Prey by Lady Lisa

THE PREY by Destiny Teardrop

Darkness falls.  The allotted time approaches.

I stride steadily, confidently, purposefully. The sound of my sharp stiletto heels resounding off the walls of the long, dark alleyway. The rain falls heavily:  large, cold, wet droplets, bouncing on the paving stones.  I keep my head up, forward, occasionally lifting my hand to push my  hair from her eyes as the rain continues to pour. I am wearing black, naturally, the low light from the street lamps reflecting on the wet leather of my coat.

At the end of the alleyway, he cowers in the corner. Naked but for a leather collar, kneeling, waiting as instructed .  His head is lowered, he shivers in the rain. His body is covered with a fine sheen of moisture, both sweat and rain water. He hears me approaching.  He trembles with fear and excitement. He wants this, he needs this…he needs me, but he fears me also. My power enthralls him, terrifies him, entraps him.

My footsteps grow louder as I approach him. I stop. He sees my feet, the pointed toe of my boots an inch from his flesh. Time seems to stand still as he feels my presence. The pitter patter of the rainfall fades into the distance, all he can hear is his own ragged breathing. He dare not speak.

I bend down and place a leather gloved hand on his neck, grasping under his chin, I lift his head up, my voice is firm, assured as the corners of my mouth curl up into a slight smile,  ‘Look upon your Destiny’ I tell him, as I attach a leash to the collar on his neck and tug him, crawling, after me.

The air was thick with the heavy scent of lust. I could feel it in every pore of my skin. My heart was thumping hard in my breast as I pulled him along behind me, towards the room. I could hear his ragged breathing, punctuated by the occasional whimper as he struggled to keep up with me, the leash tugging hard on the collar I had placed around his neck.

I paused at the door and knelt down so that my face was level with his. I leant in close to him and lifted up his chin. I looked into his eyes: they were watery, his pupils were large, enquiring, he was dripping wet, soaked through from the rain and  perspiring quite heavily from his crawling to keep up.

I smiled at him, 'Nervous, my boy?'.
I heard him audibly gulp as he replied, 'y..yes....my Mistress and excited also'.
I playfully patted the side of his face, my leather-clad hand making contact with his cheek,
'Good boy, just how you should be.'
I grasped his collar and stood, raising him up to standing as I did so. 'Now remember, this is a test. One you must pass if you wish to please me and gain my permanent collar. Is that understood?'.  He nodded as I pulled him into the room, pushing the door firmly shut behind me.

'Get into the bathroom and prepare. Your instructions are in there' I tossed a small black bag to him. He caught it and muttered, 'Yes Mistress' as he proceeded to the bathroom.

Inside the bag was a large butt plug, lube, four clothes pegs, a razor, toiletries and a list of instructions.

The list read:

                Follow these instructions in this order:
                    *Shower
                    * Plug your ass
                    * Shave your genital area
                    * Peg your nipples
                    * Peg your perineum
                    * Edge
                    *Come crawling back to my feet plugged, pegged and erect

While he was in the bathroom, I removed my jacket and poured myself a large glass of red wine. I sat on the upright chair, crossed my legs and sipped my wine, my booted foot swinging back and forth as I relaxed and waited patiently for my slut to emerge, ready to please me. I picked up the newspaper and idly turned the pages, catching up on the latest gossip. My ear stayed tuned to the noises in the bathroom and I smiled.

After about 15 minutes the door opened, I looked up and he crawled out on all fours. I felt my stomach knot and my clitoris tingle at the sight of his naked, masculine body as he approached. He paused at my feet and knelt up, legs spread, hands behind back, the way he had been instructed to. His arousal was very evident.

'Good boy' I said as I leant forward and flicked the peg attached to his left nipple. He winced slightly, 'Oh, is that a little tender?' I chuckled as I lightly touched the peg and twisted it anti-clockwise. He whimpered, I smiled and felt the growing moisture in my panties.

I stood up, still smiling and unbuttoned my blouse. My black, lacy bra was now  visible, as were my large breasts spilling over the top of the bra cup. I leant behind and unzipped my skirt, easing it down over my full hips, I let it drop the ground then stepped out of it and kicked it swiftly to one side. I pulled off my shirt and tossed it away to join my skirt on the floor. I now stood before him in my black underwear, incuding lacey top stockings, suspender belt and knee length, black leather, stiletto boots.

His jaw dropped as he let out a moan of desire. I grinned as I saw his cock was now even more rigid. 'Mistress, you are so beautiful', he panted.

'Rub your cock and fuck your arse for me, my slut' I commanded.

 'yes Mistress' he muttered as his hands went to work.

 I stood before him, my right hand sliding down into my panties and I too, began to rub. I moved closer, my booted toes touching his spread thighs. I slowly rubbed my wet cunt, soaking my fingers with my hot silky juices as I watched my slut getting closer and closer to the edge.

I pulled my hand out of my panties and wiped my index finger across his top lip.

'Do NOT lick your lips' I commanded.

'Y...yes..Mistress' he whimpered then groaned. as I pushed  my finger in my mouth and sucked it, before sliding my hand back into my panties again.

Within a few seconds, his breathing was faster, louder, he was visibly trembling. 'Mistress....please....I'm on the edge' he gasped.

'Hold it. Don't stop. Don't you dare cum', I said firmly as I placed my fingers on either side of my lace panties and pulled then down and over my boots, stepping out of them and tossing them over my shoulder. I stood back up, legs slightly open as I continued to pleasure myself. His eyes were fixed on my sex. He licked his lips greedily.

In an instant, I leant down and slapped him hard across his left cheek, a resounding SMACK echoed in the room as my right hand made contact, my wet fingers leaving a trail of wetness on his upper cheek.

I raised my voice, 'I said don't lick!'. He looked at me aghast as his cheek began to turn red.

'I'm sorry Mistress' he moaned as my index and middle finger returned to my cunt and  I began to stroke myself again, my throbbing clitoris swollen under my fingertips, my juices flowing more readily at the sight of my whimpering, desperate slut.

Tease and denial, my very favourite thing. Oh yes, this was going to be a fun night.

StarStruck by Anonymous

Starstruck

Walking into the courtyard, my heart's beating,
Drop to my knees, say my greeting in this sacred meeting,
Misses and submissives all around me speaking,
Hear my nerves, as my heart keeps beating!

And soon as I look up, She catches my eye,
And I feel my soul scream as I freeze on sight.

See the lights in my eyes during this darkened hour,
the eyes upon me and I feel so sour.
Fear grips my soul, but I won't loose hope,
No, I gotta get a grip, gotta hold my own.
Cause this is the big time, the right time, simple,
best behavior, on my knees cause I want to be subtle.
But with the beauty that surrounds me here, so,
I freeze in place cause I'm Starstruck now!

The Ladies talk, the subs will walk, I see Her eyes upon me,
Can feel my body shake as the command is drawn upon me.
Confusion grips my mind, a self produced haze,
I follow Her commands and I'm trying to behave.
It takes nerves of steel, but mine are made of straw,
She sees right through me, her eyes cut me like a saw.
But still somewhere in this time I feel a spark within,
Confidence spiking as I breath again.

And as soon as I look up, She catches my eyes
I feel my soul scream as I freeze on sight.

See the lights in my eyes during this darkened hour,
the eyes upon me and I feel so sour.
Fear grips my soul, but I won't loose hope,
No, I gotta get a grip, gotta hold my own.
Cause this is the big time, the right time, simple,
best behavior, on my knees cause I want to be subtle.
But with the beauty that surrounds me here, so,
I freeze in place cause I'm Starstruck now.

And I hear Her voice soften as I meet her approval,
Her voice is like a drug, and I have to be truthful,
My body screams it's pleasure but I have to hold it in,
Cause I don't wanna be starstruck again...

See the lights in my eyes during this darkened hour,
the eyes upon me and I feel so sour.
Fear grips my soul, but I won't loose hope,
No, I gotta get a grip, gotta hold my own.
Cause this is the big time, the right time, simple,
best behavior, on my knees cause I want to be subtle.
But with the beauty that surrounds me here, so,
I freeze in place cause I'm Starstruck now!

First Date by Lady Karrie

Our first real life date

And it is as terrifying as it is exciting.

Time which seemed once so slow is beginning to warp forward at an increasing speed. Reality is biting arse and not just my slave’s whose delicate skin has more to fear. In fact he appears much more calmer than I.

Exciting, appealing, breathtaking, dangerous and dramatic.

Terrifying, fearful, ominous, daunting and unnerving.

Let me set the scene….

He receives a text message at 6:35 pm. I am 10 minutes away, get prepared.

He pours a glass of chilled rose wine, grabs an ashtray and places them side by side in the kitchen. He unlocks the outside door to his home so that she may enter freely and promptly walks into the dining area where he anxiously glances at the perfectly laid out instruments to the left of him.

He will finally feel the impact of each one of them tonight.Something he has dreaded yet yearned.

Apart from his collar and leather harness, he strips naked. Bends over the dining table and hurriedly fastens both ankles to the cuffs.

Leaning forward he grips the rubber hood, stretches it tightly over his face dulling his hearing and eradicating his sight. He snaps the remaining cuffs on both wrists as a shudder trembles through his body and he cant quite distinguish if its terror or excitement.

He had begged her to break him this evening, someone he had never met in real life. Pleaded in fact.

He presses his head to the hard wood and inhales deeply.

Now all he has to do is wait.

She sends a text message at 6:35 pm. I am 10 minutes away, get prepared.

She enters a taxi and gives the driver the unfamiliar address.She considers how his skin will feel as her hand strokes a cheek. How he will react to the sound of her voice so close. How he will taste as she claims a kiss. Will he flinch at the first sting of the cane. Shall his tears disgust or delight.

She flicks away nervous shards of doubt. She knew not  the future. But one thing was certain.

Tonight
He would scream.

Hurt The One You Love by Mark

You always love the one you hurt

It had all ended disastrously. It seemed to him now that mutual recrimination had led to that special kind of hatred that only people who once loved each other are capable of.

It had started on Second Life, as such things often do. She had been his Mistress for several years, and his online service had gradually transmuted into regular meetings in real life. Her name was ‘Mistress Siren’ and they had fallen into that especially intense love that sometimes arises between Mistress and slave. But she lived in a different state, and that had been part of the problem. His work schedule meant he could only fly out to see her irregularly. As time passed, he had come to resent the way in which she seemed to take for granted that he would make this awkward journey whenever she wanted him. But it was not just that. He had wanted excitement. He had wanted kink. He had wanted the fantasy experience. And sometimes that had happened. But other times: yes there had been service, these had been slavery. But it was, somehow, the *wrong* sort. She had sensed his dissatisfaction, and had talked with him about it. But he had been unable or, maybe, unwilling, to express himself to her. Why couldn’t she just *know*, if she was supposed to be a mistress? Their last couple of meetings had been bitter with his acrimonious bickering and the painful silences that followed. Eventually, she had withdrawn her collar, and his final exchanges, as he left her home forever, had been filled with bile and resentment.

Some months later, he ventured back into Second Life, keeping well clear of his old visiting places there. But Second Life is like a ramshackle old mansion: there are always new spaces to explore. Eventually he found himself in a place he had never been before. The people were unfamiliar, but their shared interests in bdsm and femdom were not. As months passed he eased himself into the community, and finally met a new online mistress, a long-time resident there, Mistress Anna. Unlike Mistress Siren, Mistress Anna lived close by in real life, although she was still a relative stranger to his city, and from the very beginning he realised that, this time around, his interests were almost identical to those of his new mistress.

‘I want you on your knees’, she had told him. ‘I want to hear you screaming when I whip you. It pleases me. It excites me. I want to look into your eyes when I rake your skin – I want to see the trails of blood, and to watch your tears splash over them.’ He had felt an instant excitement as they talked. This, finally was the fantasy experience that he had lived with in his mind for so many years. ‘But understand: this is *my* femdom, not yours,’ she had said. ‘We will live out *my* femdom, as I want it, when I want it. That is what excites me more than all the pain and tears – that you bend your will to mine, whatever that may be. You either accept that, or we stop now.’ As Mistress Anna spoke, he found himself reflecting on the past, and he gradually realised that this new version of himself was more open to experience than before. Yes, he wanted the pain, the humiliation. That would never leave him. But now he understood he wanted something deeper: he wanted the very control that Mistress Anna had just described. As he told her all of this, he realised that for the first time in his D/s life he was opening his heart fully and, at the same time, really listening, really understanding, what it was that *she* wanted. And it was not just a matching of D/s needs; she made him laugh in a way that Mistress Siren never had. He was interested in her, in her life, in a way that he had never been before, and gradually he realised that their connection was far deeper than he could ever have hoped.

Over time, as they talked, a wary affection grew between them. Eventually they discussed meeting. But, she had told him, this would be a new experience for her. She had never before done anything like what she was now proposing – did he understand that? His old self would have been filled with pleased satisfaction, knowing that he was experienced in a way that she was not. But his new self was different: as weeks passed, he talked honestly and sincerely about what a meeting might mean for them both. And so, eventually, they agreed to spend time in real life together.

He walked down the sun-dappled avenue, his heart racing as he looked for the meeting place. As he strolled from out of the sun into the tree-shade then back out into the light, his thoughts also flickered from light to dark.

‘Christ I want this so much. Finally someone who sees deep inside me. And someone I understand too. All her wants, all her desires, everything that she wants from me. She is so perfect’, he mused. ‘Maybe if I had only spent the time to learn what Mistress Siren wanted, it would not have ended so badly. Perhaps,’ he thought sadly, ‘she was right - I never really paid attention to anything except what I wanted. Maybe it *was* all about me. At least I know never to make that mistake again.’

He came to with a start, as he realised he was standing outside the bar he and Mistress Anna had agreed on. As he walked inside, he barely took in the expensive fixtures, the well-dressed clientele and the waiting staff in their crisp uniforms. His eyes struggled to adjust to the gloom after the bright sunshine, and he unsteadily made his way to the back booth where they had agreed to meet. He could see her gaze fixed on him as he moved between the tables and chairs. As he drew close, his eyes finally adjusted to the darkened interior. His new Mistress smiled up at him. It was Mistress Siren.

‘You are mine forever’ she said. ‘At last, you finally know me as I have always known everything about you. Except for one thing,” she smiled, pointing at the drink before him, ‘I hope you like pina coladas’.

July Confession by Cam

Every boy in the room is about to cross his legs and take a sharp intake of breath.

Urethral sounding.

OK, maybe not every guy, but admit it, most of you guys did, even if it was just a little wince.  Not that you should be scared about it.  Hopefully some of you have tried it - for you, you can see if you agree with what I think.  It's one of the most amazing things you can have done to your cock - but yeah, there is a small risk involved and you have to take precautions.

There are plenty of guides out there about how to stuff a cock safely, so I'm not going to cover that ground.  I'm going to describe the feeling.

I'm not a spring chicken, but I do get pretty hard.  Its a useful thing to be able to do - and you appreciate it more as you get older.  But there's no erection quite like one where you're filled with a steel rod [Scotty accent:] *up yer shaft*.

Its a superpower.  It makes you feel like you could knock over tall buildings with it.

At the same time though, you're incredibly vulnerable - here's your play partner with their hand on what is basically a blunt weapon, and it is so far inside you it could do some serious damage (no, I'm not trying to put you off!)

As a result, you have to be calm, relaxed even, and enjoy the sensations She is giving you.  You'll want to fuck; to thrust, to have something wrapped around your cock, and you'll be ..oh, so desperate to cum.

Don't resist those feelings, but try not to act on them either.  This is being done with you, for you, to you.  I'm pretty certain your partner will be getting some small pleasure out of it too - watching that steel rod slide in and out of you, while you try not to explode (yeaaah...that's the mindfuck!) - but this is your little slutty moment where you can lie back and think of whatever nationality you identify with.  For me, that's ancient Mesopotamia.

Like all good things though, it will come to an end - probably because She wants to ride your impossibly hard cock.  The feeling as it slides out of you is...uuuuh...amazing, climactic, and...a little bit sad too - that feeling of emptiness, that something is missing.

But hey, it was good while it lasted, and now you're going to do something else fun!  Isn't She good to you?

Oh, and don't forget to pee after!

July Confession by Erik

It was a lovely evening spent with a lovely Lady.  She asked to read her poetry for me so I could critique it.  Of course I said yes, how could I resist.  Her beautiful smile, her wonderful curves and charming personality, not to mention that lovely English accent.  How could anyone say no?  She whisked me away to her beach side cottage.  I had never been there before that wonderful day.  She quickly showed me her home.  The clocks ticking in the background.  The waves gently crashing upon the rocks outside her windows.  The sun just peeking above the water.  Off in the distance you could hear the song of the birds.  After the brief tour I knelt on the carpet and waited with baited breathe to hear her poem.  I was eager to hear it as others had spoken very kindly to her talent as a word smith.  As she read her poem with an elegance and sophistication that would have made Shakespeare smile with approval it was as if the ground moved under my knees.  Her voice, her tone, her smile shook the very ground I knelt upon.  Really it did...I was experiencing a 5.2 magnitude earthquake that was shaking my wonderful 23rd floor apartment.  Yes, Yes, Yes I know all the submissives are jealous now because I have literally had my world rocked by the wonderfully amazing Lady Lobbie.  

A Story of Stocks by Dann

A Story of Stocks
Dann Vale

Daniel watched the sheriff walk away after having secured him in the stocks next to the courthouse. He sat on a narrow rail with his legs and arms stretched out before him, his ankles and wrists trapped by the wooden panels positioned in front of the uncomfortable perch. He knew the morning mist was going to become unbearable steam within a few hours. He felt stupid for staying too long with his friends at the tavern.  A night in jail and a summary sentence of a day in the stocks was his reward for deciding that a tree in the town square was a good place for a drunken nap.  His friend Adam, who was by his side for the misadventure, remained in the courthouse. He was in more serious trouble because he fought with the men who arrested them.

Daniel felt apprehension for his friend but began to dwell on his own situation.  For some reason he felt compelled to test the strength of his bonds, pulling his arms and legs as if he could free himself.  The tightness around his wrists frustrated him.  Not being able to bend his knees worried him.  He could not move; he was barely able to shift his bottom on the rail.  He was helpless.  Starting to sweat even more than the rising heat called for, he began breathing slowly and deeply trying to calm himself.

The loud slap of a closing door disturbed the silence and he realized the town was beginning to stir.  A shopkeeper opening his store down the street returned Daniel’s glance with a scowl.  The sheriff stepped onto the porch of the courthouse and grinned smugly when he caught Daniel’s eye.  He heard a coach approaching the spot where the stocks detained him in plain view from the street.  Daniel bowed his head in shame.  His face flushed and his shoulders slumped when he heard a woman giggling as the coach passed.  It stopped a block away and he peeked to watch three women exit the coach and enter a house. Which one found his predicament amusing, he wondered.

Daniel did his best to ignore the increasing number of people passing by, grateful when they ignored him, embarrassed if they snickered or expressed disapproval.  He hung his head in a foggy resignation, closing his eyes and trying to nod off and pass the time.  An hour or two passed and his discomfort was getting serious.  Despite all attempts to find a tolerable position, his ass was aching from the sharp wooden rail.  His wrists felt raw where they were rubbing on the stocks as he tried to relieve his muscles and stretch or rest on the device.  The heat began to add to his torture.  Thirst began to preoccupy him.  No way to escape or relax.  No relief was possible.  He settled into a dull numbness.

He was jolted alert by the same giggle he heard before.  This time it was close.  He looked up and saw the woman who was amused by the spectacle of him in bondage at the center of town.  She said nothing as she smiled at him.  He could see some amount of contempt, yet there was also a sparkle in her eyes.  Daniel could feel his cheeks redden.  He looked down at the ground, then at his restrained hands and feet, then back up at her.   She stared at him for a moment, then looked over to the courthouse door.  He lowered his head again but his eyes widened.  A terror came over him that she might look too closely and discover that he was getting an erection.   She looked down at him for a moment and smiled again, then she walked into the courthouse.  Adam was about to be sentenced and a small crowd was gathering inside.  Daniel was momentarily distracted from his pain as he tried to determine if she saw the bulge in his pants.

Another hour passed as Daniel ached and sweated in misery.  A group of people walked from the courthouse to the stocks and stood near Daniel, but their attention was directed back at the building they just left with the exception of one, the woman who had been enjoying his fate all day.  She stared directly into his eyes with a smile that was cruel in its satisfaction at his plight. She continued looking at him as his friend Adam emerged from the courthouse with the sheriff leading him toward the spot where Daniel was bound. Daniel’s focus was divided between the power this woman was beginning to have over him and the fate of his friend.  He watched Adam stumble trying to keep up with brisk pace of the sheriff who controlled his direction with a firm grip on his arm.  He realized his friend was being led to the whipping post located a few feet from the stocks.  Daniel looked back at the woman, but she was now watching Adam’s shirt being removed and his shackles being affixed to the post.

Adam looked at Daniel with a defiant grin on his face as the sheriff locked his shackles to the whipping post, forcing his arms over his head. Then Adam moved his eyes directly into the gaze of the woman as though they were continuing a silent conversation.  Daniel could see the woman’s taut posture, her body apparently electrified by what she was seeing.  His friend grimaced with the first blow from the whip but did not move his eyes from hers.  Several more lashes were administered.  Daniel flinched as the sound of the sickening smacks reached his ears.  His friend’s knees were starting to fail but Adam kept looking at the woman, who seemed to be drawing on his energy and giving him strength at the same time.  Fascinated by the connection he was witnessing, Daniel became aroused again.

Adam finally sighed and moaned which seemed to satisfy the sheriff who ended the whipping. The woman regained her composure and the smile returned to her face.  After studying Adam’s red face and limp body, she turned to Daniel and nodded almost imperceptibly. He blushed and became aware again of the extreme discomfort of his body.  He pulled at the restraints again, struggling visibly.  She openly laughed, turned and walked away from the friends whose misfortune provided such visceral pleasure for her.   As he sat there enduring the last hour of his punishment, Daniel couldn’t help but wonder if the corporal punishment he and his friend experienced were a discouragement from drinking too much or an enticement.

2 Way Street by Anonymous

Two way street Pt.1

There she was. Laying on the bed upon her side. Aesthetically so demure and yet, in her yes, that familiar predatory sparkle which offers a glimpse at her nature. We sat on our heels, making the carpet our home for the moment. Must have looked like a couple of prisoners awaiting trial. You never know what to expect when she has an idea to satisfy some deep seeded fantasy or momentary hunger that lingers long enough to be hastily addressed. Running one fingertip across just her bottom lip while assessing our attire, as if peering at pastries through a shop window. Sweet things to be consumed, a sacrifice to satiate the growling beast within. Her persuasive but strong tone of voice breaks what had previously been unintended silence.

"Now, here's the choice you get. You are both going to perform for me. One of you gets to fuck. I know you both desire that greatly after these past couple of weeks. However, the other is the one who garners my permission to cum."

We glance at each other, trying to get a read on the other's preference, or, at least gauge the reaction. Perhaps in some vain attempt to see an equal measure of horror, or, well... Arousal at the prospect. I must have looked a little less eager to her eagle eyes, as his face held a small smirk. I guess that moment I had the first inkling of what was to come.

"Well, what are you waiting for?"

Came a slightly annoyed query from the bedside. The response was swift. Arms around my back, skin to skin and heated body thrust to mine with enough force to knock me back half prone. I landed on my elbows, coy smirk upon my face. Shifting positions a little so I could get my feet on the ground and push up, I placed a kiss upon his shoulder, and offered up my teeth to mark his flesh gently. The recourse however was a knee, working it's way right up between my legs, seating it's self against the barely covered cheeks of my rear and levering my thigh to one side. Hands sprawled over my back and clawed lines into my skin. More weight upon me as he leaned in to my advance and my elbows gave in, landing us in a writhing heap on the floor.

I wasted no time, groping his buttocks firmly and raking my nails to catch the fabric, pulling it yet tighter. Flesh spilling out the stressed garment and soon, his mostly erect self throbbed hotly against my abs. I hooked my leg across his and rolled us over, pressing his arousal between both of our bodies, and biting down just a little harder. The noise I worked from him seemed to be appreciated, as a soft chuckle could be discerned in the background. Not to lay idle, he took this opportunity, thrusting against me and raking my back with passionate resistance to my dominant position. Rough kisses to my neck, cheek and shoulder kept my mind busy. His hands pulled right up to my chest, and shoved me off of him to my knees. He rose with me, taking ahold of my hair with one hand and with the other, pulling my hips up to sandwich his member between clothen tush and his own stomach.

Being the mischievous soul I am, my immediate response is to grind on him, rolling my hips and tensing my buns to masturbate him between us. He pulls my hair, craning my head over and clamping down on my neck. Sucking, teething, groaning and lapping at my skin with all the intensity I imbue him with. Channeling his desire right back into me. He yanks at my underwear, pulling it half off at least and growls with frustration at it's inability to leave me entirely. My better judgment all but banished by feverish need, I fold to the side under his hand's guidance. once again, finding myself under him. My legs folded up, calves beside his chest, underwear at my knees. His cock beside mine and both pinned between us. I could feel his length sliding against mine with the motion of his frustrated hips. It was as if he fucked the air out of impatient desperation. Sweat begin to lubricate us and make grappling a little more interesting.

The origin of this situation was now lost to me. The fog of arousal, the heat of passion and the burning desire that had long since been kept captive within me had melted it away. My focus was set, and calves gripped his chest, riding his motions with him. We both started to ooze precum in the sheer thrill of it. I felt my head yanked to the side and cheek buried in the carpet, one arm pinned by the wrist way above my head. My other hand slid fingers up his thigh, settling into the crease below the cheek and encouraging each thrust with pressure. I felt his legs shift, and mine become ever more restricted. Fingers slipped from strands, and grasped my ankle. My leg was guided under his briefly risen body, and to the side to join the other. And just like that, my underwear was gone.

I could feel it, pulsating, quivering with the rhythm of his heart beat. Swift and strong. Gripping it between my thighs. His hips rocked. Thoughtlessly, frustratedly fucking any flesh he had access to. Every single time he pushed in, my cock would get grazed by his, and each was a little more coated with the juices of the other. He pinned my other arm, and licked the sweat from my neck and cheek. I now came to greater sense the conclusion of this struggle. Not that I would give in. No, my body was far too hungry to submit just yet.