say it. Tell me.” My belt buckle clicks out a rhythm. I push my stiff fingers against you, teasing just at the edge of your hole. I grab your hip. You wiggle against me, breathing louder, thinking you can tempt me this way, but I know how to wait. I need you to ask me. I want to hear your voice. When you’re ready for me like this, it’s a deep, husky sound. It’s animal. It makes me twitch. “Fuck me, goddamn it” you finally say, sounding annoyed. You’re stubborn. That streak in you, so strong.

I pounce when you break and ask me. Three fingers jam into you. Feel me, big, inside you. I reach around and push against your clit, press it flat in my hand and slowly rub. My other hand moves quick and deep inside you. I want you confused. I want your pussy confused and mine to fuck and tease and enjoy. “I love your pussy,” I tell you. “My cunt,” you answer. “Your cunt,” I agree. “You just like pussy,” you say, sounding like a bitch, knowing I’ll react. I respond with a sudden grip on your neck, my fingers sticky. I want you to smell yourself. I drag my fingers across your lips. “Shut up,” I whisper and go back to fucking you, being slow about it. Dragging my fingers down the back of your shirt.

“Is this what you wanted?” I ask, with my fingers shoved back inside you. You’ve made me rougher. I’m pounding into you harder and with less control. You don’t answer. Your eyes are squeezed shut, your head turned to the side. Your hands still where I can see them. Knuckles now bent slightly. Your fingers poised to crawl. I fuck you hard, stiff, unrelenting. I want to fuck you like this and never stop. I don’t stop.

When you come, I watch you struggle in the time it takes before you can push me away from you. I always want more. I crawl on top of you and you tell me, “No,” but within minutes your hips are moving against me, calling. I will rise up. New. Something new again. Always. You entice me. You make me want to find more. You appreciate me. You get me like no one else. You laugh when you see me work at it. You know how serious I am and you laugh it away. You slap away my intensity and make me go wild, deeper down, always finding more. You get me. You see how useless I feel and put me to work.

How To See In The Dark

She was going out with a lover. They were meeting someone. I listened to every word. I saw her eyes. Her excitement shivered. When she left I was shaking. My smile stuck on my face. She was happy. She was free. This is how she needed to be. This is how I loved her. I slow down in these moments. I slow down and look at my hands on the table. I lift my fingers carefully and push myself back. Slow motion. Calm. The air moves around me like water. Muffled sounds. I’m still smiling. She’s gone. I blink like a cat.

Tonight, I go home alone. I stare at the key in the lock. I leave all the lights off and let the sunset drape me in it’s eventual darkness. I sit. My hands on my thighs. I imagine her. I imagine them. I enjoy it. I breathe into it. I taste it.

Does her lover know to hold her wrists behind her waist and grip the back of her neck? Will someone else hold her shoulders back tonight? Will she feel a soft, flat tongue slide down over the hood of her clit, curling around her sweet little shaft? Will she gasp and push the tip of her tongue against her teeth? Will her lover pause and stroke her pussy with a long tongue to taste her over and over again? Will she moan and sink her fingers deep into flesh?

I burn when I imagine them together, tangled. It makes me wet. And tonight I’m also lonely. I breathe it deeply in and out again. Fly away. Give me peace. I smile. I squeeze my thighs. I stretch my neck long. I open my mouth.

She likes to suck cock while getting fucked. She likes to have her head held back by the hair, keeping her throat open. She likes having her hips lifted up and being fucked hard. She likes to reach one arm behind her and feel another body, pressed up near her, craving a piece of her. What will she give? Her fingers slide up an inner thigh. It’s fleshy and ripe. She pushes two fingers inside. Someone grabs her wrist. She’s being pushed and pulled. Her fingers curl, press, twist. It’s hot. Everyone’s sweat drips down an arm, a back, the curve of an ass, the back of the knee, her neck. Her hot neck, wet with sweat. Someone licks it.

She’s pushed down onto the mattress on her back. One of them kneels above her neck and tilts a cock into her mouth, cradling her cheek like an old lover, deeply known. She stares up at the strange chest rising above her. “I don’t even know you, really,” she thinks. It doesn’t matter. They’re fucking. What do you need to know? She feels hands on her thighs, pushing them apart. Someone’s mouth pushes against her. Distracting. She’s trying to suck cock. Trying not to get too aroused and forgetful. Greedy. But she wants them both. She wants everything.

She pushes the cock aside, out of her mouth and grabs, pulls, now she has what she wants. A tongue in her mouth and a mouth on her pussy. She closes her eyes and feels herself in the wetness and the grip and the need that overwhelms her. Teeth. Lips. Tongue. Furious. Her swollen clit will take its time. She pulls on this head that is next to her own. Pulls it to her and feels this body and another body. Wrapped together. Imagining them being bound, slowly, by a thick rope. Held in place. Pulled tight around them to keep it all put.

This is the pleasure of it. Three mouths. Three cunts. All these arms and legs and fingers. Wetness. Breathing. The hot room. It gets so hot. The dripping sweat. She wants to be fucked. Let them fuck her. Let them devour everything she has. She will laugh and pet their heads. She will laugh and hold them to her for a moment before she slips away. She wants to press them together. Hold them mouth to mouth. Wrap their arms around the other. “Love each other. Right here in front of me. Let me see it. I want to feel it.”

My eyes are open wide in the black room. As if that can help me see in this total darkness. I picture my own wide-eyed stare and for a moment I feel ashamed as if I’ve been caught at something. I let my eyes fall closed. I bring my quivering fingers to my lips. She’s so alive. It makes me shake.

In My Haste To Take You

When you opened the door, I pushed you backwards, reaching behind me with one hand to lock the deadbolt. I led you to the hallway carpet and shoved you down on your knees. “My belt,” I said. My voice was hoarse from the night before. Too much of everything - booze, shouting above the crowd, cigarette smoke, fucking, the night, missing you.

I held your shoulders and pressed you down into the floor. You were quick with my belt and pants. You always respond so well to my sudden demands. “My cock,” I said but it was already in your hands, held to your lips. You kissed it low on the shaft. Your cheek pressed against my belly. I kept my hands on your shoulders. A firm grip. I wanted a drink to hold. Ice to rattle in the glass. Something to sip and burn smooth on my tongue. “Get me a drink first.”

You shuffled on your knees a few feet and then got up. I stayed in the hallway. It seemed suddenly dark. I heard you with the ice and the cork and the trickle of booze in the glass. You returned not looking me in the eye, fell to your knees, and reached your arm up long to hand me my drink. I smiled at you. So good. “Thank you,” I said and took a small sip. You stroked my cock. You licked it slowly. Your hands wrapped behind my thighs. “Keep your hands off me,” I barked, not knowing why I demanded such a thing. But the image of you on your knees with your tongue on my cock and now your hands in the air, aimless, made me suck in my breath. You looked unsteady, and yet devoted. “Mmmm,” you made me moan and bend my knees.

I grabbed the back of your head with one hand and pulled your face into me. I sighed. I pulled your head away and looked at your gaping mouth, ready and willing, wanting. You held your tongue out and I rested the tip of my cock on it. Slowly, I pulled us together. Your hands were still held out beside your shoulders in the air, helpless. They moved like floating vines in the water and eventually drifted down by your sides. I stared at your dreamily moving hands while you sucked me off. The effect slowed everything down. My bourbon moved so slowly down the back of my throat. I heard our breathing. The wet sounds your mouth made. My moaning rattled my chest and fell deep in my belly.

My fingers tangled around your hair, swirling, gripping to own your movements. Pulling you off. Pushing you deeper. “Yes,” I said, too loudly, as I finished my drink. I pulled out of your mouth and got down on my knees. You were almost limp. Still floating. I pulled you into position on your knees. Leaning over you, my fingers undid your pants and pulled them down your thighs. I spat in my hand and rubbed your pussy. You were wet but needed more. I spat again. You didn’t say a word. Your head hung down. I grabbed my cock and felt for your hole, sliding inside you a little, slowly, moving, working to get you ready for me. Everything felt so damn slow but with an urgent desire. We were grunting. Understanding each other. You were impatient. I was deliberate.

I fucked you slow. I kept a finger wrapped around the base of my cock, pulling it long, nearly all the way out of you as I moved. Your ass swung up high. Your back arched. I watched your muscles rise and fall under your shoulder blades. You reached an arm back to your clit, “You want to come?” I asked. You nodded. “Huh?” I asked. “I want to come,” you breathed, “May I?” I bent over you and pushed your hand away and held your clit in my fingers. You were wet now, slick. I pressed into you. I felt you come. The aftershocks, tiny twitches under my hand. Your come, or mine, dripped down my inner thigh. I licked the back of your neck.

You flipped around on your back and grabbed me. “Come,” you said, and you dragged me down the hall to your bedroom. You piled the pillows up and pushed me back against them. You lay on your belly between my legs and stripped me of my cock and harness. “Watch me,” you said and stretched your tongue to my clit. Soft. Barely there. You licked my cunt. I burned hot. I felt my cunt suddenly so wet, dripping down onto the sheets. I rolled my neck and turned to the side. You stopped, “Look at me,” you said, so soft and sweet, “I want to know you’re watching.”

It’s rare that I slow down for this. I know I make it hard for you to show me. I know what I do and how I demand you again and again. I feel myself pushing it over that edge. Exerting myself until I’m too exhausted for you. Telling you it’s all I want. And you feel left alone. So this time, I turn my head towards you and watch. Your tongue is so patient. Slow. Long strokes. Light. Slow, so slow before you press harder. Run your tongue deep against my cunt. Press your lips against me. Drag your hands up my thighs and grab onto my hip bones. I don’t want to cry. I’m not going to cry. I squeeze my nipples hard so the pain shoots inside me and over my skin. You slide a spread-out hand onto my stomach. I can see my heartbeat pulsing under your palm.

You slow me down. You make me watch. You make me take all of this, all of you, in. It takes time. You take time. When I come, the sheets beneath me are uncomfortably wet. We roll over and I hold you for a minute. Soon you jump up and get your robe. I lie there still shaking with deep breaths, listening to you roam about. I drag myself out of bed and look for my clothes. I let myself out and then regret not finding you and kissing your mouth. I let the wheel slide through my hands on the curves. I’m humming something. A song I can’t place. Something old. I like the tune. All night it’s in my head.

Kentucky Sky

She got a truck. I was still driving my old, used old minivan. I fucking hated that minivan. A brown Dodge that I’d needed at the time. I tried to look on the bright side, you could make a small bed in the back with the seat back down. But still, it was a fucking minivan. And her truck, god damn it, was not just any truck. Her dad had given her his old 1969 Ford F250. It was painted a luscious butterscotch with cream trim. The seats were cracked but she had a dark blue wool blanket thrown over them.

She drove to my house when she got that truck. I burned red when I saw her drive up in it. I imagined her hand on that long, spindly stick coming up from the floorboards. She waved to me. I didn’t budge. “C’mon,” she yelled at me, “You can drive it.” She slid over into the passenger seat and looked forward out the window, sure of me coming. I wandered up to her and stuck my head in the passenger window. “Nice,” I said, “He gave it to you?” She nodded. “Is he going to keep it up?” she looked at me. “Jesus, I hope so,” she said. I nodded and looked down at her knees. She was in her red & white dress with her brown cowboy boots. She looked like a dream as always. Her sweet knees and that little bit of thigh, little bit of shin I could get a look at.

We met in high school. I had recently moved back to town with my head nearly shaved bald. To be honest, it was more extreme than I intended, but I wanted to stomp back into town if I had to go back. I ran into her at the movies. She runs the ticket booth. I told her I was back home. We chatted for a minute and she let me in for free. After the movie ended, I was walking to my car when she came up behind me and tugged on my elbow. “Can I get a ride?” she asked me. I drove her home mostly in silence. Neither of us knew what to say. I felt something electric between us but couldn’t quite believe it. In front of her house she thanked me and opened the door but then closed it, turned around, and reached her hand just above my ear. “I like it,” she said and scratched her fingernails on the stubbly hairs there. “Good,” I said. She quickly opened the car and ran up to her door. I sat there staring at her house for a few beats. I’d seen her around every week but hadn’t found the nerve to test the waters. It felt like a lot to risk in my hometown.

“Where do you want me to drive you?” I asked, feeling ornery and a little sore with envy, knowing I needed to work that shit out fast. “Drive me down the highway,” she said, “I’ll buy you supper somewhere. Please say yes.” She smiled at me and I grinned back. “Of course I’ll say yes,” I laughed. I hopped around the front and jumped in. There were wires hanging out under the dash. She had a portable radio on the seat next to us and a little basket in the foot well.

We drove out on the highway. I headed towards the lake. It was about an hour away down the long flat highway. The sun was going down. She turned on the radio and we listened to some old-time country music. She sang along in a high, whispy voice and I just smiled and listened. Her fingers tapped the rhythm out on her thigh. “I like hearing you sing,” I said, “It’s nice.” She didn’t answer, just kept singing along, but I saw her blush a little and smile. “Where are you taking me?” she asked after awhile. “The lake,” I answered, “There’s a good catfish place near there if that sounds good.” She nodded. I gripped the wheel and felt a sudden surge of desire hit my cunt. Damn. I didn’t know how to do this exactly. Not with her. But here we were. I should make a move at some point.

I parked in the gravel lot and swung around to her door, but she was already out of the truck. She gave me a look and said, “How sweet you are.” I rubbed my neck. My hands felt out of place. I jammed them in my pockets and we walked in. I loved this old place. I’d gone here as a kid. A sawdust floor, the tables were made from those big wooden spools, and the menu only had catfish and hush puppies and cole slaw. The restaurant was situated on a small, dug pond stocked with catfish. You could sit on the dock and fish for a small fee and they’d cook your fish up right there. We ordered some beers and fish and found a table in the corner. She looked down at the upturned barrel that served as a chair and I saw that her dress was too nice for this place. “Hang on,” I said and threw my jacket over the barrel for her to sit on. She smiled at me. “Such a gentleman,” she laughed. “I am that,” I said, nodding, “I am.”

She drank her beer from a plastic cup and I took mine from the bottle. We ate with our fingers and talked. We talked about everything in between high school and now. What she’d been doing (saving money and taking classes at the community college). What I’d been doing (working doing landscaping down in Florida until I realized I hated it). We talked about what we wanted to be doing. She told me she was writing. She submitted stories to magazines and journals but so far had only gotten rejections. I told her I wanted to read them. She told me one about a woman who lives alone in a small town and grows old there, never venturing out beyond the city limits, and reads nothing but travel books. I wanted to tell her something I dreamed about, but I really didn’t know yet. I didn’t know what I wanted. I just wanted to be able to go fishing and swim in the rivers and lakes and lie on my back looking at the sky.

We finished our food and had been talking for a long time when she got up and said she wanted to freshen up. She came back with her lipstick touched up, red and gorgeous. I stood up and went to the counter. They knew me here. I bought a few more beers for the road and carried them out to the truck in a folded up grocery sack. “Where now?” I said to her. “Let’s drive to the lake somewhere,” she said, “Is there a place we can sit and look at the water?”

I remembered a place my grandpa used to take me to shoot off fireworks. There was this old dirt road that bumped its way down to a small clearing where people used to put their boats in. It was always empty down there now that the marina had been built. This was Kentucky and the dirt was red. The headlights looked out on that red dirt and gravel as we made our way on the two skinny tire tracks. I stopped a little ways back from the lake. The moment the engine cut, she reached out and touched my hand. It was dark in the cab. There wasn’t much of a moon and it was hidden behind some trees. “You know what I want, right?” she asked me. I nodded and kept my hands on the wheel. “You’re so sweet,” she said, “I hope I don’t come off too forward for you, but I’ve been thinking about this for a long time.” She sidled up next to me on that bench seat and gave me the sexiest kiss I’d ever known. I wrapped an arm around her and moved a hand to her chest, sliding down over her soft cleavage but she grabbed my wrist before I went any further. “Hold on,” she said.

She pulled the basket out from under her feet and handed it to me. “I brought something,” she said, “For you. Please. And these blankets for the truck bed.” She had a couple thick blankets stuffed behind the seats and handed them to me. I stepped out of the cab and threw the blankets in the back. I opened up the basket and saw what she brought for me. There was a cock and a harness. Jesus. I was excited and a little scared. I’d never been with someone quite so bold before. I grabbed one of the beers and drank it down fast. Fuck. Okay.

I slid my jeans and shorts low enough to strap on the cock. I remembered back to the last girl I fucked back in Florida. It had been awhile. I felt nervous. She called out from the cab, “Tell me when you’re ready.” I hitched my jeans back up but left them hanging open. I went around to her door and opened it. She stepped out, taking my hand. I helped her up into the back and climbed in after her. She had her hand on my cock before she kissed me. “Jesus,” I whispered. Her hand was stroking my cock up and down and it hit my clit just right, warming me all over. I put my hands low on her back and she pulled away from me giggling. “I’m cold,” she said. I went back to the cab to get the blanket from the seat and my jacket. She took my jacket and draped it across her shoulders. I sat down and wrapped the blanket around us.

She pulled the blanket up around her tightly and straddled my hips. She pushed me back against the cab and kissed me hard. I could taste her lipstick. She pushed her tongue deep into my mouth and I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her to me. She kissed me long and slow with a hungry way of sucking on my lips and tongue. I felt thrown into the middle of something. I was on fire. And then she pulled quickly away from me and laughed. “Not so fast,” she said, as if it was me leading us into this. “Huh?” was all I managed in response. I felt fuzzy, muddled. “Look up at the stars,” she said, “It’s a beautiful night,” and she cuddled against my chest. I grabbed another beer for myself, wanting to back off a bit. She was confusing me. I wanted to think. I sucked the bottle with long, cool sips and shivered a little.

We sat there quietly looking up at the night sky. Out here, far from any city lights, the sky opened up above us. When I was nearly done with my beer she asked me for the bottle. She took it in her mouth, not drinking it, but sucking the glass. She stared at me and leaned over it, sucking it like a cock. My mouth hung open. Without thinking, I grabbed my cock and gripped it. “You like my mouth?” she asked, “You want me to suck your cock?” I nodded. She was clearly in control here and could do whatever the fuck she wanted. I sat back waiting for my next set of instructions.

She took my cock in her hand. Twisting and stroking it, pressing it hard against me. “Not too much?” she asked. I shook my head, “No. Oh god. That’s good.” She laughed again, “You’re so easy to please,” she said. She gripped my cock in her hand and brought her face to mine. She licked my lips with her tongue. She teased my mouth open and sucked my tongue. I could feel her on my cock. My heel hit the truck bed. My legs shifted around, scrambling, wanting more. She unbuttoned my shirt and bit my flesh down between my breasts and over my belly. She stopped at my cock and licked the shaft, looking up at me, making sure I was watching her. And then her mouth was on me. I felt her breath on my belly as she took me deep into her throat. I wanted to tug my jeans down, but didn’t dare move. She was hitting my clit just right and my hips responded. I rested a hand on the back of her head, my other hand pushed down into the truck bed as I lifted my hips higher. She stayed put, sucking my cock so good and so long. I was going to come. I could feel it. I was loud, moaning and swearing. She knew when I came. I hit the side of the truck. I bent over her, shaking. “That’s good,” she says.

She pulled me down next to her and pulled the blanket around us. She took my hand and slipped it between her legs, sliding it up under her dress. “I’m going to show you what I want,” she said and held two of my fingers against her wet panties. Together, we stroked the full lips of her labia. I felt her pussy swell under my fingertips. She held me hard against her and pulsed her grip. She drew my fingers up to her clit and back down. “Okay, you now,” she whispered. I heard the arousal in her voice. I felt desperate to please her. I rubbed her pussy the way she showed me and sucked on her neck. I waited until her panties were so wet they stuck to my fingers before pushing them aside. She felt so good. So wet and soft. Her hair was slick and matted. I teased one finger inside her lips and she shuddered against me.

“I want you inside me,” she said, “your fingers.” I leaned my face over hers and kissed her sweet mouth as I pushed two fingers inside her. I sucked on her tongue, taking her breath for a second. My fingers were slow and steady. “Get me ready for your cock,” she said between kisses, “keep it slow and soft.” I liked the way she talked to me. I liked that she knew exactly what she wanted. But I wanted to surprise her, too. I got on my knees and straddled her. I pulled my fingers out of her pussy and rubbed my whole hand slowly against her. I hunched over her, sucking on her neck. She grabbed my head and pulled on my hair where she could get a grip. She moved beneath me. “I want you on your knees,” I said and with a hand at her hip, pushed to help move her into position. I lifted her dress up and pulled her panties down to her knees. “Fuck me hard,” she said.

I held my cock to her and put one hand flat on the small of her back, the other wrapped around her belly. I thrust myself hard inside her. I wanted to fuck her as hard as I could right out of the gate. She called out, a high pitched yelp. I bent over her back and grabbed both shoulders, harnessing her to me, pulling her back against me. “Yes. Fuck!” she yelled out, “Just like that.” “Shut up now,” I groaned and clapped a hand over her mouth, “Shut up and let me fuck you.” I felt my hips bruise as I slammed against her. I held on tight. “Come here, now,” I moaned into her neck, “Come here, beautiful,” and I reached one arm long to rub her clit. I felt her teeth against the palm of my hand when her mouth opened as she came. Her scream was muffled. “There you go,” I told her, repeating it again and again as I caught my breath and kept fucking her like a shadow. “There you go. Let’s rest awhile and look at this sky,” I said, taking my hand off her mouth, “This good Kentucky sky.”

We fucked again in her truck under that big, beautiful sky. She climbed over my hips and rode me. I came underneath her and had to keep going for several minutes until she came, too. My shirt was stuck to my back by the time we wound things down and the night air was cold on my sweat. My muscles ached. I drove her home and couldn’t think of a damn thing to say. She left the radio off and scooted over close to me, pulling my arm around her at one point. The road ahead looked good to me. It had been a good night.

Little

Trigger Warning: This is a Daddy/little story answering a request from a reader that I feel honored to have been asked to fulfill. In particular, the request was to write about a woman recovering from real-life Daddy trauma through a Daddy scenario with her partner. This was a difficult story to write and is likely to be a difficult story to read for some people.

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I heard her crying from the living room. I was sitting in my chair, reading after supper, enjoying a drink. I don’t know when she moved from the couch. I hadn’t noticed. I do this. Get lost in a book. I have no awareness of what goes on around me when I’m deep inside a good novel. I tend to carry on conversation without having any memory later of what was said, or worse, agreed to. I have failed her in this way before. Hurt her feelings. I’ve tried to explain it, but it must be hard to understand.

I marked my place and got up to find her. She was in the bathroom. In an empty tub. Fully dressed. In the dark. It startled me. I saw her there balled up, holding her knees against her chest, sobbing. Her eyes were puffy and red. Snot ran out of her nose. I’d never seen her so undone and I had no idea what had happened. I crouched down and put my hand on the ledge of the bathtub. I knew instinctively not to reach out to her or try to speak. She looked feral. I needed to be still and wait.

“Don’t look at me,” she said, barely intelligible, her words choked with tears. I stood up, moving slowly, not wanting to scare her. I reached my hand down and just held it there for her. I waited. After a long while, she put her hand in mine and I helped her stand up. I hushed her when she started to say something. I undressed her. I started filling the tub. She shivered. “Shhh,” I soothed her and wrapped my arms around her, “Let me take care of you now.”

I settled her into the water and she sat there numb, silent, her legs straight out in front of her. I poured warm water down her back. I lifted her arms and scrubbed her with a washcloth. She didn’t look at me. I washed her hair. I felt nervous. I didn’t know what was happening inside her. I didn’t bother to ask. It was clear that she couldn’t talk. She soaked until the water started to cool and then I pulled the plug to drain the bath and stood up to grab a towel. She got herself out of the bath and I said to her, “That’s good.” She looked up at me as I wrapped the towel around her shoulders and smiled as if nothing was wrong, “Thank you, Daddy,” she said, almost giggling.

I froze for a split-second. I looked down at her feet and dried her off as quickly as I could. She’d never called me that before. We didn’t play that. I didn’t know what this was. She didn’t even sound like herself. I started to sweat, a lot. My t-shirt felt damp on my back and under my arms. I helped her into her pajamas, shaken. I could only think to hush her sweetly. “Hush, baby. It’s alright now. Let’s get you into bed.” She curled up on her side and squeezed my arm, holding onto it. I stayed there with her until she fell asleep. I let the room grow dark around us.

I don’t know when I drifted off, but I woke up with her on top of me, rubbing against me. She was whining and writhing around. I woke with a start, insanely aroused, and grabbed her hips. She jerked her chest up away from me and pushed my shoulders into the mattress. I could barely make out her silhouette.

Suddenly, her mouth was against my ear. With a shaking voice, her spit flying against the side of my face, the words spilled out of her. Her voice whispered secrets with an urgency that grabbed me. “I need to feel little. Tonight. Now. I need you to make me feel little. I need you to hold me down. Pin me. Control me. I need you to throw me off of you. I need to be punished. I want it to hurt. I want to be reminded of this in the morning. I need you to mark me. I love you. I trust you. I need you to do this for me. To me. I need you big and angry. Strong. Please, Daddy. Please.”

When she finished speaking, she went back to grinding on top of me. I was still half asleep and felt the room spinning. “Look at me, Daddy,” she whimpered, “Look how naughty I am.”

I shoved her off of me and sat up, turning on the lamp. She gave me this look that nearly broke me and in an instant, I knew what I had to do. I grabbed her hips and turned her over my lap. She flailed about and I pushed her chest down into the mattress. I gripped the back of her neck and squeezed hard enough to keep her still for a moment. I jerked her pants down. She kicked her feet against the bed, “No, Daddy, No,” she whined. I felt a little afraid of her and unsure about this. But I thought of her in that bathtub and knew she needed me tonight. I love her. I could do this.

“Shut up. Hold still,” I barked. I slapped at her calves. The quick change in me calmed her down. She got quiet. Little. “I’m sorry, baby,” I said, “This is going to sting.” I smacked her thighs first. I pet her ass and ran the backs of my nails across her skin before spanking her with quick, sharp blows. She kicked her feet on the bed until I held them down with one hand, spanking her with the other. “You’re getting nice and pink for me,” I told her, “You’re going to feel this in the morning.” I wasn’t so sure about that, but I wanted her to believe it. I eased up. I pet her. I snapped at her with sharp blows, my fingers held tight together, my fingers held wide apart. I listened to her, watched her wriggle beneath me. I tried to meet her wherever she was going. And she needed to go further.

“Stand up,” I said “Go get your hairbrush.” I pulled her pants back up. She held the wall as she walked out of the room. I ran my hand through my hair and took a deep breath. I rubbed my sweaty palms on my thighs. I stood up when I heard her coming back. She held the brush out to me, shiny black like lacquer, but plastic. The black, plastic bristles curved out from a bright red oval. I grabbed her wrist and squeezed it. “Look at me,” I said. She kept her chin down. I squeezed her wrist more tightly and nudged her chin with my thumb. “Look at me, babygirl,” I whispered, “I’m sorry, but I have to do this. Do you understand?” She nodded, “I know it, Daddy. I know I’m a bad girl.” I nodded at her, “Do you know how much I love you?” I had to swallow, my voice was close to cracking. I wanted to drop to my knees and hold her. I bottled it up. Held it inside me. She looked up at me. I felt her reading every thought that flashed through my brain. “I know it, Daddy. I know you love me,” she said and then turned around, bent over the bed, and pulled her pants down.

I gripped the hair brush and ran the bristles over her already pink ass. She jerked away from me. I put one hand on her shoulder, pulling her towards me. I smacked her ass with the back of the brush. I smacked her over and over again. Loving her so much. Smacking her hard. Hearing her start to whimper and cry. “Jesus Christ,” I yelled, “Why do you make me hit you?” She was sobbing now, “I’m sorry, Daddy. I’m so sorry.” I stopped hitting her when she said that. I saw the red marks all over her ass and thighs. I sat down on the bed and pulled her onto my lap. She flopped over my knees. I twisted over her and kissed her neck. I ran my hands over her skin. Hovering, my hands felt the heat rise off of her reddened ass.

My brain started moving ahead. What would I do next? What did she need? I jerked her hair, pulling her neck back. “Get off me,” I said and shoved at her hips. She was a little shaky moving off the bed. She shivered. “Curl up and suck your thumb while you wait for me,” I said cruelly and headed to my dresser. I took my time. I grabbed what I needed and went into the bathroom. I started to undress and then went back to check on her. She was there, curled up, with half the blanket wrapped over her, sucking her thumb. I pet her hair. “I’ll just be a minute or two,” I told her. She nodded. “You look so sweet,” I said, “I’m sorry I had to hurt you.” She nodded again and squeezed her eyes shut, “It’s okay, Daddy. I know you love me.”

I swallowed hard, walking away. I undressed and stepped into the shower. I ran the water hot over me. Hot, hot water and steam. When I stepped out my skin was red. I felt myself start sweating again. I stood there looking at myself in the mirror. My face looked hard. I toweled off and strapped on my cock. I stared at it. I held it in my hand. I hesitated. I pulled my jeans back on, tugged my t-shirt over my head, and walked back into the bedroom.

I’d only been out of the room for maybe five minutes. She was so still and quiet I thought she was asleep, but then I heard the sound of her sucking her thumb. “I’m back,” I announced. She stayed put, her eyes closed. I walked closer to the bed. “You’re almost too old to suck your thumb, you know.” She frowned but kept her eyes closed and sucked harder. I stared down at her. I felt my stomach shake. I wasn’t sure I could do this. I wanted to stop this whole thing. In that moment of starting to back away, something ran through me. I felt myself playing a part for her. Something she’d scripted for me. I threw everything else away and took a deep breath.

I pressed my cock up against the back of her hand. She froze. I rubbed my cock over her hand and against her cheek. I wrapped my hand around it, pressing it against my clit as I slid it across her face, moaning. She lay so quiet. I rubbed my cock on her and let this deep, low moan escape, “Baby,” I sighed, “Come on.” I bent over her and ran my fingers through her hair. I tilted her face up towards me. I slid my hand under her cheek and rubbed my thumb against her her lips, pushing her thumb away, opening her mouth. She slipped her hand around my cock and pulled me into her mouth. I shifted my hand lower under her head, supporting her to let her neck relax, and moaned louder. I sucked in my breath, my chest was on fire. “Yes. That’s so good,” I told her. We were here. She looked lost, gone, stone, sucking on my cock like this. Being little. Tiny. I didn’t understand her. I didn’t understand. I loved her so much.

She sucked my cock until my legs shook. I had to pull her off of me. She held her mouth open, straining. “Hush now,” I said and slid onto the bed next to her. I rolled her onto her back and threw the covers off to the side. Her arms flopped next to her head, loose and bent at the elbows. I grabbed a pillow and shoved it under her ass, then another one. I knelt at her pussy and adjusted her legs on either side of me. Her body was limp. She let me position her how I wanted. I pushed down on her thighs. I let my cock fall against her pussy. She turned her head to the side and looked at the wall. I rubbed against her. I could feel how wet she was.

I rubbed my cock against her and called to her in a deep whisper. I told her how sweet she looked. I told her how nicely she sucked my cock. I told her how good she is. “You’re such a good girl for me,” I said, “I want to make you feel good. Does this feel good?” I let the tip of my cock press so slightly into her pussy. She arched her back and looked up at me and then moved her eyes to the wall behind her. Her hips moved a little. Her fingers stiffened. I slid my hands up to her waist and pulled her onto my cock.

“You like this?” I asked her. Her head nodded almost imperceptibly. “I need to hear you,” I said, “You need to tell me, baby.” She looked up at me, her eyes were glassy and open wide. “You’re so big,” she said softly. “Tell me,” I grunted. “You’re so big, Daddy,” she said. Her words rushed through me like a jolt. “Look at you, little baby,” I whispered, “Look how pretty you are.” She closed her eyes and tilted her head back again. I leaned over her and grabbed her hands in mine. “So pretty,” I said and pressed my weight onto her hands so that they sank down into the mattress. My fingers threaded into hers. I was pounding her hard with my cock and breathing open mouthed just above her face. She came close to coming. I shifted myself back up on my knees. I lifted her hips off the pillow and fucked her as hard as I could. I was panting. My body felt stiff. I could feel my age creeping in, my sore back, but I fucked her as hard as I’ve ever fucked her. She started to say something. She was coming. Her hands reached up to my chest. Her arms long and stiff in front of her. Her fingers were wide and pressed into my ribs. Her head swung back and forth for a moment as if she was saying, “No.” Her eyes were squeezed shut and her mouth wide open. She made the most beautiful noise. Something I didn’t recognize. I smiled down at her. I was breathing hard.

I slowed my pace but kept fucking her. A long, slow thrust with a hard jolt at the end to push myself deep inside her. I bent myself over her and held my fingers to her lips. She licked me with her tongue, so wet. I moved my whole hand over her mouth and held her. My thumb and forefinger gripped her cheekbones. I clamped her mouth shut. Her tongue rubbed hard against the palm of my hand. In an instant, I started to come. I wasn’t expecting that. It never happens to me. But I came with an intensity that scared me. “Fuck,” I yelled out, “I’m coming.” I kept slamming my cock into her as I buckled over. I wrapped my arms around her and kept my cock deep inside her. I felt a trickle of sweat run over my shoulder. My neck was damp. “Fuck,” I said and kissed her temple. “Thank you, Daddy.” she said in a soft whisper. Her arms wrapped around my back. Her hands felt tiny on my shoulders. She kissed my neck. “Thank you,” she said. I felt her shake beneath me. I held her tight. “Hush, baby,” I said, “I love you.”

Detached

I felt almost cruel. There was an urgency about me, coursing through me. I wanted to look at her. I’d had a good day. Things at work fell easily into place. I felt that buzz all day long. Everything felt good. Electric. Walking down the hall there was an electricity. I looked around me at the brighter colors. I reached out to touch the walls lightly with my fingertips. Something was humming at a frequency I couldn’t quite pick up. But I felt it.

After lunch, my mind wandered again and again. I pictured her. I saw her face, that sexy smirk on her lips popped into my mind and I grabbed at her in my imagination. In a split second, the thought got my heart pounding. I had to pause outside the conference room to collect myself before heading into the next meeting.

All afternoon it was like this. Pop. Her face, that smile, a hint of cleavage, my fingers in her hair, her tongue on my lip. Teasing. Soft.

“Damn it,” I muttered under my breath. I was busy. Too much to do. Working hard and quick. Some days, when I suddenly want her, there’s a fire and some days a fog. This day was the fire. I felt so good. And then the craving to take, to go get her and demand.

I picked up my phone, “When will you be home. I’m picking you up.” She sounded surprised but I heard her smile, “7 o’clock. No. 6:30.” I hung up. I clawed at my thighs. I needed to finish up at work. I barreled through the next two hours fully focused on work before tossing my laptop in my bag and heading out. I swung by my place to drop things off and wash my face. I was hot. My muscles were wiry. A set trap ready to spring. I thought about jerking off but didn’t have time.

It wasn’t dark enough when I picked her up. I’d imagined rolling up the block and unzipping my pants. But it was too early. Too bright. That’s not my style. I rubbed the bulge in my pants. She saw my agitation and sweetly tried to draw it out of me, “What’s wrong, baby?” I don’t let her call me baby. She knows that. I didn’t say anything.

I drove us to a parking garage, circled the car up to the top floor, and parked in a dark corner. “Get in the back,” I said and stepped out of the car. I watched her get out of the front seat and move to the back. I waited until she closed the door and then I stood there and stared at her through the glass. She kept her eyes low. Her hands moved to her shirt buttons. I stared. She kept going. I watched her lift her skirt and stroke her inner thigh up and down. I pressed my hands flat against the glass and leaned in close, fogging the pane briefly with each exhale.

It took her a minute to realize that I was going to just stand there for awhile. She relaxed her body, leaned back against the door, and looked up at me. Slowly, she lifted one leg into the seat and let the other fall wide. I could see her bright red lace panties and her hair matted underneath the fabric. I looked into her eyes. I felt cold. Removed. I wanted to watch. I nodded my head at her as if to say, “Go on. More.”

She reached her hand between her legs and stroked her pussy long and slow, sometimes pausing to circle her clit. I felt my cunt twitch in response. I rubbed my chest through my shirt and squeezed at my own nipple. She saw me and bit her lip. She looked lonely, almost sad, wanting. I nodded.

Her fingers pushed under her panties and I watched her knuckles move under the lace. Her body started to move. She worried her brow a little. I wanted to touch her. I imagined her soft, wet pussy in my hands. I remembered it. But I stayed put. I watched.

Her chest flushed a little. And her neck. Her hand stopped moving but her hips kept circling. I watched her face as she came. I watched her settle into it. A naughty smile crept over her face. She stared straight back at me, blinking.

I opened the door, climbed in beside her, and unzipped my pants. I pulled out my cock and stroked it. Neither of us said anything. I grabbed the back of her head and pulled her into my lap. “I want to watch you suck it,” I said, my voice cracked in anticipation. My mouth went dry. She nodded.

I pulled her head so her mouth hovered above my cock. Ready, open, her lips looked bright red. Ripe. She raised her eyes to me. Her hands wrapped around my ass. I wished I’d thought to cuff her wrists behind her back. I would have liked to control her more fully. But she kept her hands in place as if she read my thoughts. She was still except for the movements her head made as I adjusted my grip.

I held her head for a long time. Longer than I expected. I just held it there. Waiting. Both of us frozen. The pause made me burn. Her too. I watched her cheeks flush a deep crimson. I saw her eyes plead with me. “Soon,” I whispered and caught myself overwhelmed, a lump in my throat. That was all I needed to act. My emotions kicked me into gear.

My fingers held her head in a tight grip and pushed her mouth onto my cock. I watched her take me into her mouth. Her eyes closed. She looked lost. Intent. I saw a drive in her to please me. I usually roll right over that and keep us focused on her. But tonight, I soaked it in. I let her suck me off to please me. I took my pleasure in it. I leaned my head back, keeping my fingers wrapped tight in her hair, pushing and pulling her on and off my cock, kicking my knees wide. “Fuck,” I moaned, louder than I’d intended. She didn’t break. I laughed low, deeply satisfied, looser somehow, free. My chest filled with deep breaths again and again. “Fuck,” I kept repeating, “Fuck.”

I didn’t get off with her sucking my cock, but I came close. Her chin was wet when I pulled her up to me. She tortured my nipples with her teeth and somehow left a deep bruise along one rib. I leaned back and let her do what she wanted. I let go of her. I watched.

Our mouths were open with our lips touching when her fingers circled my clit. We stayed like this a long time, not kissing, but panting. Her warm breath pulsed inside my mouth. She built me up. My hips followed her. My hands pulling her tight against me. My fingers raked down her back. “Come for me,” she said, “I want to feel it.”

I hooked my fingers around her shoulders and pulled her away from me. Her fingers stayed on my clit. I looked down and saw where her arm disappeared into my jeans, under my shorts. I stared at my cock which just sat there, moved out of the way. I let my eyes wander slowly over my own chest and belly, shiny with sweat. I watched my hips rock against her hand. I felt her eyes on me. She was whispering. I don’t know what she said. I don’t know. But I reached my arms out along the seat-back and held on, shaking, as I came for what felt like a few minutes.

I closed my eyes for a long time after that. I think I fell half asleep. I was suddenly aware that she was sucking on my neck with her hand between her legs, coming. I moaned a sleepy moan and pulled her to me, my arms wrapped tightly around her. “You’re nice,” I said. She smiled into my neck. “You are,” I added, “This is good.”

Cool White Plaster

Before you come here tonight, I run my hands against the cool plaster of the wall just outside my bedroom. The door is scratched. I don’t know how. It was like this when I moved in. Light, thin scratches in the dark wood. At first I thought, “A cat, maybe a dog.” But then I noticed the scratches were all over. Way up high on the door. No pet could do that.

I stare at all the tiny lines in the wood as my palm flattens against the wall. Cool. The air is warm for you in my house, but these walls are always cool. I remember seeing you press yourself up against them in the deep heat of summer. “These cool walls,” you said, luxuriously sighing. You rolled your body against the wall. Dancing along its edge.

I mash my nose and lips against the plaster. I want to smell you. Taste what’s left of you here. But you’re gone. The thought of you there, the wall under my hands, excites me. I push my hips forward without thinking. My hands slide down the plaster slowly on a jagged path towards my cunt. I grab my thighs. I’m already throbbing and wet, curving my body hard against the wall that pushes back against me.

I turn my check against the cool white flatness. I listen to the bones of my house but hear only my own rustling. The dull scraping of my belt, my frantic search for friction, pressure. The sound is heavy but still somehow hollow. I growl. My face is hot. I stick my tongue out and taste the air. Angry. This need. Sometimes I want it to be angry. Now.

I think to myself, “She’ll be here soon. What am I doing? Why?” But I can’t stop now. I won’t. I don’t want to. This wall. Where I held you. Where, soon, I’ll smash myself against you again. I remember, or imagine, or both. My hand splayed and pressing into your back. My back stretching as I reach low and lift the hem of your dress. I will press you up against this wall and grip the back of your skull, my fingers threading in your hair. I’ll draw a pink mark to your cheekbone from the pressure.

Right now, it’s only me. My fingers on my own skin. What I feel is what I touch. And I like it. I smile. I feel the sharp edges of my teeth scrape my knuckles as I get my fingers wet.

You’ll be here soon. You’ll know. I’ll tell you. I’ll show you. I’ll be so raw I won’t ease up. Not tonight. Not after you get here. Not for a good, long while.